In a welcome contrast to the party at which I called red during a scene and then had a meltdown, T. and I went to a play party this past weekend that turned out to be a delightfully switchy little event for us.

T. flogged me — first my backside and upper back, etc., and then had me turn around so that he could use his riding crop on my breasts, which I LOVE. It was a great scene, partly because we were in the same general area as another impact-play scene that was just really, really high energy — there was a constant back-and-forth of conversation between the top and the bottom that was just as lively as their actual impact play.

And because they were already playing when T. and I started, we knew that was the kind of general energy that was going to be present — meaning, if we wanted a quiet, intense, trancelike scene between the two of us, we’d have to go in another room. But we decided that it would be fun to play near the other scene, and it worked out great.

After T. and I were finished with that scene, and we had something to eat (man, I seem to ALWAYS crave beef after an impact-play scene), T. decided that he wanted to do some self-bondage. Which is fine by me, because I can be a lazy top and just watch him go to work. Which I did. And he did.

T. is very good at self-bondage, and has actually done presentations on the subject for different lifestyle groups. So watching him tie himself up is (1) fascinating, (2) kind of amazing, and (3) hot hot HOT. Once he was as securely tied as he could get, including a rope gag, I decided to start teasing him and fucking with him. (Not fucking *him* — fucking WITH him.)

I tugged and yanked on various ropes, trying to create some friction to his general crotch area, since he had also tied rope around his cock and balls CBT-style. Judging by his reactions, I succeeded in doing exactly what I wanted to do, which was create *some* stimulation, but not *enough* to get him off.

I tormented him in various other ways — pinching his nipples, pulling my shirt up and dangling my breasts in his face (since he had a rope gag in, he couldn’t do anything to them…though he certainly tried). And then I told him to untie himself so that we could go home.

Heh. I’m good. And when I’m bad, I’m better.