That was a great weekend.
Such a great weekend.
Left work on Friday and headed to the airport. Picked up Big and his luggage (for a little bit, I wasn't sure that those two had both arrived in Philadelphia together). We managed to find room in the jeep to accommodate Big and his luggage, and headed south to Delta. Hurricane Ivan was threatening, but we managed to get to the site before the rain started or darkenss fell, thanks to Big's excellent navigation. We found our room and unloaded, and managed to get to the dining hall before dinner service shut down.
Lots of sizing up the first night, finding out who was there and who apparently wasn't. Lots of Inferno folks that I was thrilled to see, and a passel of NYers, and some reeeeally reeeeeally woofy men.
Big and I wandered, checking it all out. We found our way to two of the dungeons, and things were pretty busy there. And that was a good thing. Travel fatigue soon set in--and let's remember, I had just worked a full week in the hardware department--so we headed to bed.
But first, Sir presented me with the New Collar. The first one, that I loved so well, made me break out. Red, scaly, itchy. Not what Sir and I were hoping for. So Sir, who always rises to the challenge of a mission (Virgo, doncha know), went in search of a replacement. He found a great woven black leather belt, took it to the nice folks at Mr. S, had it cut down and put D-rings on the end, and voila! New collar. So that was padlocked on, and once again, I was a happy boy.
Quite the night. I hear hurricanes a' blowin'. Ivan hit and hit hard. The rain was pounding against the windowpanes. But, sleeping there next to my Sir, I couldn't have passed a more peaceful night.
Saturday. The first full day of Delta. Right off the bat, I was approached by the man from British Columbia (BC) with whom I had done a chain bondage scene last year at Inferno. He was up for another trip deep into Chain Bondage Territory. Cool.
Of course, Job One was lugging two hundred pounds of chain and sundry other gear down to the dungeon. Luckily, BC was happy to help. And working patiently, the way you need to be with chain bondage, I soon had him helpless helpless helpless, padlocked into 200 pounds of hard cold steel. And he looked unbelievable. And just loved it. Loved it!
Apparently, BC is something of a budding Harry Houdini. The last rope bondage scene he did ended with him escaping. (And the better attributes of rope bondage would be what exactly?) Well, there was no escaping my chains. Uh uh. Under lock and key until I decided otherwise. Heh heh heh. He'll turn to dust before those chains will. And totally no escaping.
A brief word on Run Psychology. Day One, you think you've got all the time in the world. Best not commit yourself. Hold back. Figure out what you're in the mood for. Day Two. The halfway point. You start to feel the pressure. It's not gonna last forever. Kinda like turning forty... you realize that your time there (here, whatever) is limited. Make the most of it. Day Two is clarifying. You get up your resolve. Day Three. This is it, Bucko! Go for the gusto! It's now or... next year.
My Day Two Revelation: I want to Top! Sorry, Tops. I'm not the bottom boy this run. I want to Top again. I want to step up, take the lead, and make it happen.
Day Two brought a great opportunity. He's from Fort Lauderdale. Fort Lauderdale exists in my mind as a sort of Leather Paradise. Paradise as it exists in Islam. Y'know, the thing about all those virgins feeding dates to the faithful. I once whipped three men within twelve hours of getting off the plane in Fort Leatherdale. If the leathergods really find favor with you, you get to go to that sunny warm paradise where the beer is always cold, the bottoms are always begging for it, and cigar smokers are welcome everywhere. Not to mention the omnipresent mid-century design!
And Mr. Fort Lauderdale was just knee-buckling.
And kinda found me woof worthy, too.
But then we talked. As a Top... well, whatever. I wasn't interested in bottoming. As a bottom, Mr. Fort Lauderdale didn't like percussion. As in, Don't Hit Me. Huh. Well that would knock out... just about everything I do. How to parse this?
And then, I remembered the scene that Alpha had done with me that first year at Inferno when I presented a similar challenge. ("I don't bottom," said the man who would shortly be whipped, punched, tied up so it hurt a lot, pissed on and in...) So Alpha gave me a massage, and taught me how to submit, to give it all up, turn it all over, and just trust.
Thus, armed with massage oil, I set off for a date with Mr. Fort Lauderdale.
It was way cool. Oh man. Just beautiful. and he even had a space heater.
That's right, folks, I had a great time at Delta, even though I was cold much of the time! (Higher praise has rarely been uttered by my lips.)
And another amazing thing about Mr. Fort Lauderdale. We had an incredible amount of kooky things in common. I mean, how affirming was it for me to meet another gay man who had an over acting gag reflex? Criminy jigs! I'm not the only one!
Okay. Even though I was deep into Top Mode, I kinda wanted Keckler to tie me up. Lemme tell ya, I think he just rocks. Best I've seen. Beautiful, fluid, and he makes it loook soooo easy. He has such a good time with the whole deal. Such a good time.
I... uh... mentioned this to Sir. And... uh... kinda suggested that he and Keckler have a conversation. Make a plan. I was told to meet up with them after snacks.
So, fresh from a great time with Mr. Fort Lauderdale, i showed up at snacks. Sir and Keckler were a'waitin'. Flanked by the two of them, these two beautiful men, I headed back to the home away from home. There, Sir and Keckler had me hogtied on the bed in nuthin' flat. Sweet. Being Kind Tops, they allowed me to suit up in one of the many flight suits I had brought along to stave off the cold. The ropes felt great. Really great. Keckler bid us goodnight, and Sir and I settled in. Loved that.
Sleeping with Sir that night was, again, sublime. Absolutely sublime.
Even though... y'know... it was Bitter Freezing Cold.
Okie doke. Monday. The last full day.
Gotta tell ya, it was perfect.
To start off with, I gave Sir a lesson in throwing the David Morgan signal whip I got him for his birthday. Sir picked it up right away. I think he's a natural.
And then, it was all about boots. Earlier in the weekend, I had partaken of a great workshop on bootblacking run by black, bootblack extraordinaire. I still have nothing resembling self-confidence, but I think that I can take a shot at Sir's boots without doiong too much damage.
And a hike down along the creek had played hell with Sir's Corrigan jump boots, so I had my work cut out for me. So, I settled myself in the sunshine, and set to work with spit shining. I was at it for a while.
Bootblacking is so pleasantly meditative. And it's great to do in a communal setting. Like quilting. Sitting around chatting. And I think Sir's boots were looking pretty good. No shame in this boy.
I was busy with the boots right up until dinner.
I was kinda feeling the pressure. Doing the fox and the grapes thing. "So I only get to Top in one scene. That's cool. It was a great weekend." That kinda thing.
But the leathergods intervened. By the time dinner was over, I had two scenes lined up with two wonderful men. So after a few cups of coffee, I had a toy bag to pack.
First scene: singletails.
With a wonderful man. The two of us have been sort of circling each other and making noises like llamas in heat for years. No stranger to the whip he.
What can I say. It was wonderful. A beautiful man with a beautiful back. It felt great to take a man on that journey again. Wonderful. Wonderful wonderful wonderful. There is such magic and power in the whip. Such majesty. Like nectar and ambrosia, they're things for the gods, that a few of we mortals get to sample for ourselves. There is no greater scene.
We wound down. He was all giggly. No complete sentences were coming from him for a while. Uh uh. And I was pumped. I was flying.
Okay okay. Gotta shift gears. Gotta get ready for the second scene of the evening.
I was kinda worried about that. I mean, a bottom does not want to feel like the second course. He wants full attention. He wants to be the pearl of great price.
I went out into the (Bitter Freezing Cold) night, spent some time in quiet awe of the stars, cleared my mind, then headed back into the dungeon.
The second scene. My grand finale at Delta this year.
Couldn't have asked for a better man to work with. What a trooper. Again a challenge, though of a different sort. Y'see, there was hardly a square inch of this guy that wasn't already severely bruised. He had had one helluva run.
So how'd it play out?
Well, first, I got him nicely restrained in this big ol' bondage frame. A little vet wrap around his head took away his sight and allowed him to focus. With my kangaroo skin flogger with all the fine stringy tails, I worked his whole body, waking up the skin. This was The Beginning.
Then, I applied clothespins in even lines to his pecs and his thighs. This was no mean feat. His skin was stretched pretty tightly over his muscular beefy frame. But I got them on. Played with them for awhile, playing over them with my fingertips. This was The Middle.
Then I took out another flogger. The brickbat. Elk skin. Really heavy. Takes two hands. That's what I used to take the clothespins off. I took careful aim, and WHOMP!!! The clothespins went flying. Or at least some of them did. They were as tricky coming off as they were going on. And the boy was bellowing like a bull. Oh man was that great.
Another man, another great time.
This morning was all about packing, loading up the jeep. Heading out the driveway and homeward bound was poignant. Delta was great. Delta was really great.
So. So what about the food?
For the record, I had absolutely no complaints about the food. In fact, it ranged from Good to Very Good. And the coffee was really good. Seriously. The coffee at Inferno is absolute dreck. Barely drinkable. But at Delta, whether at dinner or at Command Central, I didn't have a bad cup of coffee the entire time.
Delta didn't have the intensity of Inferno. It was much more relaxed. Casual. Friendly. Suited me fine.
Next year? I have no idea. I think Delta will be held over Labor Day Weekend. And so, of course, will a softball tournement with the Ballbreakers.
I'll have to cross that bridge when I come to it.
What a great weekend.