Back in the game

One moment it seemed I was stuck at home, recovering from an operation, barely able to leave the house and being taken on outings by my friends like a day release from the local care centre. And the next, I've suddenly got my life back again, hardly a day free in my social diary, seeing my friends, going to kink events, playing again, and catching up on lost time with an energy and enthusiasm that seems to increase as every day goes by.

So first of all...let's just take a moment to say a big bloody 'hurrah!' for that!

Now I've got that out of the way, my next moment is one of reflection - how has not playing for two months affected me, and how did it feel to start playing again after that time?

It's difficult to separate out the different feelings and where they were coming from. Naturally, being stuck in the house with a great big healing wound, lacking in energy, being in pain and exhausted all the time, affected my self image, my confidence in myself, my relationships, and shook my sense of who I am. But I am fundamentally quite resilient, so once I started being able to get out and about again, my bounce returned pretty quickly.

The 22nd February was the day I became aware of the scene. On the 19th March I met N, and on the 3rd April I had my first play and dipped my toe in the waters of the scene properly. I had two months of regular public and private play, a HUGE and incredible range of experiences which without a doubt, changed my life, and then from the 1st June not a sausage, not even a little spank, for two months. TWO BLOODY MONTHS!!!

It's made me aware of how much I need to play, as well as want to. I love sex, and I love pain, and I love to play. If nothing else, it's taught me that this is who I am, and where my sexuality lays down. I can't turn back into who I was before, and I don't want to.

I was afraid, when I first started exploring BDSM, that my developing sexuality would threaten the person I am. I was quite happy and comfortable with being me - tatty, raggedy old me who sits at home knitting and making dinner for her husband. I'd put my sex drive in a box and padlocked it, and although it was rattling and shaking its chains crazily in the back of my mind, I'd closed the door and was blissfully ignoring it. I'd put my energy into being a nice, decent person, a lovely human being who did nice things for people and thought of others before herself. I LIKED me, and I was scared that connecting with a part of my character which I'd ignored for a long time - sexual and social me - would have a negative impact on my personality. But it hasn't. I'm more fulfilled, happier, more content, and I am starting - just beginning, mind, it's still pretty delicate - to feel beautiful, sexual, desirable. I feel like more of a whole person, and I've not lost any of the parts of me I felt were precious before. I've gone forward, not back.

There have been a few hiccups along the way. Not being able to play really shook me. I thought when I was well again, I'd go back to exactly where I'd left off, but for all sorts of reasons, that's not the way life works. I went to LAM this month and got myself into a total tizzy, completely unnecessarily, and nearly screwed up something really important to me because I was being a total and utter mook. I've sorted my head out now and am more relaxed about playing, as a result. I think maybe I thought I was only desirable during the moments when someone wanted to play with me, and all the rest of the time I was not. That's just not very clever. I don't stop being desirable just because life gets in the way of play. I knew that in my head of course, but now my heart begins to understand it, too.

N and I had little moments of naughty play, getting longer and bigger and better as I recovered. Mostly while we were fucking. Crikey, I've had the most incredible fleeting moments of play in the last month while we were having the most amazing sex. Also she teased me with a carpet beater while she was tidying up her toybox. Now that sounds like a euphemism if I've ever heard one.

My first proper play with N left me almost unable to walk! I had to crawl into the bedroom and get under the sheets, I was shivering, and felt really peculiar. She started off by spanking me. I am such a spanking slut, it's not even funny. I was making little moans and gasps and then realised I'd better shut the windows before the neighbours complained. Now my bottom is no longer off limits, she could give full range to her toybox, and we went through pretty much everything in it. Fuck, I'd forgotten how much that quirt hurts, and the dragon's tail. She warmed me up thoroughly and beat seven shades of shit out of me. I was being a bit of a wuss though, my pain threshold has gone right down again. When I play with N at home, she rarely ties me up - and I don't get angry like I do when I'm restrained. She dominates me almost purely psychologically, although occasionally she has to hold me down when I'm wriggling too much. Even though it hurt like a motherfucker, I wanted to take the pain, to please her, and because it turned me on. I was so wet it was almost embarassing. Seeing that look on her face, the 'don't fuck with me' look which is only for me; knowing that I've changed too, become pliant and melting under her dominance, pleading instead of demanding, whimpering instead of swearing, sobbing instead of shouting. I love letting that person inside me loose. It's such an uplifting experience, one that I can only have with her. She can close my mouth with a look.

I lay still, without anything tying me there, and took the beating she gave me, because I wanted to, because she wanted me to, to show her how much I loved her. She turned me over and cuffed my ankles and wrists together in such a way that my thighs were spread, my breasts positioned perfectly for a flogging. She worked me over on my front, and pushed me to my limit until I wasn't sure I could take much more. She always knows when to push, how to push, and when not to. I don't know how.

She pulled out the silver claws, and each finger on one hand was turned into a tiny weapon. She teased me, tormenting my pussy with the claws until I was almost in pain with the desire. I thought my head was going to explode. I simultaneously wanted to start crying, have a lie down and some cuddles, and have an explosive orgasm. We went with the lie down and cuddles option this time, which was a good choice, considering I don't think I had any explosions left in me. She held me and her skin felt so soft, her face so familiar but strange at the same time.

Pause for snack, drink, sleep. Fast forward to...

Spanking slut strikes again. Ooh, I can actually feel a warm sensation in my stomach and my pussy clench, just thinking about it. I was lying on the bed, rthymically grinding my hips against the covers as her hand came down over and over again. Then we had a session with the carpet beater followed by the cane. I've got a stripey bottom now, and sitting here knowing what my bruises look like at this precise moment, unbeknownst to anyone else, is making me smile. I just love the cane. It hurts sooooo much, especially when she goes over the same spot again and again. I was in agony....and dripping wet....and it was absolutely fucking mind-blowing.

Excuse me..this weblog now ends due to the need for a cold shower!