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Sunday, 10/11/2009 - 7:34 p.m.

My chest is purple with hickey bites and I have one true blue bruise from a pressure point poke. My back looks like I tangled with a cheese grater. I hurt from my face cheeks down to my butt cheeks. My vagina tried to resign in the shower this morning when the hot water hit it, as did my back. All is right in my perverted universe.

Friday - the Boy got here late and it was awkward. We sat in the living room and cried and talked and cried some more. His plan has been to hold me at arm's length for all these months because when he decided (in May) to move (in Sept.) it would be easier to leave me if I was at arm's length. Yeah. That did more harm than good, genius. I told him I was his woman regardless of distance and I wasn't going anywhere. We discussed the Bird Kid and Mal and set new boundaries on what I'm allowed to do when I bottom to other people. And then the sex. Jesus Gawd.

The sheets pulled loose, the cats all howled in fear, and I had to smother myself in a pillow because I was shrieking.

It was just as goddamned good as it used to be. My twat was mad when it was all over, partly because he fucked me *that* hard and partly because we pulled out Godzilla. Godzilla is a dildo from hell - it's probably 9 inches long and I can get my hand about halfway around it. Apparently we can get it halfway in my twat, too, before I die. I jerked off with the Eroscillator, came, and had hysterics. I cried all over the Boy for a good 15 minutes and felt the best I have in weeks when it was all over.

Saturday - We slept super-late like slugpigs and it was grand. There was a *fabulous* flogger demo at the club and the Boy got to meet Mal. I told the Boy on Friday that if he even got a whiff of crazy from Mal then I wouldn't play with him any more. The Boy said he just wanted to make sure Mal wasn't a crazy or going to freak out during play time and harm me. He kissed me and said "I just don't want him harming my baby" and I turned all melty-gooey. They, thank you deities, got along and talked geek for a bit while I was running around being social. There were so many good people there Saturday night! OMG! We've really been blessed with the new crop of attendees and I hope with all my heart they all keep coming back.

So Mal and I paired off and did the electric chair thing again and it was...different. I'm not sure I'm liking the lust nastiness mixed with my BDSM nastiness. They've been two separate things for so long that trying to combine them is messing with my headspace. It's not bad by any means but it is different. When I top DC or the Boy it's straight hurt-me-hurt-me time. We all get turned on and it's all exciting but it's not about sex. When I bottom to them, it's sensual and I get massively turned on, but it's not about the sex then, either. When I bottomed to the Bird Kid, it was all hurt-me-hurt-me-and-then-hurt-me-some-more but I didn't want to fuck him or vice versa. With Mal we do the hurt-me-hurt-me thing and if we could have sex, all the hurt-me-hurt-me would be foreplay, not its own thing. That's a big adjustment.

I hurt him, a lot, and I was a bitch about it. I did a little warm-up, but not much, and then tore him to shreds. And goddamn, it was *good*. He snarls and grits his teeth and all these cords stand out in his arms and neck and that makes me just want to push all that much harder. There's something about him when he's like that that screams "Hurt me until I cry and I'll fight you every step of the way". {slobber} I made the mistake of torquing him up and then getting close to him. Even tied to a chair and blindfolded, the fucker bit me. It was consentual, of course, but a big damn surprise and I almost slapped his face off reflexively. So it's probably time to give in and buy the bit gag I've always wanted. Once I find the bondage tape, we'll be practicing with that first. He wanted to swap places so we did. I'm not crazy about being blindfolded, especially with someone as new as he is, but I said "what the hell" and went with it. I'm also not crazy about sitting up but I went with that, too. It was all OK. Not horrible, not outstanding, just OK. We took a breather and I checked in with DC and the Boy to make sure stripping down to my underwear was alright by them. I also wanted them to know that no matter what noises I was making, I was fine. When I got back, Mal had picked some of the most sucktastic toys out of the bag. Leave it to the new guy to unerringly find the most painful shit. Feh. We ended up on the padded rack bench, not using any of it because his teeth and nails worked just fine. {stupid grin} I am proud to say I didn't spit on, punch, or kick him whenever he'd piss me off.

I'm beat all to hell. It hurts to wear a bra because the straps sit right on two big bites. Laria, who helped run the first incarnation of the Munch and who was just a sweetie pie dear, showed me once upon a time at a play party all these gigantic brown-yellow bruises she had on her shoulders from bites and I said to myself "I couldn't do that in a million years". Well, it only took 15. My shoulders look like hers did all those years ago. Altho mine are a little more purple-y. There's an almost perfect imprint of his teeth on my back, along with a big blue bruised-up thumbprint where the fucker pressure-pointed me on my right boob. He needs work on timing and being able to read someone but that only comes with practice and time. And I think, in my lust/pain induced fog, I volunteered for more practice time. Heh.

We had a frank discussion at the end of play time because he started to cry, which freaked my shit. Mommy mode sprang instantly to the forefront and squashed all the horny/lusty/pain/floaty feelings but it wasn't bad. He misses his woman so much and is so obviously miserable without her, and I snotted up right along with him. He was worried that I was offended or insulted because he was thinking about her and kept apologizing to the point I wanted to smack him. She's a gorgeous chunky little thing and I'm a gorgeous chunky little thing. We're even the same age, fer chrissakes. My self esteem is more intact but she's prettier and duh, I understand I'm a substitute. I asked him if he remembered my name and if he could pick me out of a crowd and he said yes to both. Good enough for me.

After he left, I beat the crap out of the Boy. And I mean *beat*. It was fast, hard, and ugly. He was there mentally and I was there mentally and it worked really well. I made him cry like he wanted and kissed the tears off his face. And licked them off the blindfold again, truth be told. And cried right along with him for a little bit. I told him "We need to go home right now so I can climb on top of you and ride you like a rented camel. Let's GO." and he grinned. We packed up faster than we ever have, said good night to everyone, and bolted. Turns out it was my turn to be the camel but it was all good. I was still sore from Friday so I had one screaming mimi orgasm and had to stop. The Boy and I laid there giggling and chatting well into the wee hours.

When he got ready to leave this morning I asked him if we were OK again and he said "We're better than OK, don't you think?". Yay us.

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