Play at Rubber Ball II: A:s second evening

The first evening? Scroll down or click here

And now, the evening after.. Preparty’s done, I’ve inspected the bruising I’ve caused and am mighty well pleased with myself, or more, my first bruising and his reaction to it. My birthday is coming up any minute now, and it feels good. To share it with the people who are here. Mostly perverted swedes who flown in to have a depraved weekend, but also J. This post will give you a review of the event it self.

Since the dungeon is busy but also shut off for those who are not playing (everyone can still browse over the fence) there is plenty of room and I want to take my time. Now I have a toybag full of goodies and baddies and a sub with massive puppy-eyes. A big part of that toybag belongs to J, and every opportunity to use is a bit like gold.

A is once again at my feet, bowing his head down. I know the best of use of fake nails, the acrylic is hard and is sort of happy to eat on skin. A on the floor with a collar and a leash. His poor nipples is blue and have to leave them alone. In the corner of my eye I see a cross that is getting available. I need time. Heck, I’m no “fix everything in a second” dom. That only happens in novels. Not in my life. And then my head understands it all. I got the space here, got the time and got someone with me. Take a deep breath, focuses and let go.

So I ask him to crawl. Ask him to crawl over to the cross, and think about what I might come to do to him. When he crawls it looks kind of.. strange. I know there is a dom in here somewhere, and she is peaking out every once in a while. But the gesture of someone crawling for me…First time for everything and then seeing him sitting and waiting patiently, that was what strike me. With full force and then, focus, strapping him tightly this time.

Start lightly with a soft flogger, getting the breathing up, continuing with a heavier suede one (my favorite), resisting the temptation to stretch after his sore nipples and enjoying the heavy feeling of the flogger, feeling energy flowing right into his back as he both moan and sometimes yell out lowpitched scream. Again, I meet that arched back and sucking every inch out of it. Between a knotted hemp flogger that stings like the devil (one of those things I really sort of twitch everytime I think about it) and his now more and more high-pitched sounds I tap with light fingers over his body, stroking the warm skin, kissing, licking. Pressing my body against his, and that thought turns me on as well. Him being there for me, willingly.

Picture & flogger courtesy of TrussedUK.

In a slower part of the play he ask about permission to speak. I grant his wish, and he tells me that this is the first time ever someone put him to a cross and flogged him like this. Ever. First it that something that make me think if I should safeword, I always try to get as much information out of a possible playpartner, but this was something that had not come to my attention. I do a  check-up, turn down the tempo and we got going again. Alternating between the heavy suede flogger and a Eco-flogger (made by recycled inner tires from bicycles, very recommended!) that gives more of a sting and a bite.
Then, another gorgeous girl enters the arena, a certain someone who A has claimed that he does not have any problem playing with. The thought attracts me, double the mean things that can be done, and I come to think about the brilliant riding crop and the very thin dressagewhip.

We alternate in between hitting his now red and warm behind. He never knows what to except from whom, since we don’t count the strokes and hits. The reaction is more than wonderful. His confusion with the double strokes, the different sensations and us teasing and beating him is almost more than enough. It turns me on as well, seeing her work her crop an getting in to the same rytm as I have.

In a way, I don’t want to stop but the heavy breath of sweet, sweet A tells me to, that and the fact that this is his first time.

Slowly taking him down,and the same ritual again. Even if I support every step of a sub, the show is not over until I say it’s over. Again, having him kneel, kiss mine and her hand and feet and then. The show is over.
He is a bit unsteady, but blissful is the better word. He and his friend walks off together, and J is waiting for me outside. We chat a bit to a friend, talk about the evening and then decide to move around a bit more. In the other room there is a very familiar song played, Stina Nordenstams voice fills me with all , and I hold on to J as he hold on to me,  and we move slowly moving around to the music, maybe one could call it dancing. I don’t care if it is. I’m here with him.

Despite a wonky club-evening, despite everything, I am at peace. Okay, I’m in between languages, on a scene that many times makes me mad as fuck, but I’m not stuck. The world can also make me mad as fuck but the world is kind of manageable. Because of the people in it.




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