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dananddawn -> do you play or do you connect? (8/4/2012 3:52:19 PM)
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Short version - when you play with someone, do you really connect to them deeply, or is it just ... play that last until it ends and then you go on your merry way? Do you see play as a physical handshake, good and firm and real, but ends when it ends? Or is it a hug that kind of blocks out the rest of the room?
Long version - Not too long ago, I was at a play party, watching a half dozen scenes going on around me. One person was being flogged, another tied up, yet another having needles poked into them….
As I wandered around, I thought about how I play, and how I really didn’t fit in.
I’ve been thinking about it for some time now, and why I don’t (can’t) play like other people, and if it…well, means anything.
Before I go on, here is the disclaimer. For this to make sense, I have to describe how I don’t play. And if that is the way you do play, do not hear in what I am saying that you are doing things wrong. You are not. You and the top/bottom are having fun, enjoying yourself, getting what you need out of it. So there is not right or wrong. There is what I can and can’t do.
The thing that I seek in play is a sense of the trance state. It used to be dom and sub space, but those ideal have become less (known/popular) in the recent years with many people.
It isn’t enough to flog you for the sake of flogging you. I am skilled at it, I can do it well, and you will enjoy it. But for me, if you are able to hold a conversation with someone else during our scene, or when we are done you are clear eyed, or you don’t think about it the next day, it isn’t a scene that will feed me.
I have likened it to dancing. We can meet at a club, both go out on the dance floor, do the moves, and have a good time. But I don’t do that.
I want to grab you from the wall, take your hand and lead you into the middle of the floor, and sweep you off of your feet. To take you in my arms and lead you in a dance, where you no longer have to think or react, but to just allow the dance to happen. And that puts me in the same space, leading our joint dance, creating a joint connection. To allow things to be esoteric, our energies mingle, vulnerabilities open, we bleed desire into each other. Thought becomes mute and the scene transcends toys. We merge in the dance. The idea of conversation or who is watching or what is on TV tonight become things that are not part of us.
Scening, like other aspects of intimacy, are sacred to me. And, in writing this, I’ve found that key that I need in a scene – the intimacy. Not sex, not physical penetration, but intimate penetration perhaps is the way to describe it.
This kind of energy – be it sex, scene, or in a conversation where the world goes on hold while we merge mind and thought and words – is what I want in our dance. The trance, the energy, the connection that lingers….
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