Thought that ran through french's head over the immediately past weekend, #693: My god, he's turning into a total Dom; this is fucking awesome.
Jay pretty much never needs a real excuse to come over to my house, I've found, although I like to provide him with them anyway. It sort of makes me feel better about my life in a strange way. So he came over this weekend with the express intent of tying me up. In fact, he was actually at my house before I was even off of work, which was astounding. My roommate Chris, that I hate, let him in. I think Jay's been over a little on the excessive side, maybe, since my roommates let him in when I'm not here. Hmmm.
Anyway, so he's over here, and it's pretty much immediately "no clothes for you, french" time. He was all set and ready to go. Now, I would not exactly consider myself a pain slut. Sure, I love a good beating here and there, but that's not really pain - well, okay, it is, but I really hate sharp, stingy, pinchy pain. Thud and slaps and other sorts are fine. So yeah, not a pain slut, by any stretch of the imagination. Things like nipple clamps and I usually don't get along very well, because they really are more into the pain side of things. But, but! This weekend I managed to have the tweezer clamps on for a good half hour, which is the longest I've ever gone. Usually after about two minutes I'm whining and asking for them to be taken off, but no, not this time. In fact, I pretty much enjoyed having them on. I am awesome sub, hear me roar or something like that.
I also got to wear lots of rope, because we did buy more from instant-gratification central. Well, that, and dammit, I like twisted nylon. If I'm ever doing a suspension, I'll invest in some hemp, but that has to wait until I have a suspension point, and I think putting one in my ceiling would more or less completely void my security deposit, which is a highly unfortunate situation.
But I love being tied up. No, you don't understand, go read that again - I love being tied up. Being wrapped up in rope, whether I am immobilized or not, regardless of which body parts are involved, is a blissfully happy experience for me, and I am perfectly content to aid the roper in roping me up, and then to lie back and bliss out, feeling the rope against my body. I'm not one of those rope bottoms that struggles, and I never was. For me, it's like, why the hell would I want to try to get out of this? I'm trying to stay in this as long as humanly possible here. I might stretch around a bit, quietly flexing legs or back, getting the rope to rub certain places, but certainly not try in any way to get out of it.
So I got to do a lot of blissing out in rope this weekend, which I really haven't gotten to do in a good long while. Luckily for me, Jay is perfectly okay with the fact that I get stupid-happy and pliable while in rope, because apparently he likes to see me in it - even without doing anything else (although the stupid-happy-pliability does aid him in doing those other things). And he did do some of those other things, and he did have me sleeping in a collar, and he did even drag me into the shower with the waterproof cuffs on (which was super-awesome, actually), and all in all it was a fantastic weekend - which ended with Jay saying "I have got to get into the habit of doing this more often again," which I am 100% okay with.