Kinkfest II: Electric Boogaloo.

Today’s class went well. Minax was FAN-fucking-TASTIC!  Whatever people say about us Twins, I’ve found working with other Gemini people is amazing for me because the fluidity and spontaneity isn’t seen as flakiness or strangeness and the capacity for on-the-feet-thinking is mirrored.

I am honored that she trusts me enough to gamely step up to the plate…at TEN A.M., FOLKS…and bring SO MUCH to the presentation.

 Curtsy

Minax. Thank you. You honor me deeply. I’m proud to stand next to you and share.

OH! Before I forget. The badass fucking Buddhist monk I mentioned in class is Thich Nhat Hanh. Go immediately and buy all of his shit.  Start with THIS book, as it is the WIN.

I had some troublemakers in the back of my class…Mister FetLife, John Baku, and several cohorts were the Detention Row…the Group W Bench back there.  I’d be more harsh on them for being so irreverent but for two facts:

 

1)      I don’t take myself nearly seriously enough to give a fuck and

2)      He gave me a Voodoo Doughnut. It is called the Triple Chocolate Penetration
(chocolate doughnut, chocolate glaze, and cocoa-puffs)

‘Nuff said.

Post-class I had a really overwhelming amount of kick-ass feedback. I think I may have to believe that there isn’t a national plot to blow smoke up my ass and yeah, I do well in presenting in Kink and I can relax a little and not get so nervous that I am nauseous before classes.

We’ll see how that works.

I had a moment of connecting with another woman who kind of eerily mirrored back to me the feelings of frustration I have in finding partners. Sure, OK, I pound my own coffin nails into any chance I might have of finding someone when I tell a room full of people I’m not easily intimidated or intellectually or physically dominated and you had best be fucking ready to prove to me why MY time is worth sacrificing to you.  I realize this. But I have this compulsion to tell my truth. What can I do?

As we were talking after the class I said something…I dunno what…and she looked at me and said “Wow I can really see how that impacts you…your energy just totally dropped right now.”

Note to self: there ARE people who “See” you, and you aren’t fooling them.

Ever.

But those are the people who you need to reach out to. They’ll be the ones to help when the mask DOES need to come off.

After the class I was thinking about what I’d just said, and all of the conditions, caveats and such I have learned, over the years, are important to me.

And I was sad.

Why would anyone bother with someone like me when they can have a far, far easier time with any number of other slaves or submissives? Or a number of them at once?  Subs and slaves who are grateful to even HAVE a place to serve, who aren’t fussy and want to have that connection, unimpeded, un trammeled, and, to he honest, singular?

Have I set myself up for failure by being so stringent?

Possibly.

Time will tell…blah blah yadda.

I’d an awesome lunch with some wonderful folks. I talked a lot. But I guess that was OK…they were asking me about stuff and I aims ta please!

I went to the vendor area and OMFG fell in love with and splurged in a GORGEOUS leather skirt…fitted through the knee and flared beneath. I also ordered a matching bolero jacket.

I think they will look lovely.

Well, I should try to scrounge some food.

I have another class tomorrow…what is it…edge play? Something or other.

Though what is edgier than just LIVING in the present moment?  Not bloody much.