KinkFest Report. Pt. 2

A bit late, but it's always best to let your play partners know whats going on with you directly, rather than through your blog. This is especially true when new and more serious information is involved.

For Saturday's play party, I had arranged with PopeBacon to do a "take up" scene.  This is a resistance scene where the goal is for the top to fully suspend the bottom while they are fighting back to prevent that event from occurring.  A fairly dangerous sort of play, and not something that should be entered into without the full understanding that there is a high probability that everyone involved will get hurt.  Like Rugby, no one plans to get hurt, but it is going to happen.  The protocol starts with a simple chest harness and one up-line to the suspension ring.  From that point forward, the bottom can fight back. 

We picked out the suspension rack we wanted to use and waited for our turn.  Both of us were quite anxious and excited.  We talked, teased and looked hungrily at each other as the energy built.  Finally, the rack opened and we commenced setting up the suspension rig and preparing the space. He set out his ropes and I stretched. We shared a breath and I did my best not to fidget while he put on the chest harness.  When he finished, I tested it by turning it into a suspension. Satisfied, I gave him the thumbs up.  He stepped back and we squared off.

We circled each other. I had a foolish grin on my face, giddy with the adrenaline.  He dove for my legs, encircling them both.  I brought my knees up in an attempt to pull out of his arms but he had clamped down.  No chance of slipping out so my best bet was to kick free.  I began to butterfly kick, pulling my torso forward for added leverage.  Unfortunately, he rose up and we collided: the back of his head with my cheek just below my eye.  "Stop!"

Our scene was 15 seconds long.  Within 60 seconds, there was so much swelling I could see my own cheek without a mirror.  The pain was severe and the inflammation came on so fast, I could feel fluid moving and for a moment, I thought my skin had split open.  Ice was fetched and far too much attention was given to me.  I tend to feel embarrassed when I get hurt, and this was no exception. I just wanted to crawl into a hole, hiding from the pain and the repeated questions: Are you ok? What happened?

The ice did a great job of bringing the swelling down.  I slept on my back in hopes of avoiding the pooling of blood in my eye.  It worked, too, until morning shenanigans had me laying on my belly with my head turned out to the left.  Hello Black-Eye! 

Fast forward 4 days.  There is a palpable bump on my zygomatic arch where the impact occurred.  Uh oh, that doesn't feel right.  Is it a clot, scar tissue or swelling in the periostium?  The pain is no longer localized so I schedule time with my chiropractor.  He points out that there is a slight chance that there is a crack in the bone.  I elect not to have x-rays since there is nothing to be done if I do have a cracked bone.  So, I process that info, let the Pope know and reassure him I'm ok.

Turns out that isn't even my main concern.  I am recovering from a concussion.  It was the fourth minor injury that caused me to do a little research.  We had noticed the day after the incident I was having difficulty with basic tasks.   Here I am, a week and a half later, and I am still having problems.  My balance has been off.  Mostly, I have just been stumbling a little on stair steps, though I did have one fall that left me with another nasty bruise.  Keeping focused on a single task has been a challenge. (I.e. "Can we talk about xyz."  And I immediately start checking SEAF email.)  I now have a very good idea of what it is like to have ADD.  Thank goodness the tearfulness is finally over.  I am not a fan of being over emotional, unless it's in exuberance over something fun and happy.

 At first, the social stigma of walking around with a black eye was fascinating.  Now, the physical recover process from the concussion is what fascinates me.