Something about whips

Today was the second day of the GMSMA Singletails workshop. I pretty much spent the whole time working with my eight foot bullwhip. I can't say that I have much going by way of accuracy, but I can throw passably well. I heard a few appreciative comments concerning my form. But most importantly, it was wonderful to just get deep deep deep into whip headspace in a room full of other guys who were deep deep deep into whip headspace. "More than this, you know there's not much."

I just get teary eyed thinking about it. In the wrap-up, Master of Mirage mentioned (addressing the neophytes in the group) that the Way of the Whip can be misunderstood, even by other folks into BDSM. It's just looked at as being too too much. And I guess in a way that is true. I've had enough conversations on Leather Navigator or wherever wherein bottoms will basically say, "That's one thing I would never do." And I don't quite get that. Although I suppose I do. The scene is so intense, and so primal. It's situated the same way that boxing is among other sports. Many kids grow up wanting to be baseball players, but few--if any--kids grow up wanting to be boxers. You get hurt, and there's the potential to get really hurt. And there's blood involved. And it's very intense.

By way of compensation, though, whipsmen are almost a brotherhood within a brotherhood. I can't claim at this point to be any closer to that august circle than at the very perimeter. Which is fine. Which is wonderful, in fact, since it means that there's so much territory that I have yet to explore, so many places I have yet to go to. But still, I feel the warmth that exists there. "You're letting your arm drop too quickly. See... You're doing this, and you want to do this. Crack!" It feels so wonderful having those moments, one man initiating another into an arcane realm, guiding, nurturing, celebrating. You can't learn whip play from a book or a videotape. It's not a solitary pursuit. It's communal.

And while we're on the subject, because Joe Wheeler was given time during the workshop, there wasn't time for the closing. Last year, one by one, we lined up and felt a few licks of the whip on our backs. I was too self-concious to even be much aware of it last year. Too nervous. This year, I was looking forward to it. And when it didn't happen, I was disappointed.

I think I'm ready to go down again. I know so.

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