So yesterday was the Crucible's Spring Leather Flea and Play (LF&P,) affectionately referred to as "elephant pee". (Yes, you can go back and see what I blogged about last Autumn's LF&P too.)
I had originally thought we might attend and take a friend with us, then head out to dinner, but he decided he wasn't going to make it. At that point we hemmed and hawed and eventually came to the conclusion we'd decide whether or not to attend based on how our day went.
Naturally getting up and out on Saturday took longer than expected, and travel through DC was just as screwed up as it tends to be these days, but we did get to watch one hell of a storm front coming in. Fortunately, we reached the Crucible before the afternoon rains.
We entered and wandered about a bit. The vendors seemed pretty much the same as last fall. I wasn't finding much by way of tools that interested me. I know there are still a few real artisans doing whip work, but finding them rarely seems as simple as wandering a flea.
I remember when you might see a whip maker at an event not with piles of already produced whips ready for same day sale, but instead the artist would bring out some examples of their best work. You could go and talk with them, examine their work, and if you had the money (which of course I never did) you could decide on the details of how you would like your custom whip or floggers to be carefully braided; what kinds of hides (here, feel this, this is elk. I get these from a hunter tanner friend of mine, I've only got 3 of them, but if you want, I can custom dye this to match your Leathers), how full a mop, the braid on the handle, whether or not you wanted it shot loaded, etc. Most importantly, they would see how you hold a tool, how you use it, where the balance point on the handle was unique to your hand. Then you paid sometimes upfront, sometimes a portion upfront, and within a month or two you arranged to meet and the final result was finally in your hands. These were special- and you treated them as such.
There's probably a blog post in here somewhere about how whip making went from something individuals either learned or turned to their local tack shop for, on through to a few artists around the country, on towards 'manufacturers' and mass marketing and sort of 'brand name' floggers, on into quantity, not necessarily quality floggers. Carpal Tunnel has taken many a whip maker out of such, and there almost seems to be a few year 'workspan' or 'career' for many whip makers.
Those who sometimes do the best work, do only a few, but as such are sometimes very expensive. To actually find floggers not only custom made, but balanced to your particular hand is wonderful, but becoming ever more rare, particularly when whips are so often bought sight unseen, over the net. In any case, there are whips made by certain artisans, many of which no longer do that work, but the pieces live on, and get passed along, provided they aren't destroyed by devout relatives upon an owner's death.
We are fortunate enough to have a set of floggers custom made to Sir's hand, beautiful tools, but our friend no longer braids and while they are special, such are also becoming increasingly rare. The set he had made had never been used on anyone, and when we first came together as a couple he honoured me by using his whips on me. It meant a very great deal to me, and to this day, they still do.
In any case, yes you can find basic, simply braided pieces at fleas. To some extent you can also find some interesting pieces done in small batches by a leatherworker. But while you may be able to custom order pieces from vendors there, seeking out specialists who make custom pieces unique to you, to your hand can often be a bit more complicated. It can mean traveling to them, or seeking them out word of mouth in communities, rather than webpages. Some already have more work than you'd expect just by word of mouth. And longevity in braiding usually means pacing projects as to avoid injury.
As I said though, those who braid don't do so forever. If you find an artist whose work you love, it is often better to get what you can while you can, before injury or time constraints, family obligations or other aspects of 'real life' lead them to stop. Given a choice between a quality handmade flogger and almost any piece of mass market gear, I'd chose the whip.
But I digress. So this Spring, unlike last Autumn, surprisingly, we stumbled into a sort of 'friend of the family', one of Sir's exs. She had not seen him in quite some time, and when he walked over and said hello to her, she did a very amusing double take. Sir in his Leather jacket, dressed in black, hair pulled back neatly, wearing the wide black belt I gave him. It took her a moment to realize it was really him.
Other than one or two of the vendors we recognized from 'back in the day', she was the only person 'from our time' we saw at the Flea. In the end, we agreed to meet after the Flea for dinner. She was with a friend and intended to return for the 'Play' portion of the evening, we on the other hand intended to head home.
So we split up, and I wandered the booths. In the end, I settled upon a Catherine Coatney shirt that would go well with two of my skirts. Otherwise, I was remarkably bored. We looked the booths over twice, to be sure we weren't missing anything, perhaps that one unique little item perhaps we overlooked our first trip around, but no. No such luck. It's odd to be surrounded by fetish-y, BDSM-y goodness and yet not able to find anything that I quite felt need to come home with us. Admittedly that 'best sex toy' is between the ears, but I seem to be going through kind of an odd period, one wherein I find myself surrounded by tools and uninspired by such.
I still seem to 'quest' for the original, the inspired, the careful handcrafted, the unique, but as of late, I never seem to quite find it, whatever 'it' might be.
But part of the Flea is just to see what all is afoot, to wander and be among others who share one's proclivities, and yes sometimes even happen across someone else who remembers another time, and so off to dinner the four of us went. A marvelous dinner, actually. Good to be with an old friend and meet a new one, and all over an excellent meal.
We laughed, and caught up on one another's lives and even spoke of where the folks from back in the day have disappeared to? Her conclusion, from a somewhat different vantage point, is essentially the same as mine- a version of 'underground'.
Commercialization down to the organizational level, the 'net', and attempts at learning skills via Google searches, all have changed the ground out from under us. Lots of us still do what we do, just not publicly, and not in party settings. Many of us have found our partners (and no, by such I'm not saying 'paired', I'm saying people we do this with, some our life partners, some part time lovers, some 'thirds' and some in various cities scattered,) have our few friends we can talk about these things with, and from time to time perhaps attend an 'event', often far from home. 'Scale' has changed.
And we've all seen a lot of really stupid behaviour from people who should know better, it's driven so many of us into more private settings.
Sad in a sense, but it is the picture many of us are beginning to see.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Saturday, March 1, 2008
On the importance of 'just being there'
This may seem a very pedestrian topic for a kink-blog entry, but sometimes it's the little things that are so often overlooked that matter so.
If I were asked for a list of 'duties' I perform, tasks or chores pertinent to my status as "property" I'd have to sit you down and explain at length how it's more complicated than that.
While I am in some ways submissive (and other ways, NOT), you would hardly mistake me for a 'service submissive'. That's just not the way we structure our (Leather) household. There are chores I tend to gravitate towards, and other chores Sir for the most part has staked out as what he does. There are also ongoing bits of the household that sometimes I do, sometimes he does, it's more dependent upon who happens to get sick of looking at it, and has the spare time to do something about it first.
I know, I know! Heresy! Unimaginable!
To dare even mention that Sir does household chores too? Why I must have broken at least 30 'the-one-true-way Leather Taboos!' (tm)
But our real Leather lives, unlike pulp novels or oh so many online MASTER-slavelings, are real. We live them, 24-7. And that means we deal with real world real things. What often goes unstated, is that in relation to the 'chores' each of us take on, the other does feel a sense of gratitude. Sometimes we express such, but usually, it lies just beneath the surface, each of us quietly aware that the things the other does for us help us, and make our lives as we live them together not merely easier, but in certain bedrock kinds of ways, possible. While not an egalitarian household, at times, it does share certain resemblances to a Leather 'partnership' of sorts. It's what works for us.
That said, I do make a point of making 'Sir's' bed.
Now that must sound odd. But as we sometimes run opposite schedules to one another, I am allowed my own rooms in addition to the primary bedroom we share. Recently, no matter what our sleep schedules may be, I've made a point of ensuring that when Sir comes up to bed, it's a neatly made bed.
That may sound perfectly obvious, and the kind of habit some people got in back when they were oh, say, 5, but for the two of us, living on our own as we do together, we tend to simply get up and hit the ground running and then tumble into bed at night.
If the downstairs is the at times more 'public' part of the household, the upstairs is more a private sanctuary. I suppose we're quite Victorian in that sense. The parlour is a place where our household intersects with the external world, the upstairs bedrooms are private spaces.
So I make the bed.
It was the first piece of furniture we bought together for the house, a big four poster King sized bed, (an updated) comfy mattress, and padding and sheets we picked out together, as a couple, when we were just beginning. We brought the bed home and assembled it ourselves. Some couples buy couches together first, we selected and assembled the bed.
And when we're home, not traveling, I tend to carve out the laundry as a part of my ongoing routine. Just as womyn for generations before me have cared for, mended, and laundered their beloved's clothing, I too, try to ensure, as one presenter at the Floating World last Autumn used as an example, when my Sir goes to reach for an item of clothing, it should 'just be there'.
What marks us as different, perhaps, is that when we do travel, (which is to say frequently,) while I may sort the piles, Sir himself tends to run the laundry. Sometimes I fold, sometimes we fold together.
But the laundry is simply part of the rhythm of that which needs to be attended to. Sometimes the ongoing 'chores' are less 'choreful' and simply part of that which must be done. At times, it's even possible to gain a certain satisfaction, or feeling that things are 'running well' based upon the ongoing rhythm of ensuring things are 'there when you reach for them'. I find it leads to more of a household sense of well-being, confidence, and yes, even control.
When things pile up and feel overwhelming, it lends itself to a things being 'out of control' sensation. Conversely, when things are simply where they're supposed to be, whether it's laundry or dishes, or mail sorted and filed it leads to a certain ease, comfort and sensation of things being 'under control'.
From that 'under control' springs a certain confidence in both of us.
Which yes, leads me back around full circle to sex-blogging. In that one of the very few 'duties' I perform, tasks or chores pertinent to my status as "property" is that of being sexually available to my Sir.
That when he reaches for me, I too am at hand, exactly where I should be. Physically, psychologically, etc.
(While yes, there is absolutely, a blog entry -or 20- in what being self described "property" means in my context, that being a Radical Feminist context, American legal context, etc, that's not about to happen today.)
At any time, I feel I could say "no" or "not right now", but in practice I next to never do (other than sometimes, when I'm still mostly asleep, and not thinking very clearly at the time.) Having the ability to say "no" (which is actually more a 'raincheck' than a "no",) that freedom to say "no", is part of what makes it secure and a confident "yes".
That may not be the way some Leather lovers arrange their relationships, but again, this is what works for us. We're both reasonably aware that when it comes down to it, I pretty much only say "no" in relation to extenuating, usually physical, circumstances.
In part, how we define some of my "duties" in this relationship are to be His, anytime, with the one caveat that communication of any extenuating circumstance is an inherent to such.
So last night, he both enjoyed me, and a well made bed.
This morning, I smile to myself with the satisfaction that things are 'running well'.
***
(Now, have I just equated sex to housework? Perhaps... if you really feel you MUST take it that way, but what I'm really referring to is the satisfaction of behind the scenes work, -yes at times good, hard work with one's hands with very quantifiable results- that goes into making parts of life feel 'effortless' and how such for us at least, tends to lead to the sense of well being and 'control' which can be at times so vital to our Leather/BDSM lives. It's a topic I see very little written about, particularly in your average 'how to Leather' books, yet it has everything to do with how we live this out 24-7.)
If I were asked for a list of 'duties' I perform, tasks or chores pertinent to my status as "property" I'd have to sit you down and explain at length how it's more complicated than that.
While I am in some ways submissive (and other ways, NOT), you would hardly mistake me for a 'service submissive'. That's just not the way we structure our (Leather) household. There are chores I tend to gravitate towards, and other chores Sir for the most part has staked out as what he does. There are also ongoing bits of the household that sometimes I do, sometimes he does, it's more dependent upon who happens to get sick of looking at it, and has the spare time to do something about it first.
I know, I know! Heresy! Unimaginable!
To dare even mention that Sir does household chores too? Why I must have broken at least 30 'the-one-true-way Leather Taboos!' (tm)
But our real Leather lives, unlike pulp novels or oh so many online MASTER-slavelings, are real. We live them, 24-7. And that means we deal with real world real things. What often goes unstated, is that in relation to the 'chores' each of us take on, the other does feel a sense of gratitude. Sometimes we express such, but usually, it lies just beneath the surface, each of us quietly aware that the things the other does for us help us, and make our lives as we live them together not merely easier, but in certain bedrock kinds of ways, possible. While not an egalitarian household, at times, it does share certain resemblances to a Leather 'partnership' of sorts. It's what works for us.
That said, I do make a point of making 'Sir's' bed.
Now that must sound odd. But as we sometimes run opposite schedules to one another, I am allowed my own rooms in addition to the primary bedroom we share. Recently, no matter what our sleep schedules may be, I've made a point of ensuring that when Sir comes up to bed, it's a neatly made bed.
That may sound perfectly obvious, and the kind of habit some people got in back when they were oh, say, 5, but for the two of us, living on our own as we do together, we tend to simply get up and hit the ground running and then tumble into bed at night.
If the downstairs is the at times more 'public' part of the household, the upstairs is more a private sanctuary. I suppose we're quite Victorian in that sense. The parlour is a place where our household intersects with the external world, the upstairs bedrooms are private spaces.
So I make the bed.
It was the first piece of furniture we bought together for the house, a big four poster King sized bed, (an updated) comfy mattress, and padding and sheets we picked out together, as a couple, when we were just beginning. We brought the bed home and assembled it ourselves. Some couples buy couches together first, we selected and assembled the bed.
And when we're home, not traveling, I tend to carve out the laundry as a part of my ongoing routine. Just as womyn for generations before me have cared for, mended, and laundered their beloved's clothing, I too, try to ensure, as one presenter at the Floating World last Autumn used as an example, when my Sir goes to reach for an item of clothing, it should 'just be there'.
What marks us as different, perhaps, is that when we do travel, (which is to say frequently,) while I may sort the piles, Sir himself tends to run the laundry. Sometimes I fold, sometimes we fold together.
But the laundry is simply part of the rhythm of that which needs to be attended to. Sometimes the ongoing 'chores' are less 'choreful' and simply part of that which must be done. At times, it's even possible to gain a certain satisfaction, or feeling that things are 'running well' based upon the ongoing rhythm of ensuring things are 'there when you reach for them'. I find it leads to more of a household sense of well-being, confidence, and yes, even control.
When things pile up and feel overwhelming, it lends itself to a things being 'out of control' sensation. Conversely, when things are simply where they're supposed to be, whether it's laundry or dishes, or mail sorted and filed it leads to a certain ease, comfort and sensation of things being 'under control'.
From that 'under control' springs a certain confidence in both of us.
Which yes, leads me back around full circle to sex-blogging. In that one of the very few 'duties' I perform, tasks or chores pertinent to my status as "property" is that of being sexually available to my Sir.
That when he reaches for me, I too am at hand, exactly where I should be. Physically, psychologically, etc.
(While yes, there is absolutely, a blog entry -or 20- in what being self described "property" means in my context, that being a Radical Feminist context, American legal context, etc, that's not about to happen today.)
At any time, I feel I could say "no" or "not right now", but in practice I next to never do (other than sometimes, when I'm still mostly asleep, and not thinking very clearly at the time.) Having the ability to say "no" (which is actually more a 'raincheck' than a "no",) that freedom to say "no", is part of what makes it secure and a confident "yes".
That may not be the way some Leather lovers arrange their relationships, but again, this is what works for us. We're both reasonably aware that when it comes down to it, I pretty much only say "no" in relation to extenuating, usually physical, circumstances.
In part, how we define some of my "duties" in this relationship are to be His, anytime, with the one caveat that communication of any extenuating circumstance is an inherent to such.
So last night, he both enjoyed me, and a well made bed.
This morning, I smile to myself with the satisfaction that things are 'running well'.
***
(Now, have I just equated sex to housework? Perhaps... if you really feel you MUST take it that way, but what I'm really referring to is the satisfaction of behind the scenes work, -yes at times good, hard work with one's hands with very quantifiable results- that goes into making parts of life feel 'effortless' and how such for us at least, tends to lead to the sense of well being and 'control' which can be at times so vital to our Leather/BDSM lives. It's a topic I see very little written about, particularly in your average 'how to Leather' books, yet it has everything to do with how we live this out 24-7.)
Friday, February 15, 2008
On purely subjective delineations
Been meaning to write here for a couple of days now, since Tuesday actually.
Monday night was very special for us.
I've been being very careful with my fresh piercings, giving them the ongoing cleaning attention, but not unnecessary attention (i.e. fiddling with them, which would only increase the odds of infection.) And generally taking time to heal.
Which is not to say I'm completely healed by any means, just that I've been being careful and taking good care of myself. While I know new piercings can have their ups and downs, these have gone incredibly well so far.
Yes, I know I haven't even really written the REAL post about getting pierced yet. I suppose I'll get there eventually.
In any case, Monday night the rational part of my brain was saying that so long as we went gently (and used a condom and water based lube) and stopped or eased up if I was experiencing any pain, then sex should be alright by now, my body was 'feeling up to it'. On the other hand, the less than rational part of my brain was inevitably screaming "SEX! NOW!"
So late Monday night, we fell into bed together.
Naturally, Sir was also being cautious and careful, but I was not merely 'doing fine', I was well, discovering what sex with rings through my labia felt like. (As, was he.)
At times, it felt the way sex without rings feels like. But then at other times, I was AWARE. Not in a bad or painful way at all, just in a 'very paying attention to my body' kind of way.
I've no idea whether it was the addition of the new hardware, the feeling of being so completely His, or 'merely' the intervening roughly month and a half without penetrative sex with a partner, whether it was any one of the above, or a combination of several that led to me cumming so quickly. All I know is that afterwards I felt very happy.
And very close to him in ways I hadn't before we had the rings placed through me.
Sure, that part is all subjective and psychological on my part. No argument there. But if part of the reason to do such is the psychological changes that occur, well I consider that valid reason enough.
Non-kinky people may not feel they understand that. But if they've ever constructed a purely subjective delineation betwixt sex inside or external to marriage they've probably felt something similar.
As has often been said, the strongest of the sex organs is the one between your two ears.
Monday night was very special for us.
I've been being very careful with my fresh piercings, giving them the ongoing cleaning attention, but not unnecessary attention (i.e. fiddling with them, which would only increase the odds of infection.) And generally taking time to heal.
Which is not to say I'm completely healed by any means, just that I've been being careful and taking good care of myself. While I know new piercings can have their ups and downs, these have gone incredibly well so far.
Yes, I know I haven't even really written the REAL post about getting pierced yet. I suppose I'll get there eventually.
In any case, Monday night the rational part of my brain was saying that so long as we went gently (and used a condom and water based lube) and stopped or eased up if I was experiencing any pain, then sex should be alright by now, my body was 'feeling up to it'. On the other hand, the less than rational part of my brain was inevitably screaming "SEX! NOW!"
So late Monday night, we fell into bed together.
Naturally, Sir was also being cautious and careful, but I was not merely 'doing fine', I was well, discovering what sex with rings through my labia felt like. (As, was he.)
At times, it felt the way sex without rings feels like. But then at other times, I was AWARE. Not in a bad or painful way at all, just in a 'very paying attention to my body' kind of way.
I've no idea whether it was the addition of the new hardware, the feeling of being so completely His, or 'merely' the intervening roughly month and a half without penetrative sex with a partner, whether it was any one of the above, or a combination of several that led to me cumming so quickly. All I know is that afterwards I felt very happy.
And very close to him in ways I hadn't before we had the rings placed through me.
Sure, that part is all subjective and psychological on my part. No argument there. But if part of the reason to do such is the psychological changes that occur, well I consider that valid reason enough.
Non-kinky people may not feel they understand that. But if they've ever constructed a purely subjective delineation betwixt sex inside or external to marriage they've probably felt something similar.
As has often been said, the strongest of the sex organs is the one between your two ears.
Monday, January 14, 2008
Winter Fetish Fair Fleamarket XXX
So the Flea is over, and we've headed on.
It had its moments, both good and well, to be perfectly frank, rather pathetic.
In the positive column; , stumbling across an old friend, spending a few brief minutes in the bullwhip lounge, interesting discussions between Sir and I sparked by workshops we went to, silk, flax, and hemp ropes, a new singletail, and even some new leather, (for later, that I've not earned yet), and a major 'plus', Providence, Rhode Island and the hotels, convention center, etc.
A good hotel experience can go a long way towards serving as a bulwark against not such good parts of an event. Providence itself was also a real win, and doubly so in light of the Fetish Fair Flea's previous experiences in Massachusetts.
By way of a middle column, somewhere between positives and negatives, or more accurately as a mix of both, we were fortunate enough to be able to attend all three of Midori's workshops; "Asian Rituals for Western Lovers", "Bondage Outside the Box", and "Make 'em Blush, Make 'em Squirm: Erotic Humiliation Play". All three were useful in terms of some of the conversations Sir and I ended up having, both good and bad.
But part of the real 'mixed bag'-ness of the three workshops was the 'massive herd' mentality that led to long lines to get in, tons of people, and naturally, the settings the workshops were in provided very few seats that actually afforded full views of what was going on. Thus, most audience members heard the presentations but could not see much of what was happening. Such could have been avoided in several ways, but for each of the three workshops, the same scenario played out.
In the negative column; certain aspects of some of the presentations, Some of the ways 'pros' were just woven through the event (in not so good ways), poorly woven whip handles, and I suppose my personal 'low' award for the event- a presenter who couldn't be bothered to show up on time for her own workshop due to... broken nails and an emergency quest for a manicurist. This from a woman whose website says, and I quote "don't waste my time", perhaps she might consider taking her own advice. (I've no qualms about naming names, as the workshop and presenter was publicly available on the FFF XXX website- "Mistress LunaSea")
Now I've seen everything. Suffice it to say, we felt no need to 'bottom' to her by waiting around to see whether or not she'd show up- so in the end I've no idea whether any form of the workshop managed to go forward or not, if it did, it went forward late and without us.
No presenter should ever need be tracked down by the event organizers AFTER the time their workshop was due to start, only to be reminded they had a workshop. D'oh. No, I wasn't impressed.
Sir and I also intentionally wandered into the 101 style "BDSM for beginners" for a number of reasons, not the least of which being trying to understand the 'intake path' many of today's newcomers are experiencing. (By way of readily admitting my own biases here, I've taught 101 workshops in the past.) I may or may not eventually get to writing about such, but for the time being, simply consider this another tidbit we both felt best deserved the negative column- and unfortunately the ramifications of such will continue to echo forward. More so still, in that this particular presentation has been an entry point for people in many times and places.
If I sound cynical and somewhat jaded, it's only because in some ways, I most certainly am.
On the other hand, as we somehow almost always seem to, Sir and I still managed to make some very high quality "us" time, which makes even broken nail absurdity somehow not only bearable, but something I'm just able to dismiss as the pathetic current state of affairs in some corners of 'The Scene'.
While I'm still glad I went, I am not sure I'd feel the need to return in the near future. That may be more a reflection of where Sir and I stand, though. The workshops we attended in many ways felt very 'beginner', and most of what was available at the market itself were things, and often dealers that in our travels we had seen over and over. That's not necessarily a bad thing, but for us, either visiting the brick and mortar stores when possible, or using online ordering takes care of most of what we would want from such.
Fortunately, though, there was the happy exception or two. I spend time at marketplaces like this looking for the unique, the unusual, and the custom. Radiance Bound for example was doing some lovely metallic work, very appropriate to formal Leather occasions, and some of Madame Butterfly's handmade silk rope came home with us.
The final thing to note about the FFF is that for 'outsiders' (those from out of New England for example), there is no main dungeon or 'play party' as part of the event, so what goes on, usually happens via pre-existing loose networks of friends or NE Leather organizations in private spaces. Without an 'in', you'll have to resort to a private evening in your own hotel room.
While this was absolutely fine for Sir and I (and yes, had we wanted to attend a party, that could have been arranged, we were not interested in such, this time, anyway) other people may find the 'barriers to entry' a bit high. It would be better to get to know people and build ties to organizations prior to the event if gaining an invitation to a party is important to you.
*** Addendum- there was an article Sunday in the Providence Journal- "Sex-Toy Trade Show Sports a Global Face".
I'm not altogether sure quite what I make of the article's angle, the 'sex toy biz'/"trade show", but apparently that was how the Journal understood the event. Clearly, they missed the fact that while the shopping is a major part of the event, what with being in the name and all, the real action had little to do with vendors. Most participants spent time in workshops or in hotel rooms practicing said newly acquired skills.
To simplify the flea down to a story about the American vs. Chinese sex toy industry and label the event a 'trade show' was just, well bizarro-world, though it certainly says a great deal about how 'outsiders' sometimes see us or comprehend us.
It had its moments, both good and well, to be perfectly frank, rather pathetic.
In the positive column; , stumbling across an old friend, spending a few brief minutes in the bullwhip lounge, interesting discussions between Sir and I sparked by workshops we went to, silk, flax, and hemp ropes, a new singletail, and even some new leather, (for later, that I've not earned yet), and a major 'plus', Providence, Rhode Island and the hotels, convention center, etc.
A good hotel experience can go a long way towards serving as a bulwark against not such good parts of an event. Providence itself was also a real win, and doubly so in light of the Fetish Fair Flea's previous experiences in Massachusetts.
By way of a middle column, somewhere between positives and negatives, or more accurately as a mix of both, we were fortunate enough to be able to attend all three of Midori's workshops; "Asian Rituals for Western Lovers", "Bondage Outside the Box", and "Make 'em Blush, Make 'em Squirm: Erotic Humiliation Play". All three were useful in terms of some of the conversations Sir and I ended up having, both good and bad.
But part of the real 'mixed bag'-ness of the three workshops was the 'massive herd' mentality that led to long lines to get in, tons of people, and naturally, the settings the workshops were in provided very few seats that actually afforded full views of what was going on. Thus, most audience members heard the presentations but could not see much of what was happening. Such could have been avoided in several ways, but for each of the three workshops, the same scenario played out.
In the negative column; certain aspects of some of the presentations, Some of the ways 'pros' were just woven through the event (in not so good ways), poorly woven whip handles, and I suppose my personal 'low' award for the event- a presenter who couldn't be bothered to show up on time for her own workshop due to... broken nails and an emergency quest for a manicurist. This from a woman whose website says, and I quote "don't waste my time", perhaps she might consider taking her own advice. (I've no qualms about naming names, as the workshop and presenter was publicly available on the FFF XXX website- "Mistress LunaSea")
Now I've seen everything. Suffice it to say, we felt no need to 'bottom' to her by waiting around to see whether or not she'd show up- so in the end I've no idea whether any form of the workshop managed to go forward or not, if it did, it went forward late and without us.
No presenter should ever need be tracked down by the event organizers AFTER the time their workshop was due to start, only to be reminded they had a workshop. D'oh. No, I wasn't impressed.
Sir and I also intentionally wandered into the 101 style "BDSM for beginners" for a number of reasons, not the least of which being trying to understand the 'intake path' many of today's newcomers are experiencing. (By way of readily admitting my own biases here, I've taught 101 workshops in the past.) I may or may not eventually get to writing about such, but for the time being, simply consider this another tidbit we both felt best deserved the negative column- and unfortunately the ramifications of such will continue to echo forward. More so still, in that this particular presentation has been an entry point for people in many times and places.
If I sound cynical and somewhat jaded, it's only because in some ways, I most certainly am.
On the other hand, as we somehow almost always seem to, Sir and I still managed to make some very high quality "us" time, which makes even broken nail absurdity somehow not only bearable, but something I'm just able to dismiss as the pathetic current state of affairs in some corners of 'The Scene'.
While I'm still glad I went, I am not sure I'd feel the need to return in the near future. That may be more a reflection of where Sir and I stand, though. The workshops we attended in many ways felt very 'beginner', and most of what was available at the market itself were things, and often dealers that in our travels we had seen over and over. That's not necessarily a bad thing, but for us, either visiting the brick and mortar stores when possible, or using online ordering takes care of most of what we would want from such.
Fortunately, though, there was the happy exception or two. I spend time at marketplaces like this looking for the unique, the unusual, and the custom. Radiance Bound for example was doing some lovely metallic work, very appropriate to formal Leather occasions, and some of Madame Butterfly's handmade silk rope came home with us.
The final thing to note about the FFF is that for 'outsiders' (those from out of New England for example), there is no main dungeon or 'play party' as part of the event, so what goes on, usually happens via pre-existing loose networks of friends or NE Leather organizations in private spaces. Without an 'in', you'll have to resort to a private evening in your own hotel room.
While this was absolutely fine for Sir and I (and yes, had we wanted to attend a party, that could have been arranged, we were not interested in such, this time, anyway) other people may find the 'barriers to entry' a bit high. It would be better to get to know people and build ties to organizations prior to the event if gaining an invitation to a party is important to you.
*** Addendum- there was an article Sunday in the Providence Journal- "Sex-Toy Trade Show Sports a Global Face".
I'm not altogether sure quite what I make of the article's angle, the 'sex toy biz'/"trade show", but apparently that was how the Journal understood the event. Clearly, they missed the fact that while the shopping is a major part of the event, what with being in the name and all, the real action had little to do with vendors. Most participants spent time in workshops or in hotel rooms practicing said newly acquired skills.
To simplify the flea down to a story about the American vs. Chinese sex toy industry and label the event a 'trade show' was just, well bizarro-world, though it certainly says a great deal about how 'outsiders' sometimes see us or comprehend us.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Rings!
So I'm VERY happily wearing new rings in new piercings at the moment.
Sir's rings, holes in relation to Sir. Over a decade in the timing.
I am deeply honoured.
(No folks, this is not the real post about the piercings, it's more of just a placeholder until I get there, but friends wanted to know.)
Inner labia, not my outer, thanks to my anatomy- but all things considered, it's a good thing- less pain, shorter healing time, the jewelry I wanted, far less likely to migrate and lose the piercings, all good reasons.
I now wear two twelve gauge 3/8" implant grade surgical steel captive bead rings.
Yes, it was painful- very painful.
But the experience itself was more than even I had hoped for. I'm incredibly glad I did it where I did with who I did it with- it made all the difference. (I'll get there in the real post.)
Most importantly though, when it was all over, and we were home, and Sir was tucking me into bed, he said the thing I had been waiting to hear-
"I felt like I was very much a part of it, like a participant in it."
Which was not only very important to me, it also reflected the way I felt about him having been there with me- this was about US, and fortunately, that was exactly the way it worked out, very US.
It was the coming to fruition of a lot of things we have both been working towards for a very long time now. When we finally came to it, everything just 'came together'. Thing is, I can't decide whether it was worth the wait, or something we should have done years ago. Either way, the actually doing of it, I wouldn't have done differently. It was in the end, simply right.
Thank you Sir!
Wuzzle!
Sir's rings, holes in relation to Sir. Over a decade in the timing.
I am deeply honoured.
(No folks, this is not the real post about the piercings, it's more of just a placeholder until I get there, but friends wanted to know.)
Inner labia, not my outer, thanks to my anatomy- but all things considered, it's a good thing- less pain, shorter healing time, the jewelry I wanted, far less likely to migrate and lose the piercings, all good reasons.
I now wear two twelve gauge 3/8" implant grade surgical steel captive bead rings.
Yes, it was painful- very painful.
But the experience itself was more than even I had hoped for. I'm incredibly glad I did it where I did with who I did it with- it made all the difference. (I'll get there in the real post.)
Most importantly though, when it was all over, and we were home, and Sir was tucking me into bed, he said the thing I had been waiting to hear-
"I felt like I was very much a part of it, like a participant in it."
Which was not only very important to me, it also reflected the way I felt about him having been there with me- this was about US, and fortunately, that was exactly the way it worked out, very US.
It was the coming to fruition of a lot of things we have both been working towards for a very long time now. When we finally came to it, everything just 'came together'. Thing is, I can't decide whether it was worth the wait, or something we should have done years ago. Either way, the actually doing of it, I wouldn't have done differently. It was in the end, simply right.
Thank you Sir!
Wuzzle!
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Piercings
In less than 48 hours, if all goes according to plan, I'll be wearing two new rings through me. And yes, I can barely contain the slightly nervous excitement.
This has been a long time coming, more than a decade, in fact.
Until now every 'modification' I've done to my body has been in relation to me, myself. I have a previous piercing, done over the Stonewall 25 celebration in New York at the National Leather Conference, by Gauntlet New York. And that is a story unto itself. I had both done very specifically for me, and purely about me.
For a number of years, even as Sir and I were first getting together, I wore a Red Tiger's Eye bead in my pierce, and that stone was in relation to Herself. But on Sir and my first trip to San Francisco, all those years ago, the stone was given to the Pacific near the Golden Gate Bridge (in part because I had no way to return it to her at the time.)
But I'm a little ahead of myself. In San Francisco, we went to Gauntlet (SF), and had the old ring and stone taken out and replaced by a new ring with a Fire Opal captive bead- (an 'engagement ring' of sorts, though I didn't realize it at the time,) from my Sir, which I wear to this day. Then we drove up above the Golden Gate, released the tiger's eye to the Pacific, and it was then that he proposed to me. Now, going on 11 years later, we are not married, we're both deeply conflicted about the institution as such, but for us, the commitment to one another, and desire to be together was what mattered far more than whether or not a ritual was forthcoming.
So the Fire Opal ring, in my clit hood piercing holds a lot of meaning to me. That hood piercing has held symbols or tokens from two of what are arguably three of the most important people in my life. But the hole itself was about me, and was done at a particular moment in my own life.
I've never had holes put through me in relation to another person, and now that's about to change.
These two new holes and rings, will be specifically about Sir. Symbolizing his ownership and control as we move into our second decade together. For the first time in my life I chose to wear these in relation to my partner. For both of us, this is a very large step.
We've been talking about piercings and rings for more than a decade. I even have a previous set of jewelry from ten years ago, that's been sitting. I don't know if those particular rings will ever be worn or not, but our intent has been there for a long time.
I suppose you could say we had a lot of work to do before we could finally get to this point.
If all goes according to plan, these two will be the first of ten through my outer labia. Getting to all ten will take some years. We may space the piercings out even further as each pair of piercings is going to mean some 'down time' an immediate period without that form of sex, and a longer time meaning no baths! (Argh!) Healing each is going to take many months, and then of course, we're going to want some time to enjoy before we start the next pair.
So Monday marks the beginning of a long process.
On one hand I can't wait, on the other, I'm nervous, and needle phobic and no fan of pain without some real warm up first, but this is what it's going to take, and I want Sir's rings. So I'll do what I must.
After my 'Stonewall piercing' my dear friend took me out, along with a hoard of other Leatherfolk to South Street Seaport to find and share some 'flights' of excellent ports. After a rowdy and dreamy evening, we were swept along home in a taxi, across the Brooklyn Bridge under a beautiful moon, off to a brownstone in Park Slope. Getting up three flights of stairs have never felt so amazing in my life.
I know Monday I will be 'flying' too. Sir will care for me, and let me soar all the way home as we leave on our road trip not long after the appointment. All I need to do is sit quietly in the front seat, and let Sir take me home. His.
This has been a long time coming, more than a decade, in fact.
Until now every 'modification' I've done to my body has been in relation to me, myself. I have a previous piercing, done over the Stonewall 25 celebration in New York at the National Leather Conference, by Gauntlet New York. And that is a story unto itself. I had both done very specifically for me, and purely about me.
For a number of years, even as Sir and I were first getting together, I wore a Red Tiger's Eye bead in my pierce, and that stone was in relation to Herself. But on Sir and my first trip to San Francisco, all those years ago, the stone was given to the Pacific near the Golden Gate Bridge (in part because I had no way to return it to her at the time.)
But I'm a little ahead of myself. In San Francisco, we went to Gauntlet (SF), and had the old ring and stone taken out and replaced by a new ring with a Fire Opal captive bead- (an 'engagement ring' of sorts, though I didn't realize it at the time,) from my Sir, which I wear to this day. Then we drove up above the Golden Gate, released the tiger's eye to the Pacific, and it was then that he proposed to me. Now, going on 11 years later, we are not married, we're both deeply conflicted about the institution as such, but for us, the commitment to one another, and desire to be together was what mattered far more than whether or not a ritual was forthcoming.
So the Fire Opal ring, in my clit hood piercing holds a lot of meaning to me. That hood piercing has held symbols or tokens from two of what are arguably three of the most important people in my life. But the hole itself was about me, and was done at a particular moment in my own life.
I've never had holes put through me in relation to another person, and now that's about to change.
These two new holes and rings, will be specifically about Sir. Symbolizing his ownership and control as we move into our second decade together. For the first time in my life I chose to wear these in relation to my partner. For both of us, this is a very large step.
We've been talking about piercings and rings for more than a decade. I even have a previous set of jewelry from ten years ago, that's been sitting. I don't know if those particular rings will ever be worn or not, but our intent has been there for a long time.
I suppose you could say we had a lot of work to do before we could finally get to this point.
If all goes according to plan, these two will be the first of ten through my outer labia. Getting to all ten will take some years. We may space the piercings out even further as each pair of piercings is going to mean some 'down time' an immediate period without that form of sex, and a longer time meaning no baths! (Argh!) Healing each is going to take many months, and then of course, we're going to want some time to enjoy before we start the next pair.
So Monday marks the beginning of a long process.
On one hand I can't wait, on the other, I'm nervous, and needle phobic and no fan of pain without some real warm up first, but this is what it's going to take, and I want Sir's rings. So I'll do what I must.
After my 'Stonewall piercing' my dear friend took me out, along with a hoard of other Leatherfolk to South Street Seaport to find and share some 'flights' of excellent ports. After a rowdy and dreamy evening, we were swept along home in a taxi, across the Brooklyn Bridge under a beautiful moon, off to a brownstone in Park Slope. Getting up three flights of stairs have never felt so amazing in my life.
I know Monday I will be 'flying' too. Sir will care for me, and let me soar all the way home as we leave on our road trip not long after the appointment. All I need to do is sit quietly in the front seat, and let Sir take me home. His.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Seeing Herself
To begin with, it's sometimes funny what I consider 'personal'. I can write a post about being flogged, but when it comes to writing this, I pause. Perhaps in part because she'll be reading it, but also in that, well, in some ways, it's personal.
But this is blogging my little leather life, or so I claim, and to avoid writing this would be, well, a rather serious "sin" of omission, in no small part because it is what is a very serious part of my 'now', and in part because it's also part of my Leather 'then' as well.
I'm not going to attempt to write any version of the story of us here, at least not now. Suffice it to say, Herself (which sometimes should be more aptly written herself), is what I'll use here to refer to the womyn who was, for a time, my wife. A time that came to a close almost as soon as it began. Not by my decision, but by hers.
We've been apart for over 11 years now, and for all but the last few months, been completely out of contact. Which is its own long story that, no, I'm not going to write here either. She knows, and I know, and that's what matters here.
So we have been back in contact for less than a year now, almost entirely via e-mail, with one phone call, on her Birthday. It was the first time I had heard her voice in well, forever; lifetimes, relationships, marriages.
Clearly, we each have our own 'nows'. I, to my own surprise, have been steadfastly with Sir, and she has had her own relationships and entanglements and disentanglements with both people and the State in relation to such. I've left my beloved midwest to return to the general area near where she and I spent our years together. She on the other hand has left her beloved here to return to a place that she in some ways feels is not hers. Over time, though, my here, or more specifically Sir's here, has become such a part of me that this is my home now. He chose this place and I agreed to come to him.
So now, all these many years later, she has pined for a specific Yule gift from me- the ability to see me once again.
There is of course, much more to it than simply she and I coming to our own end. There was another person, and much pain, and much unnecessary pain, and interference that kept us from even being able to communicate, much less draw things to any kind of civilized close at the time. All of which, of course, is my far too polite way of saying bad things happened, bad things far beyond the control of the two of us. Not that she (or realy either of us) is some form of innocent party in the course of all of this, just in that many things happened that had nothing to do with anything either of us would have wanted or had any control over.
So she has asked to see me.
Naturally, this had lead to a great deal of introspection on my part.
There is the person she once was, and there is the person she is now, and there is everything in between. And there is the person I once was, the person I am now, and everything in between. Mainly though, there is time in between, and more than a decade, much of which was spent not knowing if she was alive or dead.
More than my wife, I placed my collar around her lovely neck, and called her my own.
My obligations to her, to that, did not end at the edge of our time together. A collar is a lifelong commitment for me.
So I have chewed upon this request of hers for some time now. Sir and I have spoken, and pondered, and worked through and through and through this. Oddly, it turns out he may be more comfortable with such than I am.
In the end, despite everything, or perhaps due to everything, I have come out to 'yes, but on my own terms'. That is all I can give.
Our Fetish Flea trip will, at one point take us near her, and come January, for one afternoon, she and I will finally come face to face, a culmination of so much. More than words can begin, really.
I suppose you can see now why I couldn't not at least give this its due. This is my now. And seeing her will be, well, no, not blogworthy, simply a significant, (hell, momentous) occasion, to me anyway.
I walk into this not knowing what I will do. We may cry, laugh, be awkward with one another, prattle on unceasingly, scream at each other, come around to some strange version of restoring the friendship that was there so long before we even came together, or walk out, perhaps never to see one another again. I don't know.
All I know is that in this, I can't deny her her request.
And that is all tangled in with Leather ideas of responsibility, and loyalty, and honour, along with deep sadness, betrayal, and even still smouldering anger.
Mostly, though, I've missed her.
And I'm so damn glad she's not dead.
But this is blogging my little leather life, or so I claim, and to avoid writing this would be, well, a rather serious "sin" of omission, in no small part because it is what is a very serious part of my 'now', and in part because it's also part of my Leather 'then' as well.
I'm not going to attempt to write any version of the story of us here, at least not now. Suffice it to say, Herself (which sometimes should be more aptly written herself), is what I'll use here to refer to the womyn who was, for a time, my wife. A time that came to a close almost as soon as it began. Not by my decision, but by hers.
We've been apart for over 11 years now, and for all but the last few months, been completely out of contact. Which is its own long story that, no, I'm not going to write here either. She knows, and I know, and that's what matters here.
So we have been back in contact for less than a year now, almost entirely via e-mail, with one phone call, on her Birthday. It was the first time I had heard her voice in well, forever; lifetimes, relationships, marriages.
Clearly, we each have our own 'nows'. I, to my own surprise, have been steadfastly with Sir, and she has had her own relationships and entanglements and disentanglements with both people and the State in relation to such. I've left my beloved midwest to return to the general area near where she and I spent our years together. She on the other hand has left her beloved here to return to a place that she in some ways feels is not hers. Over time, though, my here, or more specifically Sir's here, has become such a part of me that this is my home now. He chose this place and I agreed to come to him.
So now, all these many years later, she has pined for a specific Yule gift from me- the ability to see me once again.
There is of course, much more to it than simply she and I coming to our own end. There was another person, and much pain, and much unnecessary pain, and interference that kept us from even being able to communicate, much less draw things to any kind of civilized close at the time. All of which, of course, is my far too polite way of saying bad things happened, bad things far beyond the control of the two of us. Not that she (or realy either of us) is some form of innocent party in the course of all of this, just in that many things happened that had nothing to do with anything either of us would have wanted or had any control over.
So she has asked to see me.
Naturally, this had lead to a great deal of introspection on my part.
There is the person she once was, and there is the person she is now, and there is everything in between. And there is the person I once was, the person I am now, and everything in between. Mainly though, there is time in between, and more than a decade, much of which was spent not knowing if she was alive or dead.
More than my wife, I placed my collar around her lovely neck, and called her my own.
My obligations to her, to that, did not end at the edge of our time together. A collar is a lifelong commitment for me.
So I have chewed upon this request of hers for some time now. Sir and I have spoken, and pondered, and worked through and through and through this. Oddly, it turns out he may be more comfortable with such than I am.
In the end, despite everything, or perhaps due to everything, I have come out to 'yes, but on my own terms'. That is all I can give.
Our Fetish Flea trip will, at one point take us near her, and come January, for one afternoon, she and I will finally come face to face, a culmination of so much. More than words can begin, really.
I suppose you can see now why I couldn't not at least give this its due. This is my now. And seeing her will be, well, no, not blogworthy, simply a significant, (hell, momentous) occasion, to me anyway.
I walk into this not knowing what I will do. We may cry, laugh, be awkward with one another, prattle on unceasingly, scream at each other, come around to some strange version of restoring the friendship that was there so long before we even came together, or walk out, perhaps never to see one another again. I don't know.
All I know is that in this, I can't deny her her request.
And that is all tangled in with Leather ideas of responsibility, and loyalty, and honour, along with deep sadness, betrayal, and even still smouldering anger.
Mostly, though, I've missed her.
And I'm so damn glad she's not dead.
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