There are days that I just have to stop and revel in how great life can be. This morning, as the sun bathes the living room with golden light, is one of those kinds of days. I just finished making coffee for the girls, packed them something nice for lunch and kissed them goodbye as they headed out to catch the bus to work. Ahhhh, life is good.

Of course the house looks like a bomb went off in it, the result of a weekend well spent. How good of a weekend? Let me describe my weekend by giving you a quick tour of the bruises that cover my body this morning.

My left pec is covered in a myriad of mouth sized welts in various stages of the healing process. This is where S likes to leave her “mark” on me. Part of our aftercare ritual. I must have pushed her extra hard this last time, the freshest one is a violent arc of purple. If I look closely I can make out the individual teeth marks. I find myself touching the area unconsciously, feeling the dull pain and smiling, knowing I left far worse on her ass.

The insides of my biceps are stripped with dull red welts. Bites from my new armor. In my other life I wear a partial suit of medieval plate and perform with a group of jousters. The articulation on the 15th century plate steel arms still needs tweaking. I make a note to call my blacksmith and have them adjusted before the performance next week.

Canes leave VERY distinct marks. Unlike other impact toys, the cane is the grand champion when it comes to leaving a welt. Long deep stripes of pink mark my ass. Three? Maybe four… I can’t really see them that well. That’s what I get when T takes a class on Topping psychology and I offer myself up as her stunt butt. She warmed up on S’s bottom then went full tilt with me. I seldom bottom, but when I do it is with her… and she has the makings of a truly wicked top.

Then there is the matter of the hickie over my right kidney…Obviously a product of the puppy pile Saturday night. I think Sandra gave it to me after I let her use her new riding crop out on me. Again, another graduate of Saturday’s “Topping Psych 101” class or as S put it, “Tonight on Fox, when bottoms attack!”

Lastly there is the oddly paw shaped black and blue mark on shoulder. Was it from catching another actor’s pauldron during rehearsals? Hard to tell, when the adrenaline is pumping and your swinging 42 inches of perfectly balanced steel... things happen.

Funny, for someone who identifies himself as a “top” I sure have a lot of welts. I thought I was supposed to be the "welter" not the "weltee"?!