I have lost my favourite flogger (can you believe it?!). I can only think that I must have left it in the hotel where I last used it but they haven’t seen it… I am really quite upset about it.
I am not a toy whore… despite my buying frenzies, a toy is just a toy, I don’t care about them, but BUT… BUT… this one, this one is the only one that has ever felt like it was part of me. I have had it forever, its strands are wide, and worn-in, softish, I can either sting or thud with it. It is nearly a metre long and I *know* it, just like I know my own hand, it is like an extension of me, it is my primary, my ‘go to’ toy, my only must have. It has perfect length, great weight, lovely feel… I know exactly how to strike with it to get what I want – soft, gentle, tender, kissing caresses to sharp, heavy, thudding, evil strikes, I can do a huge satisfying overarm swing with it and know exactly how and where it will hit, I can hold it short and do quick sharp spinney smacks, I can flick it up between his legs to make him feel good, or bad… all that… I am really upset about it, and I am surprised at my upset.
And I realised after wrote all of the above that I used present tense… to correct: it WAS all those things for me. My connection with it seems silly, even to me, but perhaps it symbolises my early exploration of this kind of play, it wasn’t my first toy, but it was one of the very early ones and by far my favourite.
I don’t even know exactly how long it was to start looking for a replacement that is, at least, the same length… *le sigh*
Have you ever had such a connection to one of your toys, are any of them fundamental? Or are they just toys?