I can’t believe I never posted about it here. It seems pretty important, now that I think about it, because this happened before I ever had (p-in-v) sex, and in fact probably was one of the first steps to opening up my mind about the concepts of virginity and what it means to actually have sex, and thinking back it is what started to change my thinking about concepts of monogamy, sexuality in general, my sexuality personally, and how it affected my spirituality (which it did, in the end, drastically).

So without further ado (and copypasta’d from my old blog, like other entries, and of course all names have been changed):

I did my first scene last night.

I had two weeks to be nervous about it and that had pretty much worn off until I was actually in the club, in front of everybody, waiting for the Dom, Chris, to put his claws on and tie me up.

Still with me?

As I mentioned in [a previous entry in the other blog], I found myself at Bound (a DC BDSM club) a little over a month ago, and since I was very intrigued by the whole thing I’ve been going back almost every Friday This Friday was no exception, but there was a slight twist, in that I had made up my mind to actually try this whole thing out and see what the big deal is. I’d watched a lot of the activities (scenes) and was very impressed and pleasantly surprised to find out that it’s not all about beating people up and getting beat up for fun (I get enough of that in martial arts anyway), but that it’s more about stimulating the body in different and creative (sometimes VERY creative) ways, pushing into the realm of pain but not just for the sake of it. There’s more to it too, but I’m still learning about that and it’s fairly irrelevant to this entry. Anyway, I’d watched Chris do a scene with this other guy the last time I was there (used claws and a knife, leaving no marks) and that really got my attention. So I asked him to do me next. Was too late that night so we had to wait until last night.

Fast forward two weeks past lots of discussions about my nervousness, desire, fear, lust and guilt (lather, rinse, repeat), and I arrive at Bound with (my friends) Val, Sid, Sam, Jim and Ron around 10:45 last night. Danced, talked with Chris, watched Sid and Val dance (droollll…. ^_^ ) and after watching a few scenes, it was finally my turn. I waited in nervous anticipation as Chris put his claws on, then he stood up from his bag of tricks, looked me straight in the face and said “Lose the shirt.”

Had no problem with this; nothing was going to work with it still on. Then he looked me straight in the face and said: “Are you wearing underwear?”


“Lose the pants.”

He had this wicked grin on his face as he said it. I recalled the words of my friend Rain saying “I know how you are… you’ll get caught up in the moment and you’ll end up with your pants off too.” She wasn’t wrong. I heard lots of “wooooooo”-ing from the small crowd behind me. Good thing I had my one pair of sexy undies on.

I let him guide my body as he adjusted the height of the restraints. The last person who’d been up there was a lot shorter than me and my arms made it so that he had to put the cuffs up even higher. After I was locked in, he gave me the scabbard to his knife. “If at any point things get too intense, drop this to signal me to stop.” I nodded to indicate that I understood, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath.

When the first blow landed, I know that my mind was still “on.” I could hear the music, I could feel eyes on me, and I remember thinking that there was something rather ironic about the song that was playing at the time, but I don’t remember what it was. As things continued and the strokes kept falling, my cognitive thought process became more and more blurred and soon the only thing I could hear were the lashing sounds and my own voice as I reacted to everything I was feeling. I knew I was being double-teamed, because I was being electrically stimulated from the front (accomplished via some very interesting electric implements which had a distinct feeling all their own) and clawed and flogged in the back. Only a few things I remembered thinking very clearly after that: I knew that I was being lit very briefly on fire, because I’d seen it done on someone earlier in the evening and the sensation was different, being a brief sting then sweeping warmth, accomplished via said electric implements and rubbing alcohol. I knew that the claws were being used on me and I very much enjoyed that part because I could feel my entire body relax when they ran down my back, and immediately tense when they were on my stomach. And of course I could think VERY clearly when my right nipple (normally not very sensitive at all thanks my old girlfriend Gina; fun story I’ll tell you if you want know) was being stimulated to the point of intense pain via electricity and a jet black survival knife. I only know that the knife is black because I saw it before things got started. I had my eyes closed the whole time, though. Anyway, it was at this point that I dropped the scabbard and things wound down. The fact that they didn’t see me drop it and another few seconds went by before they realized it was funny in retrospect but I thank their use of peripheral vision or whoever said “Hey he dropped it!” because it was at this point that I REALLY couldn’t take anymore.

Chris did a little cool down on me with the claws and then untied me. I pulled my pants back up and heard applause, but I was very dazed. Chris has a rule that whoever he works on has to kiss his boot when finished. I’d told myself earlier in the evening that I wasn’t going to do that, but I was too dazed to care at that point so I did a kind of “Last Emperor” style kowtow and yes, kissed his boot. *shrug*

Once I found a seat, it was all I could do to take deep breaths. I heard voices all around me, quotes ranging from “You were up there a long time” to “That was awesome!” to “First time? Wow you did a great job” to “Invigorating, isn’t it?” I couldn’t respond to anything. I only know I was slumping over because I could see my navel. I’m an outtie so you’d think that that would be a typical thing, but I mean I was looking, like, *into* it. Sid was rubbing ice on my back and I think someone else had a hand on my shoulder.

Then I started to cry.

I really don’t know why. I think my brain was just overwhelmed with everything. Chris came over and gave me this big hug while I just bawled. First time crying since [a very strange situation with a girl from my hometown]. Funky timing since that all went down just a little over a year ago. Same time of night, too. After one am, Friday.. huh… one year and a few weeks, to the day. Interesting… same (probable) reasons too. Brain just couldn’t take it all.

After I was done crying and got some water, I was feeling better. After about 20 minutes, my knees were still jelly but I could stand. I cleaned off my glasses and grabbed the last of my ganked-from-work chocolate chip cookie and chomped it down.

Hell of a night. It is likely that I’ll do another scene. I’m curious to see how I’ll react the second time around. Or third. But I’ll guess I’ll find out then.

Definitely a different experience than anything I’ve ever done prior.

Ah, memories. ^_^ Looking back on it now i realize that this opened my mind up on a lot of levels. I’d never considered polyamory before, but after some thought I realized that wasn’t out of bounds for me. After all, if I can trust someone who is not my partner to deliver pain and pleasure in this context, why then could I not do the same with sexual activity? And for that matter, how was this NOT sexual activity (trust me, I learned just how sexual it is just a few week later)? Also, this was a man pleasuring me this way, so why should I not be open to the possibility of same sex partners at some point? So the logic, for me, simply followed that since this guy was not my partner, was male, and was giving me exactly what I needed in a manner and setting which all parties were *safe, sane and consensual* (a term that quickly became part of my permanent lexicon), there was no reason for me to be so uptight in adhering to the sexual mores drilled into me via my christian upbringing.

Of course it followed after much thought that since those mores were no longer applied to me, why would anything else from those decades of churchgoing apply to me either? Save for what I knew in my heart was right (since I have a conscience, and was never going to knock over a bank) why did I need my morals dictated to me in loose translation from someone who doesn’t know me?

I didn’t. And I don’t.

Ok, so i frequent a chat room on a certain site to which i have long been a member. There are lots of regulars in there, so we’re kinda friends… as much as one can be friends with someone you’ve never met and only ever see on a webcam because they live MANY miles away. Lately there’s been a lot of bad stuff going on in their lives and they’ve been going in there to unload. Nothing wrong with that, but that chat room is, more typically, for people to flash their naked bits and have sex and masturbate via webcam or audio. When that’s not happening, generally people are in there flirting or hitting on each other and it’s all fun and games.

I much prefer it that way.

With everybody unloading their sadness in there it’s a bit too much of a downer for me. As much as i need friends, i really want to keep things light and fun. I can’t handle all the bad stuff in other people’s lives. I’m barely handling my own life. Besides that, I have (the precious few) actual friends who i ACTUALLY know in person, with whom i share stories like that so that we can lift each other up. I really don’t feel up to spending that kind of energy on someone with whom i have almost no connection. Maybe if i knew these people better or had actually met them, or talked with them in ANY other way than thru that chat room, i’d feel more up to it, but in that case i’d actually care more.

Does that make me a bad person? The fact that, while i sympathize with their situation and i feel bad for them, i don’t really CARE?

I mean, if i cared, i’d put in more effort, right? I’d actually feel something when they say that they’re upset about something, wouldn’t i? I’d at least feel enough for them to say “I wish there was something i could do for you.” But i don’t.

Maybe because i don’t think they’d do the same for me. There’s only one person who frequents that chat room whom i actually care about, and share bad times (such as they are) with, and he reads this blog already (somewhere in my mind, he passed whatever subconscious litmus test). In that way, i CARE about him. I hate to think that it’s only because there’s a kind of reciprocity there, but i guess that’s where i am right now.

I’ve spent so much of my life giving and giving and giving of myself for people who never gave back. I know that’s not supposed to be the reason for one to give, but it’s so incredibly DRAINING. I’m just tired of being drained, i guess.

So, maybe that means i suck as a person, the fact that i need things reciprocated.

I’ll live.

So last night i hung out with my friend Ellie for the first time in a few months. I’ve talked about her before (though not by name) back in entry #7 as “the girl i used to work with who i really want to see naked.” Now, she’s modeled for me a couple of times, so i have seen her naked (and it was GREAT!) but of course now i want more and she’s pretty unavailable.

I went over to hang with her and her boyfriend (whom i mentioned in #14), who turns out to be pretty cool and very laid-back. He and i geek out about a lot of the same things, so when she wasn’t around, the conversation didn’t suddenly slow down or get awkward or anything. So that was ok. Anyway, we went down to the harbor to a bar and grill for their “burger night,” with a few other friends and let me just tell you, that was the shit. I’m definitely going there again, burger night or no. they have awesome food and i could totally go broke eating there. While we were there, Ellie and i had a little bit of alone time and i mentioned the whole naked thing again. It was a little awkward because i always get so nervous bringing things up, even among people i’m close with. It’s just an insecurity i have; I always feel like i’m going to scare them away (i think i’ve probably mentioned that before). Anyway, i brought up to her the fact that she and her boyfriend often don’t wear much around the house (they’d mentioned it before in passing), and how it had often crossed my mind, when planning a visit, to simply say “no need to get dressed on my account.”

Thankfully, she seemed to take it pretty well; probably because she’d already had a six pack over the course of the conversation we’d been having back at her place, and hell, she’d already modeled for me. She assured me that it was no big deal, and if i was coming over and we weren’t planning on going anywhere, clothing wouldn’t be that important to her, at least.

So we eat (again, AWESOME!), we stop by a liquor store for a few supplies (mostly for them) and we go back to their place to hang. When we get there, two interesting things happen. They break out a small bag of magic mushrooms (not a surprise, btw, she’d mentioned it about two hours prior) and after eating most of it and offering me the rest (more on that in a minute) Liz JUMPED up off the couch and excitedly suggested that we all get a little more comfortable. She then dashes upstairs and comes back down with a large armful of sarongs, which is their adornment of choice in the house. They each pick one, change into their chosen loungewear (she grabs a bikini top, and he a bathrobe) and i, even though this is the very thing i’d hoped for, somewhat timidly pick a sarong and disrobe.

It should be noted at this point that i was quite aroused, and sarongs do NOTHING to hide that.

Ellie offered me the tiny remains of the ‘shrooms, and after texting my wife to let her know everything that was going on, i took them. This is pretty much an inconsequential detail, because the tiny amount i had didn’t do anything to me that i could feel. I might as well have eaten a saltine.

Now, i feel that i should mention something at this point. I was, as you know if you’ve been reading this with any regularity that my writing allows, raised in a christian home. I no longer subscribe to the faith, but as as result of that upbringing, i have denied myself MANY things. Sex was the first thing to go, and i thank my wife for that because it’s the awesomest thing ever (but then, she’s the awesomest ever, so maybe that’s why). The next thing to go was alcohol consumption. Now, i’m not a big drinker, but lately i’ve been trying things out, because… hell i’m turning 35. If i can’t have a drink every now and then at this age, i might as well have stayed in high school (where everybody was already drinking anyway). Anyway, i don’t need it to have a good time, but where it’s available i’ll try it out and i’ve discovered that i like a few things. Rum and coke: not bad, might try it with spiced rum next time. Amaretto sour: very nice, also one of my wife’s favorites; four of those and she’ll actually dance with me. Electric lemonade (vodka and sprite): at the hands of someone who knows how to actually mix drinks, it’s probably way better than the crap i made. Point is, i’m actually trying things out. To whit, experimenting. My wife has joked that i’m all growed up now. 😛 So when the offer came to try ‘shrooms, i was naturally a little hesitant, but i measured my situation: i was with people i trust, they were taking from the same batch, and the boyfriend had been doing it for longer and knew what to expect. Also, the wife knew where i was, so if anything catastrophic were to happen, she knew where to find me. So i figured, what the hell. It was only a tiny bit, and if i didn’t like what happened, i never had to do it again. So i did it. Yay. I am actually curious to see what happens if i take more. We’ll see if they get any more.

Anyway back to the story.

We went upstairs to the dvd/vcr/entertainment room, i put in the sexy dvd i had brought over (they wanted to see it too, it’s a follow-up to one that they have) and we settled in to watch. Of course, as is the deal with shrooms, eventually i was the only one watching anything, because they started tripping. That in itself was quite a bit more entertaining than the dvd, and in the case of Ellie, a lot sexier. She was rolling around on the floor, writhing, giggling, moaning and breathing heavy. Two things came to mind at this point:

“Any chance she might roll out of what little she’s wearing?” and

“I could make make her do this without the drugs, believe me.”

That thought, the thought of me kissing her, suckling her, going down on her and fucking her, had me aroused yet further which actually put me in a rather uncomfortable position, figuratively and literally. This was further exacerbated when, in a particularly unguarded moment, she said that to me she wished she was fat and disgusting, because she’s tired of guys hitting on her. Where she works now, the cooks are constantly hitting on her and her customers are contantly hitting on her. Granted her customers are usually drunk or hung-over… but that doesn’t make it any less annoying. So that stuck with me, because my next thought was “then you definitely don’t want to hear it from me.” Again, also it was a good thing she was tripping and not really paying attention to me because i was sporting a RAGING hard-on for most of the night up until then (her statement pretty much killed it).

Of course, she was tripping when she said it, so she probably doesn’t remember saying it at all. And there were a lot of sexy flirtatious things that i wanted to say while she was tripping that i refrained from saying. Part of it was because if i tell her something that she didn’t want to hear, under the expectation that i could get away with it because she won’t remember it later because she’s tripping when i say it, that’s incredibly unfair. Plus, even if i asked her if she wanted to hear what i had to say and she’d said yes, it’s unfair, because with her in that mental state neither situation constitutes real consent (and of course actually DOING anything would be rape, so…).

And because she’s my friend who i am also very attracted to and i want to do very fun, naughty things to her, I cannot take advantage of her like that (at the risk of sounding redundant, i’m referring to talking) while she’s in a state of such vulnerability.

So, after (kinda) getting my wish and hanging out with Ellie while mostly naked, i feel a bit confused. I should probably just let it go, just say “yeah that happened and it was fun, but it probably can’t happen again” because i don’t think i feel right about it. I feel like i’m lying, because when i say that it’s ok that i’ll most likely never have sex with er, i’m lying, because it’s not ok. I’ve wanted to play with her for a LONG time, and it’s not fair to either of us that i put myself in a position where everybody’s next to naked and i can’t do anything. I mean, we’re all loose and comfortable and that’s cool, but for me it’s also about sex and that element makes things awkward, at least for me. I don’t want things to be awkward, and since, in the course of the conversation last night they said fairly explicitly that they’re not open to sex outside of the relationship, i need to deal with this for the sake of my friendship with Ellie.

So, it sucks.

Now this is not the first time i’ve had more-than-friends feelings for someone unavailable, and i’m sure it won’t be the last time. But what really sucks about this is that it’s tough, as a married man, to tell someone “hey, i’m really attracted to you and i’m in an open marriage so it’s totally cool with my wife if we do stuff” because the assumption that i’m lying and thus cheating on my wife, which could not be further from the truth. With Ellie we’d already gotten past that, but now she’s in a relationship which makes playing with her not an option, and i really don’t have anyone else in my life with whom i have a similar connection. The big catch-22 on this is that i’m not a swinger. I’m not looking to simply go out and have sex, I want to have relationships, and making those kinds of connections take a lot of time and effort.

The conversation and everything that went on last night was the kind of shit i’ve been CRAVING. If it had concluded with naked cuddles and/or sex (instead of the shrooms…), the night would have been fucking perfect. But despite our mutual geekery, i’m not attracted to her boyfriend in the least, and he doesn’t seem to be hetero-flexible even if i was attracted to him, so that’s a complete no-go.

So, here i am. And now my dilemma is: do i try to talk to Ellie about this? Or do i just keep my distance and try to deal with it myself? She won’t be blindsided to know that i want to play with her, but as usual i feel nervous to bring it up especially after last night. Ugh, what to do.

19 (well, shit)

October 8, 2010

Turns out i might be depressed. Like, clinically.

I’ve seen a therapist before (for something else entirely) and i might have to give her a call again. It’s been two years, so i guess it’s as good a time as any. I just feel so disconnected lately, and over the last 6 months or so. In the last two months it’s been hitting me a lot harder. I often describe it as a wave of negative emotion, cuz that’s really what it feels like. Sometimes i feel it actually LITERALLY hits me.

I’ll give her a buzz and see, i guess. Nothing to lose but a co-pay, right?

18 (linkback)

October 7, 2010

I thought this was pretty cool article.

Offers some interesting (though brief) food for thought on BDSM and how race can affect us and our participation as black people re: the history of african slavery in america.

It is something i thought about… i had discussed a scene at one point where i role played as a slave who turned the tables on his “master,” but that was really about the extent of it. I’m honestly not sure how i feel about it now. Similarly to the author of that article, i like to keep race out of sex/play, but since it factors into EVERYTHING no matter what i like, i suppose i have no choice but to think about it eventually.

We’ll see. Further thoughts on this maybe later.

17 (stuff)

October 6, 2010

A lot has gone on since my last full post. We’ve moved, i have a crappy new job (trying for something better) and my daughter and i both have been in the hospital for the same thing. Also a potential 3rd person has already come and gone.

Not much to say about moving, or even about being in the hospital. Moving sucked, because we hate packing and transporting everything. Being in the hospital sucked, because i was sick and the baby was sick, and we both hated getting poked and prodded with needles.

But what’s been interesting is that both my wife and i have been flirting with people, with remarkably different results. I’ve been doing my flirting online and thru text messages with a cute girl in Colorado, and she had been flirting with a local bike shop employee. Uncharacteristically for her, this was a guy. Anyway, things are going fine for me; we’re keeping it light, and exchanging pictures every now and again, but nothing really serious as far as making plans because she lives so far away. Also, i’m using this as a kind of experiment, since i’m not really good at flirting. Everything i think of to say sound really corny to me, and if i were to be straightforward, i feel like i’d be pushing too hard or saying the wrong thing. So i’ve been trying to balance that out, and i’ve been extremely careful not to overstep my bounds. I’m slow to say anything overtly sexual, and I’m very quick to say “was that too much?” Sometimes i feel like i’m at risk of sounding like a wimp, but i’d rather be *too* respectful than disrespectful. Might seems timid, but i have my reasons for being that way, which are perfectly illustrated by what my wife experienced.

Things were going fine until her guy, let’s just call him “Dan,” related a story to her about a sexual encounter with a girl that ended with him being quite forceful with her and not in that fun “do it rough” kind of way that requires explicit consent. Maybe to him there was IMplicit consent, but that’s not good enough for either of us. His verbiage in relating the story was very much out of character for him as well, as he normally sounded polite and kinda nerdy (the guy’s a poet), but in this he sounded pretty much like a hood. Anyway, my wife was QUITE turned off by his words, but also by the attitude he displayed in the story. The girl in the story had, very clearly said “i’m done.” He heard her, and there was no mistaking it, and he then very clearly said “No you’re not,” because he hadn’t climaxed yet. He then continued to do what he wanted to her, without saying in the story whether or not she wanted him to.

In reading this, both my wife and i were rather taken aback.

MAYBE the girl was all into it. MAYBE she wanted him to do what he did. MAYBE she’s a submissive who’s all about being dominated and being told what to do. MAYBE she likes being disregarded when she speaks because that’s her thing. Lord knows there are plenty of submissives out there who are into exactly this, but NONE of that was relayed in the story, and none of that is anything we can count on being the case. As far as the story goes and as far as we can tell, he completely disregarded her wishes and fucked her without her consent.

Which is rape.

Which is NOT ok.

So now, she has to break it off with him. She says that she knows how to handle it, and i trust her, but if things DON’T go the way she wants, and he threatens her in any way, he’s going to find his face in the ground. If she HADN’T heard this story, and things had gone ahead and they’d gotten to the point where they were alone together, something non consensual could have happened to MY WIFE. If such a thing had happened, i would very likely beat this man to death, because i’m pretty sure i wouldn’t be able to control myself.

I don’t act the way i do, in a way that other men view as timid, because i’m some kind of shrinking violet. I move slowly and respectfully because I RESPECT WOMEN AND THEIR BOUNDARIES. Explicit consent is required on every level and i instantly pull back if i sense any kind of resistance or hesitation. I’m very sensitive about this because every woman is someone’s daughter or sister or friend, and i’m a respectful kind of guy in general. Also being a black man, my testimony as a defendant in a rape case is about as good for my prospects as a dvd in a record player.

The Schroedinger’s Rapist article becomes more and more real to me the longer i live. It pains me to know that there are guys like Dan out there doing what they do and ruining things for the rest of us. It pains me even more to know that no matter what i do, and no matter how respectful i act, there may be women who never trust me or any other man because guys like Dan do what they do.