We went to the Bound in Boston after party held at a local private facility. We don't have public dungeons in Boston. It's the puritanical antecedents (along with one highly publicized case) that cause some difficulties.
It had been a long day for Daddy and I and we were looking forward to relaxing. There was plenty of rope, lots of toys, and lots of people. We just wanted to reconnect and get some energy going.
We'd started to play in an area that perhaps wasn't the wisest choice. It wasn't bad, but people seemed to have no problems stepping over us while we were doing our thing. One person walked over my head and stepped on my ear. That pissed Sir off and we had to move. It was too dangerous for me to remain where I was. We stopped to move the piece of carpeting that we were on several feet in another direction so that we'd be more out of the way of the traffic flow.
We'd got resettled and then we had someone start a flogging about 6 inches from daddy's head. When he caught me looking away from him, he snapped at me and said "I'm over here". I just looked at him, and instead of tweaking out at his tone, I just told him that he was about to get hit in the head with the flogger. OK, I hid the giggle when I told him, but both he and I were getting a little bit irked at the people who just seemed to have no fucking clue about what was going on around them. Sir said something to the idiot that was doing it, but the guy was just so fucking oblivious that he didn't even bother to look behind him before he'd started.
We started again and I was having a wonderful time. Crops have turned into something of a favorite of mine and between that and the remote-controlled vibe that Sir had attached to me...I was ready for some definite connection!
But after just a little while, daddy stopped. He got me up and through my haze I thought I'd done something wrong. I just looked at him and asked "what's up?". He said things were getting too dangerous to continue. People were walking through the scene, walking around my head, and weren't paying attention. He didn't want his attention divided between trying to hurt me and my getting hurt.
It left me in a weird point though. Neither high enough to fly, nor low enough to come back easily. I was in sort of a limbo-land. My body kept yelling for more, but my brain kept telling it to shut up already. Instead, we sat and watched some other scenes.
I may not process things completely while I'm flying, but that night I noticed a lot of things. We might not have been able to finish our scene, but there were still a lot of scenes happening.
I watched a flogging scene happening several feet away from us. From my vantage point, I could see the tops' face. He looked bored. So did his bottom. Now whether or not either participant was truly bored, I've no idea. But it seemed as if it was just this guy showing off his flogging technique instead of connecting with his bottom. He never once touched her with anything other than the flogger. And she never moved or made a sound. He never spoke to her, never checked in with her, and it ended not with a bang, but with him putting away his flogger and walking away.
And speaking of technique...another scene that I watched with anticipation was a whip scene. A lovely young woman (in great heels) was preparing to whip her bottom. They'd gotten set up, the woman started the whip...slowly at first. Since whips are also another favorite of mine, I watched this one with bated breath. I was curious about how she was connecting with her bottom. She kissed him with the whip several times, walked up to him and checked in...caressed his back...whispered in his ear, moved back and started again. About that time, some bystander had come up to her and stopped her. He started making arm motions, showing her a stance...and I thought, WTF! Dude! NOW is not the time to be comparing technique! WTF is the MATTER with you? And I felt sorry for the bottom. He turned around to look at why the whip wasn't being thrown anymore and you could see the look of disappointment on his face. It was heartbreaking. I know. I'd already felt the same thing about an 1/2 hour earlier.
I watched a suspension scene. Three lovely women were going to be suspended by a couple of really decent riggers. I've seen them rig before and watched what they were going to do. It ended up as a great scene, but my only thought was that it took nearly an hour to rig those three women. I'd have been bored out of my skull. Maybe it was easier because the women were all playing off each other...teasing and talking. I don't know. It was a fascinating ending...inverted suspension always is. But I couldn't watch for an hour without becoming bored. I couldn't imagine what it would have felt like to be doing it.
I also noticed that there were various other scenes. Punching, self-suspension, needles, But by that point I'd given up. My own ruined scene, the three scenes I described above, all combined to just wear me out. Interesting though they may have been, they all seemed to lack one very important thing that I always look for in a memorable scene. The connection between people. And I think a lot of that was because of the bystanders.
I know it's difficult for people to remember that scene space has different rules. And public party spaces have added stresses on scene participants. Too many people were walking though scenes, offering "advice" in an ongoing scene, talking to scene participants, and basically looking as if they were the ONLY people in the space. They were oblivious to everyone and anything going on. It became dangerous for daddy and I to continue for just that reason. Many people don't bother to play at all anymore for that reason. And that's a damned shame. Because the people that play provide fodder for future scenes, provide the energy for a party to really get going, and provide a thrill for those watching. A friend of mine mentioned this fact. He was surprised at how many people seemed to just be showing off their toys rather than connecting with them.
I'm tired of playing in public scene spaces and having to discuss the lack of scene etiquette after the fact. This is not rocket science. It's basic manners. You wouldn't come into a dinner party and start telling your host how to serve the meal. You wouldn't walk inbetween a mother hugging her child because it was the shortest route. And you wouldn't pretend that you're the only person on earth that counts.
Or maybe, you would. If that's the case then do the rest of the players a favor and stick to the couches in your own home. We like to play in public. We just don't like the public to come up on the stage as if they're part of the play.