Of Whips and Wasps: Delta 2011

Delta weekend is something I look forward to, maybe more than most any other event in the year. To the point where I've become a member of the board and operate as Club Secretary. I also now create the musical playlist that gets turned on at the Upper Dungeon space. There are some men there I see only once a year, and in one case, grieve in his absense. We got to spend several, intimate hours together this year, and, as usual, his generousity overwhelms me. 

My play was limited this year, just not by lack of desire. Friday evening I took a sturdy flogging from Derick from London, then the following day a good beating from a long-time member who happened to comment "why have we never played?" As well as a private, closed room cuddling session with a Daddy Dog I was fortunate enough to meet over the summer in California.

But then I went to witness a very intense scene where everyone was watching intently, in silence. I felt something VERY painful in my back and got up to move away, as not to let my personal discomfort disturb the proceedings. As I exited the area, I felt ANOTHER very painful burning sensation in my shoulder, realized I was being stung by something, and started to run. When the THIRD pain struck, I realized that whatever was doing this had somehow gotten under my shirt and was one very pissed off insect. If you can envision me trying not to yell, running through the trees and ripping my shirt off (and getting a fourth bite in the process), it probably looked pretty funny.

But once the shirt came off, I spotted my nemesis; a black wasp had somehow gotten under my shirt and decided to come back in for one more pass at my leg before I finally got away from the little bastard. 

That was five wasp bites in rapid successsion (two on my back, one on my side, one on my chest and one on the leg), and I had come as far as Sanaford Hall (aka, the lower gym) shouting for a Taxi.

They motored me to the medical center, where I was promptly creamed, iced and given some antihistimines. The bites burned like a sonofabitch, and frankly, exhausted me. As soon as the Sunday Banquet was over, I returned to my bunk and passed out till breakfast the following morning, blowing off 4 playdates in the process. I also broke out in hives, which made my face look like The Joker in The Dark Knight. 

However. This is not to say that I had a bad time. As many here know, there's plenty of bloggers who come to camp each year, and I love and cherish my time with each of them. This year, I invited 5 new folks to come, and it looks like 3 will be members, as well as two other men I took it on myself to sponsor. And after elections, I was once again asked to stay on another year as secretary. I was proud to answer in the affirmative.

Let the planning begin.