Overload

Work hard, play hard. And the harder I work, the harder I play.

When we started this journey in earnest, last fall, saying that it was a bumpy road was putting it mildly. We felt awkward meeting all these self-proclaimed kinksters, and it was difficult to figure out exactly where we fit. At times, it wasn't even clear how we fit together.

I can't even begin to thank those we have met. Those who welcomed us. Those who answered our questions, and showed us where to grow.


We attended meetings. We watched demos. We introduced ourselves, and asked questions, and spent a LOT of time discussing with each other.

The winter was probably a good time to begin, because the scene was quieter. We could settle and become comfortable in our kink. When the spring came, the warmth brought more events. More people at the events. More friends, more love, more experiences.

On the vanilla side of my world, it was much the same. A quiet, calm, settling in the fall and winter, and a slow acceleration of life. I was doing well at my job, and they gave me more hours. A new car, a new dog. The clock began its countdown to my board certification exam, and I began to get jitters.

The harder I work, the harder I play. The harder I work, the harder I need to play. Cram all those endorphins into a shorter and shorter span of time. My evenings are gone; I can't even cook as therapy any more. Baking cookies is more of a chore to get me to the party than a stress relief.

Almost every week now, there's a party. Get beat at Brock's house. Get beat at MRP. Go home with my loves, and get beat at home. It's always busy, always moving. I catch my breath for a moment on Friday afternoon, and then it's off to the concert, off to the party. Who's event are we attending today?

I woke up this morning, and wondered how long I can keep up this pace.

The past weekend was probably the busiest yet. Friday was a public spanking party. Saturday was a small get-together at Brock's house. And then a private scene at home on Sunday. And I feel fine, oddly enough. But I don't think we can keep this pace for much longer.

I just keep telling myself that I have one more month. Three more weeks before it all comes to a head - until my board exam, and the three hours of studying per day will be over. Until then, it has to be in compartments - one section for work, one section for play. The house cleaning can wait. The cooking can wait.

And oh, what a celebration that will be. THAT is when it will all hits, and the walls come down. And I fully expect that weekend to be the be all and end all of debauchery. I want to be beaten and loved, and get drunk, and eat ice cream, and cry, and orgasm, and scream, and feel.

And then, the autumn will come. The world will stop spinning quite so fast. I can stop hold my breath and remember how to live like a person again. To regain my footing in the world.