Diary of a Kinky Librarian

So this weekend didn’t turn out like I thought it would. Alas we did not make it to Dark Odyssey (and basically we donated money to them as it was much too late to get a refund). The bacterial vaginosis I had last week brought on a yeast infection (or at least the antibiotics used to treat it did) and the medicine used to treat the yeast brought on a herpes outbreak like it usually does. So there’s no sex for me this Valentine’s Weekend. Yes, I have V.D. for V.D. (Gotta laugh about it.) I debated being open about it on here or not - I mean, when I don’t have an outbreak I’m very open about it and very into being an activist to destigmatize stis. When I have an outbreak, however, all that goes out the window and the weight of social stigma comes crashing down on my shoulders. I spent a lot of time Friday night and Saturday morning feeling depressed, not just for missing Dark Odyssey but I felt like the sum of my parts was an infectious disease and I felt humiliated and dirty. I actually had thoughts of suicide. Now, the rational part of me (heh, or MasterDoc that is) reminds me that it’s minor disease and I only get one outbreak a year (!), so this will soon pass and life will go on as normal. How horrible would it be to kill yourself over something silly like herpes? But the stigma is such that you really feel awful for having it. Even I, Ms. Positivity about living with herpes, gets super depressed about it. Please, if you know someone with an sti be kind to them, be rational about the risk - they have enough shit on their shoulders from the existing social stigma. They don’t need more from you. The stigma from herpes is always 100 times worse than the virus itself. (I’d also say that the stigma is more contagious, especially if you’re on daily suppressive therapy like I am.)

So after much crying and much depression (and man, was I negative during that time. I really picked on MasterDoc - you’d think I’m miserable with him the way I was talking.) I started to cheer up and realize that I still have a few days off from work, and I’m spending the weekend with MasterDoc anyway. (He’s working a few hours tonight, got an extra shift, but this just means I can take over his new Wii for a few hours. Ha!) Davey already had plans with one of his other girlfriends, and I certainly wouldn’t want him to cancel with her just because my plans had changed. Ultimately, it wasn’t the weekend I had hoped for, but really, how it goes is up to me. I can be depressed all weekend and miserable, or I can enjoy the various parts of it. Tonight I’m determined to enjoy some alone time.

Last night, MasterDoc and I went out to the local bdsm club. After all, my pussy was out of commission but I sure could still be spanked and flogged. I think sometimes I forget how much I enjoy bdsm in its own right, and not just as a precursor for sex. I thought maybe I’d be frustrated getting worked up and not able to finish, but I didn’t feel that way. I got dressed up in my fetish finest (a red pvc dress) and we packed a toy bag and went out.

We spent some time hanging out, watching the slave auction. (Thankfully MasterDoc did not put me in it - I was in no mental state to be given away. I’m sure he knew that.) I don’t know what I expected a slave auction to be like, but somehow it was different than I envisioned.  I think it was reality vs. fantasy at work. For the most part the slaves were pretty normal looking - not like hot fetish models. And some of the male slaves didn’t get bid on. (So sad.) Playing commenced after the auction and we walked around checking out the goings-on. There was a female sub getting flogged but good - two floggers at once even - although MasterDoc said the Dom had no follow through and he wasn’t hitting her as hard as he hits me.

I was anxious to play as after my depression earlier that day I really felt like a beating would do me good. We found a spot with a padded bench for me to lean over. MasterDoc put on my collar and had me pull down my panties and tights. He flogged me and my pain tolerance was pretty good. I enjoyed the feeling of being hit. Then he switched to his hand and hit the same spot on each cheek over and over and over again. Man, that hurt. Now one of the problems with playing at a club is the loud music - you don’t get the feedback from noises that you do in a quiet environment. I did cry out louder when it hurt too much. I felt pushed but ultimately after I felt really, really good. He flogged me some more and I hit subspace somewhere along the way. Afterwards, he sat down and I asked if I could sit down. He said not yet and I started feeling funny like I really needed to sit down. With the collar on I should have said, “I need to sit down, Sir.” but I felt so weird that all I got out was, “I need to sit down.” I got scolded for that, but he did let me have a seat. He held me for a few minutes as I recovered.

We moved on and found another place to play, this time it was a doctor’s examining table for me to bend over. (How appropriate!) MasterDoc remembered my none too subtle hints about wanting my hands cuffed behind my back and he got my cuffs out of the bag. He secured my wrists together behind my back and gave me a flogging. I liked the feeling of being helpless, but my shoulders started to ache after a while. Unfortunately they ached before my butt was done. The spanking was cut short. MasterDoc told me to stand up and I couldn’t with my hands behind my back. He tried to help me but my shoes just slipped out from under me. After a few moments of feeling completely helpless he uncuffed me and I got up. We enjoyed a soda, and then called it a night.

I’m hoping if I’m a lucky girl that I’ll get another beating this weekend. Fingers crossed!