Repeats from Rapture

Now that the Rapturevision site is up and running again, I’m going to cut and paste a couple of my old posts from there to here. These are things I wrote last summer around the time of the big piercing session I had with Mitsu and I’m glad they reappeared.

[Originally posted 7/21/08]

I read my copy [of The Forked Tongue] over the weekend. It was perfect timing because I finished it on Sunday afternoon, just before a session with Mitsu. I’ll write more about that over in the reviews soon.

I spent my morning drinking coffee and eating toast and reading the last section of Flagg’s book. This passage caught my eye:

I've said that for me, BDSM is about making my demons pull the wagon, instead of chasing me -- or worse, dragging me along behind them. Making these things that make me different, maybe bad, a positive part of who I am and what I do. Making these things, somehow, work for me after all this time. What it took to get here, to reverse this burden was acceptance. That was much harder than it sounds. Not the acceptance  of "the community" -- I sought that first, and receiving it left me hollow and troubled. I could play the reindeer games, but they meant nothing to me; they were a mockery of whatever it was that was restlessly moving around inside me. Acceptance by those few found peers was and is integral to the process, but that in itself was not near enough, it just meant that I was not alone in being alone. During this time I was lucky enough to find two close peers to talk to, and that's where the real work began: acceptance of my own desires. (97)

Wow. That is a really encouraging thing to read. And here’s where my post turns into a love note to Rapture.

On the page before that passage, Flagg talks about gradually finding his Pack — sniffing out those few kindred spirits in search of “recognition.” Nine months ago, when I decided I was going to take charge of my demons and try to make them pull the wagon, I stumbled into my Pack. The phrase “Kink is about experimentation.” at the top of Mitsu’s profile was my first clue that I was on the right track.

Using Flagg’s terms, I would say that the feeling of elation I had at my first  session was partly a feeling of recognition. Thinking “I really liked that, and she seems to really like doing it to me” was exciting and comforting and frightening. Every experience I have had with the Fine People of Rapture has only strengthened that feeling.

I think Flagg’s passage is also useful for thinking about Dominant as a Profession. Talk about getting your demons to pull the wagon — how about pull the wagon and pay the rent too.

I’m still in the process of sorting out my demons to see which ones are real and which ones are phantoms. Total Acceptance is still a ways off, but I’m getting there thanks to the guidance of Mitsu and the support of the whole Rapture Pack.

This one is a different version of the review of that session I posted here:

[Originally posted 7/21/08]

I spent the weekend reading Flagg’s new book – The Forked Tongue – and trying to contain my excitement over my Sunday night appointment with Mitsu. I had already written to tell her my limit on marks was suspended and I’m up for piercing and/or bloodshed when I read this passage:

I stood in Hellfire, my girl Tink perched on a padded bench, gone wherever it is masochists go. I looked at my hands, my shirt, my boots... they were spattered with blood. A pool of blood was forming on the floor where I stood. In realistic terms, it was nothing, but at the moment, it looked like a hemorrhage. Deep inside me, something shifted, and spoke.

It said "Yes." (98)

I was shown into the Silver Room to wait. This time the room seemed a little bare. There were no electronical gadgets in sight. No heaps of rope. No giant dildos. The room was just clean and tidy. Mitsu arrived, I gave her presents, then I got undressed.

She began by tying my arms around my back then made me kneel down, forehead to the floor, for a thrashing. We don’t do much corporal, because of my usual limits on marks, but those limits are temporarily suspended, so Mitsu took advantage of my ass. Actually, it was the spot where the ass turns into the thighs, which is turning a lovely shade of purple/pink this morning.

That certainly cleared my head. Then she had me lie down on the bed and she restrained me with ropes. That’s when she went to the cupboard and pulled out the needles.

Mitsu spent the next 90 minutes sticking needles through my flesh. She started on my chest, giving the nipples three needles each with lovely symmetrical rows of pink and green needles down the sides.

She pierced her way down my torso, getting into a nice rhythm removing the caps and lubing the needle.

Then she got to my cock. She started in on a crown of thorns, which was pretty much at the top of my list of Scary Shit I Want to Try, so that was nice. She stuck sixteen needles into the head of my cock, which hurts just about as much as you imagine it would. I think there was a little blood that trickled out at this point.

Mitsu sat back to admire her work and counted the needles. We were up to 57, which struck me as rather a lot. Mistu pointed out that she still had needles left, and would keep going.

She pierced her way down the shaft of my cock and beyond. When she counted again and we were up to 80, she decided we’d go all the way to 100. She added ten more to each of my thighs to make a perfectly symmetrical round number of needles in her specimen.

I was released so I could stand at the mirror and have a look. I liked what I saw, but there was still hardly any blood visible.

I got back on the bed and Mitsu began removing the needles. That part wasn’t so painful, but then I realized the needles were holding in the blood. When the needles COME OUT is when the show really begins.

Bear in mind the mechanics of the male member. An erection happens when chambers in the penis SWELL WITH BLOOD. Basically, Miss Mitsu turned  the head of my cock into a blood sprinkler. Then she told me to masturbate with my own blood.

While I was doing that, she smothered me and choked me and tried out some head and neck pressure points. When I finally came, my torso was a horrific smear of blood and come.

Deep inside me, something shifted, and spoke.

It said “Yes.”

Thank You Mistu.

Although it’s delightful to stroll down memory lane as a very eventful year draws to a close, I keep wondering what’s coming next. There are I days I miss Mitsu and the dungeon so much it hurts, then there are days when it seems like just a pleasant fading memory. I do still have some faint scars on my belly from her needles, and she certainly left a bootprint on my mind.

What’s coming up for Suspend the Rules in 2009 is anybody’s guess.

Stay tuned.