The Colors of the Scene

Yesterday night while at Mistress Cyans tribute to her challenge of C, I witnessed an occurrence that was profound and unique.  First I must bear my best wishes to MC for her difficulty-to a well deserved recovery I wish upon you dear.  And while I do not know C, I do know a good fight having suffered TBI-fuck, it’s hard.

So…Last night I decided to play with a genetic male who was profoundly into foot worship and nylons.  A little hesitant, I decided to play after a second round of overture.  I have to say it was amazing.

I wrote Sandra this morning and told her while we played I laughed aloud with enthusiasm. Like OMG, this person so loved my feet and legs in nylons. His reaction was like the sub-space I feel in bondage. An amusing enlightenment.

And in this, I discovered that we are spirits. Male, Female, Trans, we are persons who play; and the play is between spirits. For a moment, I transcended the mere measure of plain sight, I could see the color of us. His color, mine, others.

Crazy I know how it reads, yet I felt I could see our hue, a color of us. This persons shine was so bright around his silhouette, like a light. I played for a brief five minutes. And it was fun…more so, I got him on his back and began to choke him with my thighs, and then, with my feet and shins.

My legs became an extension rarely explored, like tentacles I told Sandra, I let my legs loose on him. As he withered in the loss of breath he so enjoyed my nylon legs, hovering his hands up and down my legs…while bondage is my game his was this, and it was new to him above all! Holy shit. A super veteran of this play, this was his first…never played liked this.

My pleasure.

-xxx’s

DK

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