50 Freaks, Part 4

Finally, the last installment. The longest one, too. Might want to get a beverage and settle in.

Getting up Sunday morning sucked, but Strict Dave's Court is a must-see event, period. So after showering and dressing, I went to get us both coffee while John went to the suite. We like to get there early so we can get a good seat, because the "court" gets packed.

Well, we were super early. Turned out it had been moved from 11 to noon. (groan). Oh well... we were there, so we hung out and chatted until it was time for court to convene, which ended up being about 12:20.

As always, lots of fun and silly cases, and Bob actually took me to court for assing his hand! Of course, he knew he had a losing case from the start -- I mean, here was skinny little me, and then this 6' 4" mountain of a man crying, "Waaaaah, she hurt my hand!" But we had a lot of fun with it. He presented his argument, and demanded that I show "Exhibit A" (my ass). When it was my turn to speak and present my defense, I had two points. One, my reputation has been around for many years, and Bob knew very well the risk he was taking when he took me on. And two... "My boyfriend has been spanking me for 17 1/2 years and has never bruised or blistered his hand. Now the plaintiff here has been spanking women for many years as well," I said. "So can someone please tell me why the hell he still has Edward Sissyhands?"

The room fell apart. I love it when I get a chance to use that phrase. :-) Poor Bob. He was a very good sport, though!

After court, John and I went to lunch, and about halfway through we were joined by Bob and his wife Kitty. Then Bob was off to shoot with Alex and Paul, and John and I headed to 960. Sandy had organized a little gathering for (I think?) 16 of us to see a comedy show playing in the hotel that evening -- the headliner was Kevin Nealon, from SNL and Weeds. The signup sheet had been filled, but then Joe told us two people had dropped out, so would John and I like to go? Yes!

The show was at 7:30, so our group gathered at 7:00 and headed to the show. We were up in the balcony area, taking up three tables. It was a great fun; the opening act wasn't very good, but Kevin nailed it -- he was hilarious. At one point he was talking about relationships and how difficult they can be, and how couples are always trying new things to keep things fresh. "You know, kinky sex?" he said. "Spanking in the bedroom? What's up with that?" At the sound of the "s" word, our group let out a huge cheer and started fist-pumping and waving. He squinted up at us and ad-libbed, "I gotta get to know these people!" I think if we had been closer to the stage, he might have engaged further with us. Too funny.

The show ended around 9:00, and then OTKDesire and Stonehand asked if we'd like to join them at Friday's. We had a lovely time with them, eating dinner and talking and laughing. SH had brought big coolers and drinks and so forth to the party, helped Joe with the hotel booking and other stuff, so we owed him a big thank-you as well. John insisted on buying dinner, which I thought was classy of him. The night before, he had paid for Joe's dinner as well, as a thank-you. I do love that man of mine.

Just a few hours left!! Nooooooo! A little bit of sadness was setting in, and indecision. Had I played enough, and if not, was there someone I wanted to play with whom I hadn't yet? I knew I was going to play one more time with Michael and was saving him for the end, but who else? I was sore... really sore. But it was Sunday night, time to go for the blow-out! I was talking with YS and he asked if I'd like to play with him again, and I said yes. He said he needed to take care of Ellee and Beth first, so I sent him off and then approached Strict Dave.

I hadn't played with Dave for the last couple of parties -- he's a busy man and much in demand, and I thought dammit, if I miss out this time, I have to wait all the way until next September. "Are you booked up for the evening?" I asked him. "No, I am not at all," he answered. "Just give me a few minutes to eat something, OK?" Pizza had been delivered again, so while he ate, I sat back down next to John until Dave was ready.

Dave is an amazing player -- he has a lot of skill with many implements, and he can go from the mildest of scenes to the most extreme, depending on his partner. I'd say with me, he's probably somewhere in the middle, which is just perfect. While I watched, he went through his massive bags of toys, pulling things out. My eyes grew wider and wider as I watched the implements pile up. "Don't worry," he grinned. "I'm not necessarily going to use all these. I just want them handy!" Included were several canes, from thick to very thin/whippy. Gulp.

Our scene was almost indescribably good. I completely lose myself in my scenes with Dave, because he's constantly on the move, constantly switching things up and varying, and I never know what he's going to do, so I just close my eyes and go for the ride. He doesn't talk, except to check in (which he does often, and I appreciate that). We started with him in one of the plush chairs and he had me across one leg with my torso sort of draped into the back of the chair. I didn't know what he was using and when -- he kept alternating between his hand and various toys. So many feels, as Kelley would say. This position was good for all the shorter implements, but then he stood me up and led me to the oversized ottoman, draping me over it and starting up with his straps. My head was dangling toward the carpet, and he put a pillow down for me, so I clung to it and surrendered myself to all these incredible sensations.

All too soon it was over, and he scooped me up, flipped me around and sat down with me in his lap, holding me close. Damn. Thank you, Dave. 

After I came down from that high, I looked over to the bar where I could hear some whoops and shrieks. Beth and Ellee were taking turns sitting on a bar stool while YS gave them thigh turkeys. Beth caught my eye and called, "Want one, Erica?" Yes please!

I don't know what it is about those things. They fascinate me. They hurt so bad you practically see stars, but it's just one single hard slap, you know it's coming, you can breathe into it. And then, you have this spreading warmth and a blooming, bright red hand print. Mesmerizing! So up I went onto the bar stool, and YS did first my right thigh and then my left, holding my hand tightly in his free hand. Ow, ow, ow, OW, thank you soooo much...

They're pretty, in a scary sort of way, don't you think?

John and Michael came over to me after that and said I was marked. No way, I thought, I don't mark. But they both took a look again and said yes indeed, I was, and that a couple of spots looked like they were about to open. Uh oh. Then I remembered I had brought Tegaderm clear protective patches, and I said I'd put one on over the spots so I could still play another time or two. John said to Michael, "You can do the honors," so Michael came back to our room with me. It's really hard putting one of those things on yourself when you can't see what you're doing, so I was grateful for the help. Oh, and the humorous remarks while he was doing it. ;-)

YS made good with his invitation to play again, finding me when I was chatting with Heinz and Katarina. We had another yummy scene, with his hand and his favorite well-worn strap. 

It's interesting to me how everyone is so different, and we all have our little preferences. When I lie on my stomach on a bed or couch for a spanking, my automatic reflex is to hunker down and fold my arms into myself, or under my chest. But as I started to do so, I felt YS gently tug at my arms, indicating that he wanted me to spread them out. So I did. I caught myself several times during the scene starting to put them in their usual position, and stopped. Really, if a little thing like a particular arm positioning is pleasing to a top, why not do it? (Yes, I really can be accommodating! Who knew?) Anyway, he was wickedly delicious and I am very glad I came back for seconds!

It was getting later, past 1:00 AM. I knew I had one scene left in me, I knew with whom it would be, and I knew he'd come to me when he was ready. Sure enough, Michael wandered over, but he hung back, selecting a bag of chips off the coffee table and sitting in a chair that faced the couch where John and I sat. There, he ate his chips, staring at me. Unblinking, unsmiling, just looking intently at me. Wanting to make me squirm, which he did. It's time, I thought.

Still looking at me, he tipped his head back and emptied the crumbs into his mouth, then he crumpled the bag and got up. But he approached John first, not me. He whispered something to John, who nodded and then slid all the way to one end of the couch. Then Michael turned to me. "Stand up." I did.

"I'm going to spank you in front of this room full of people," he whispered to me, "and I'm going to spank you in front of your boyfriend. It's going to be really hard, and you're going to take it. You can hold on tight to John; he will be there to support you. But don't you engage with anyone, don't you even think about looking up. You have two things to do: survive this spanking, and absorb John's support. The rest is in my hands. Do you understand?"

Holy mother of fucking God.

I nodded, and leaned inward toward him. "No," he said. "Do not touch me. The only one you can touch now is John. Afterward, both of us will comfort you. But not now." 

Kelley did a video blog detailing her very intense scene with Michael, and she described him quite well. He's such a gentle and loving soul, very kind and caring, but when he goes into top mode, he is so dominant and stern, you wonder where Michael went. It's part of the head space and game for him, and it evokes powerful reactions. I go right into a submissive mode when he's like that. I don't know where it comes from... it's just there.

He put me in position. My head was up against John's side, my face in a pillow, my right arm was thrown across John's legs, and my left arm was tucked under me. And then he began.

It started medium, a steady stream of swats over my thin dress. As sore as I was, these hurt already. Slowly, gradually, the swats grew stronger and stronger until they were loud and hard and soooo painful, and just when I thought I couldn't stand anymore, he backed down into lighter mode, but didn't stop. He leaned down to me. "Good girl," he whispered. "But we're not done; we're just getting started."

He started to pull up my dress. In a reflex action to make it easier, I lifted my hips. But then he leaned down to me again, and this time, he hissed, "I do not need your help. If I want to move you or anything on you, I will do it myself. Do you understand?"

Such a bizarre dichotomy. A part of me wanted to cry right then and there. I felt like a little kid who had been trying to help but then made a mess, and got scolded. But another part of me nodded my head, melted into the couch and stilled, waiting. More, please. No more, please. More, please.

I don't know how long the scene was, or how many more rounds of intense flurries he did. All I remember is mashing my face into the pillow and hollering -- not words, just sounds, animal sounds, pained yet pleasured. John's pant leg was gripped in my fist. I didn't think I could stand any more, but there was no way I was going to stop it. I didn't want to. This was the last scene. This was a man who cared about me. This was going to stay with me, long after it was over. 

When it ended, Michael transitioned immediately, reverting back to his gentle side, caressing and comforting and whispering sweet things to me. I could not move. I could hear the noise of the room, the talking and the playing all around me, but I didn't care. I didn't want to acknowledge any of it. I was as deep into subspace as I've ever gone.

Both Michael and John told me that Sarah G. was leaving, did I want to say goodbye to her? Of course I did... but I just couldn't seem to move. I couldn't say yes, I couldn't say no, and I finally managed to blurt, "I don't know!", still not moving. So John motioned to Sarah to come over, where she knelt down to me. Somehow, I managed to raise myself enough to fling my arms around her and hug her tight, and then flopped back down. Her John came over then and I repeated the same thing, staggering up just enough to hug him, then collapsing again.

I wasn't going anywhere. And Michael knew it. He just waited and let me be. He watched me carefully, checked in with me, talked with John. I kept my face buried for a long time, especially when I felt myself tearing up. Not because I was in pain. But because the weekend was over; this was it. After this, I was going to bed, and then going home. I had to leave my wonderful friends and go back to real life. And I didn't want to. So I kept my head down, shed a few tears and let myself feel.

Finally, I opened my eyes, and turned my head slightly, looking up. "There she is," Michael said. Very slowly, I sat up and then positioned myself between the two men, holding Michael's arm in my right arm and John's in my left. "I've never seen you like this before," Michael murmured. "Are you OK? Are you sure? Is this good?" I guess seeing Miss Mouth turn into a zombie could be a little... disconcerting! But I assured him, again and again, yes yes yes, this was good. This was how I wanted to end my party. I was feeling a lot of emotions, but it was all part of the process.

It was after 2:00, and the room was in full swing with several scenes going on. But I knew I was done. So.... reluctantly, I pulled myself together (Michael buckled my sandals back on for me) and began the process of circling the room, getting my goodbye hugs. And of course, I saved Michael for the last hug before we left the suite. Thank you, dear friend, for adding so much to my party experience. I'm so glad you were there.

When John and I got back to the room, we worked in a companionable silence, packing our things, leaving out only what we needed in the morning, which came way too soon. By 7:30, the car was packed, we'd checked out and gotten coffee, and we hit the road. It took a record four hours for us to get home (and that included one restroom/ice cream stop in Barstow), and John had plenty of time to get to his doctor's appointment.

I returned the rental car. The salesman, who knew we'd gone to Vegas, asked, "So, did you play?" Those were his exact words. I was stupid tired and almost said, "Yes, a whole lot," but then caught myself. By "play," he meant gamble.

Thanks to everyone who helped John and me have a fabulous, healing, happy getaway. And thank you to my love for always being my companion at these gatherings, even though he doesn't play, even though he has to put up with all my nervousness and crazies, even though spanking isn't really his thing, but he loves to make me happy. I really couldn't imagine being at one of these things without him.

So, after all that play, this was my butt on Monday afternoon. You can see where the Tegaderm patch was, and a few spots and marks, but overall, does this look like I had 15 semi-hard to hard scenes?

How it felt, of course, was another story. And the skin is rough. Steve dropped by on Tuesday (no, we did NOT play, thank you), just to catch up and hear all about the party. I lay across his lap and he inspected the damage. "Wow," he said, "this bottom has been busy!" And now on Thursday, it's still sore.

Not that I'm complaining, you understand. :-)