Great Scenes, Etiquette, & Scene Space...
October 23, 2013
So there I was, in the area designated for longer range toys. You know, for whips, dressages, dragon tails, and the like. If you hadn't seen it at the AIS events at Princeton, it's easily recognizable. It is set up on the stage, and marked off by bright yellow caution tape on three sides. In fact, there really is only one way in. That's a smaller opening, approx 3-4 feet, in the rear of it. With the length, and the boundaries on the sides, it's possible to get a 4-5 ft whip into action without endangering anyone... other than yourself and the bottom, that is.
I had been flirting a little with a lovely and willing bottom. In the previous weeks, she had contacted me, and knew I had a bit of skill with a whip. The flirting grew quite a bit more interesting when she remarked that she wouldn't mind trying out a single tail. As I am a friendly and gentle fellow, who am I not to oblige? So, oblige I did. We spent a few more moments connecting, negotiating, and setting limits. Upon our completion, we agreed to meet in a few, and set off our separate ways to prepare.
I arrived to the whip lane first, and placed a chair at the opposite end from the whipping frame. I unzipped my toy bag, and reached in. After a momentary survey, I ran my hands through the items therein. It's a simple pleasure really. Foraging through the lovely leather items; flashes of memories - scenes gone by; years of practice; the wear on this toy or that... Well... you know.
Then, doing my best to be the well prepared top, I set the chosen items in order on the chair. First, the horsehair, obviously we don't want to rush things, do we? She had said she preferred a slower warm up. After a nice work over with the horsehair, she'll be nice and warm... skin tingling and ready for the next item on the chair... The lighter whip. A 4 foot, 20 plait black and purple beauty with a broad cracker. Hand crafted by Paul Nolan, it's one of my favorites. It can float by with a gentle caress, or crack like being struck by lightning.
Then came "Snake," at least that's what someone dear to me calls it. She's right though. It does look like a serpent and was even crafted by a guy named Viper. So who am I to argue? The tanned kangaroo hide is laid out in a lovely braid: half tan, and half black, with a fancy braided handle, and multi-colored ringlets about every 6 inches. I stroke the length of its 24 plait body, feeling the heavy metal insert in the handle, all the way to the custom loop - that accepts the popper - at the end of that braid. I had it custom made, and it is everything I have always wanted in a whip. I gave it one last appreciative look, and then laid it next to the lighter whip on the chair.
Finally, out of the nylon toy bag, I removed my heavy whip. This one has been around. It was made back about a decade ago by Roddy Williams, when he still braided. It has one of the heaviest shot loads of any 4 foot whip I have ever thrown and rolls out like a freight train. The 16 plait signal whip has an almost even mix of black, purple and green strands, all the way to the threaded cracker. It's one of those whips I pull out when the bottom says, "Is that all you got?" lol... I normally grin, and draw it slowly. But in this moment, after one final heft, I placed it lovingly next to it's family on the chair.
As I began warming up my arm, I saw her walking across the floor toward me. I smiled slightly, as I threw one or two more, each accentuated by a loud crack. I watched her flinch, ever so slightly, barely enough to even notice, but it was there. I could feel myself start to salivate slightly; my hunger for the scene ramping. As she stepped up into the whip lane, I saw her eyes flick toward the inert whips, laid gently across the seat. I tsked slightly, and steered her toward the waiting whipping frame.
We spent a moment connecting, smiling, sharing intimacy. I asked if she was ready, she replied breathily, "yes, please..." Slowly, I peeled off her clothing. Each piece, gently placed aside. Until at last she stood, facing me, in all her rounded glory and thong panties... I held her against me, and we spoke for one moment, me indicating my whips... her sharing the parts of her body that she offered to my ministrations. Then it was time.
I spun her around and pressed her lusciousness into the frame. Taking her hair in my fist, I pulled her head back, and gently kicked her ankles wide. As I briefly nuzzled her neck, she sighed. I shoved her roughly forward into the wooden supports, and she hugged it, pressing her soft breasts into the hard, urethaned surface. Then, with a final stroke of my hand on her shoulder, I walked back to retrieve my first item from the chair.
Swinging the horsehair back and forth across her back, I aimed to re-shade her pale skin with a light blush. I caught the beat of the ambient music, and increased the tempo of the horsehair. As the sensation increased, she relaxed into the frame, letting the initial flow of endorphins begin their journey. Over and over the slight sting caressed her, bringing that pinkness up from deep within. Until I knew she was ready. I stepped up, and slid my hand around her throat, and pulled her back into me. The heat of her back warmed my chest even through my shirt.
Stalking back to the chair, I reached for the first whip. I grasped the round turkshead knot that graced the handle and felt it seat easily into my hand. I quickly found my distance and began a back and forth throw. Slowly at first, then varying the timing, the popper stroked her back. Every so often, I would stop my wrist, allowing the whip to create that loop. That lovely, sexy loop that would travel down the braided leather, increasing its speed as it went. Until that very split second, when the loop reached the popper's tip, and broke the speed of sound. Then the whip would continue the swing, leaving a small welt in her warm, flawless flesh.
We were floating together - connected by sound, sensation, rhythm and music. We were on a journey of endorphins, and we both wanted more... I approached, reached around, pressed my fingers deep into her breast. My breath hot in her ear, I whispered, "More?" We made eye contact, hers full of unshed tears, threatening to spill. She nodded, and begged, "yes...please?" I held her close for another instant... then I stepped back, watching her for one more heartbeat. Turning, I stepped back toward the chair.
And stopped. Abruptly. As I stood, my mind struggled to comprehend the picture in front of me. Like trying to understand a train wreck. My chair, the one I had carefully chosen, and organized my toys and whips on... no longer held the leather objects of my affection. No. The chair was now occupied by something completely different - or should I say, someone. There in the chair, sat a pleasant enough looking gent, who was leaned back, observing our scene - from within the whip lane!
As I stared incredulously, my mood started to darken as I noted several things:
1. He had been a mere 3 feet behind where I had been throwing my 4 foot whip.
2. He was staring back at me with a somewhat confused look.
3. My toys and whips, that had been on the chair, were no longer anywhere to be seen.
I would have liked to say that I took this moment to educate him on the finer points of scene space. Even better, I could say that I gave him some pointers about the use of a whip in the scene. I could have looked at this as a wonderful educational opportunity. But... I didn't. What I did do, was do my best to maintain my composure, and "somewhat politely" tell him that it was dangerous to be there, and he should go elsewhere... immediately, if not sooner.
He quickly muttered apologies as he quickly moved away. I watched him for a moment, and after a quick, "hold on a sec," to my bottom, I then set about looking for my missing toys. With the help of the flashlight I carry in my toy bag, I was able to locate said missing whips. They had been strewn carelessly about on the floor, as if someone had simply lifted the back of the chair and dumped them off the stage.
Now. As it was pointed out to me this morning, it is most likely that this gent was new. It is unlikely that he knew how much those whips mean to me. Even more so, it is common place in vanilla society to remove items from chairs - to use them in the appropriate fashion. You know, as an actual support for a human butt.
However, in The Kink Scene, we have this sometimes unspoken rule. Don't touch other people, or their stuff without asking. Their "stuff" can sometimes include people, like in power exchange relationships. Even minor infringements can seem much more personal than expected. Those of us who have accidentally broken this rule can attest that it's serious.
Also, we talk about not getting into anothers' scene space. That's the main reason I wrote this in such detail. When a scene like this is interrupted, it can be incredibly jarring to those involved. It can impact both the top and the bottom. For some, whose sole playdate may have been curtailed or spoiled, it may ruin their entire experience at an event. Hopefully now it is understood why it is important to try and keep out of anothers' scene.
We all make mistakes. Especially when we are in unfamiliar environments. But we also make mistakes in places we know well. Shit just happens. And as it goes in that insurance commercial, we are human. So to the guy who sat in that chair, I apologize. I apologize for being abrupt, and for not helping you understand why it probably looked like I was not very happy all of a sudden. Hopefully you will now see this as a learning experience. I know I do.
And, If you want to know what happened to the scene with my lovely bottom? Well... the rest is probably left to my "don't kiss and tell" rule. 'Cause it was a really great scene...
©2013 Barak & Brat Sheba