Thursday, January 08, 2015

Demon Child

Perhaps it was how he was dressed. Where the rest of the party was head to toe in black, fetish wear, naked or like me in a corset with pants that I hoped did pretty things for my Puerto Rican bottom, he was wearing button down plaid and jeans.

It may have been the blue eyes noticeable even under the low light.

It may have been the fact that he was the only person wandering about who wasn't with anyone else, and seemed slightly younger than the rest of the crowd, most likely 25 or 26. It wasn't that he stuck out like a sore thumb, just that he looked out of place considering the usual menagerie that I find Powder. And he looked lost.

I have a thing for lost causes and people that need educating, let’s face it. It’s the teacher in me, the mentor, the guide and having been in and around enough, I like helping people out who seem like they don’t know what they are doing.

So I did what I do.

“You look lost.”

“Do I?”


“I’m not lost.”

I introduce my most devilish self to this creature who is not lost.

“I’m Hellion.”


“And what are you, Hellion?”

We talk for a bit and realize that we are both on the same side of a coin both being dominant, but me with better gear and more experience. Which of course lead to me handing whips over, much like teaching a flogging class, and giving instructions on hand motion, swinging, how to hit, when to hit, what to hit and why to hit. Which of course lead to dancing with floggers in the pale moonlight.

"You aren't a succubus aren't you?" he asked at some point as the evening was winding towards it's inevitable end.

"Jury is still out on that."

The lights went out on the evening in the nicest possible way, and at least at the end of it I had made a new friend.

Regardless of the distraction of naked people wandering around a dungeon, whips and chains and loud music,  we managed to at least remember to exchange numbers, which made it easier to find him again for hanging out later. Which he was happy to do, since I could offer company, a clean apartment, a small dog, and booze.

"I'm going to go to a movie."

"Which movie?"

"John Wick."

"I want to see that."

"Want to come with?"


"Cool, I'll get tickets."

“Want to get drunk before the movie?”

That stopped me.

Which lead to questions I should not ask.

"Exactly how old are you?"


"Excuse me?" No, really, I was actually incredulous.

"20, why, you're like 28 right?"

Somewhere, on the other side of the country, the Balance was laughing his ass off.

There is something interminably fun, though, about hanging out with 20 year olds in New York City. One was never at a loss for hanging out with 20 years olds in Korea, or at least those in their 20s, as the country is full of them. Maybe age, more than anything else, is one of the many reasons I’m not sorry I’m gone. The crowd was getting younger ever year, and those that were staying were marrying and having families, which was a road in Korea I’d never travel. Hanging out with Quartermain and Ladybug, both decidedly in their young twenties, and both very smart, well thought out, and fun to be with, made life easier, and more exciting. Granted I'm not ageist enough to care, I just like good company, fun times and conversation. At this point, I'll take it where I can get it.

And if it's in the young set in the America's, why not.

I nothing else, it will be an adventure.

"You know, we can also get drunk in the movie," I say dangling shiny metal objects.

“You have a flask?!”

"Of course!"

"That's so awesome! I've always wanted a flask."

I'm almost positive that flask is as old as the Demon child, but I'll keep that to myself.

We hit the movie, with my flask full, and left with my flask empty. Fall in New York was over, and winter was most definitely in the air. It was chilly and the night was flush, lights twinkling, and wind that sounded like a song. I had enjoyed my movie and the company was making it even better.

I feel like there will be stories in it.

Wednesday, January 07, 2015

Making Friends, Hurting People

I hit Powder after having a chance to see Mr. Mark Lanegan sing again, this time with his band. Mark brought everything I would expect him to bring to a concert, opening with the Gravediggers Song and ending with a few pieces from his Screaming Trees days.

I was pumped, wearing a corset, and feeling ready to get some spank on so I hit Powder. At previous parties I’d managed to spank the rears off a few willing victims so I figured I could at least burn of a bit of energy. I got in the door a bit late, but that is neither here nor there for a dungeon. Ho

Step two, of course was to visit the local dungeon, and I wasn’t in a hurry to leave. The party that night was fairly quiet-mostly as a consequence of there being about five different events in New York to choose from that night. I think I chose wisely.

I wandered about the party for a bit and spent way too much time talking to a leather worker who talked me into two beautiful patent red leather dragon tail whips, which I very much intended to take with me to Korea (with an awareness that this might well get my suitcase booted, but it seemed worth the risk).

With whips in hand I wanted to dance. There is something about dancing with floggers that is a lot of fun, and when the dungeon is quiet and there aren’t a lot of people to talk to, dancing with floggers always seems like fun.

Sometimes I have to wonder about what I do for a good time.

The gentleman who kept wandering around looking lost kept attracting my attention, and since there were only about fifteen people about at the time, he seemed like a good place to start a conversation.