Memorial to

Master Aryn Blaque

Lifestyle Master, THE S&M Performer, Mentor, Educator, Daddy, Pro Dom, Feminist and Fucking BDSM Icon

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Remembering

Inspirational Master

Aryn Blaque


By Simone Justice


It is too soon to write much now.  But I need to let some words out because I am bursting with memories.


I first saw him onstage playing. And so did you, if you were lucky.  He made love to her, with rope, and cuffs and a whip. He treated her like she was a jewel, then he adorned her with his marks. The things he did made my whole body heave with waves of pleasure.  Then he turned to me, looked in my eyes, licked his lips and smiled slowly.


I was so turned on by it all from as long back as I could remember and I was starting to play on a new level. But I had never seen play like that.  Not on top.  Not on bottom.  And I wanted to do both.


Later he told me I stood out in the crowd, he could see how excited I was, flushed and breathing heavy, through that huge crowd, that I was on the verge of orgasm, just from watching and he wanted me.


Soon after he began to work at the same dungeon that I did. Sabrina introduced us as we all smoked on the roof. 


He was sweet to me.  And pretty soon he was my boyfriend.


He invited me to play in his show in the infamous backroom of Sin-A-Matic where we all just came with a vague plan, huddled into the tiny hallway and waited for him to point at each of us, saying “you’re up next”, and then we stepped up that tiny step and just played.  It was real playing, up close, and it was hot. 


Always to a full room.  Always with a line that could never all get in.  Unless you knew the new password. 

 


Honey, 


You taught me so much and so well.


You were so many things to so many  people.


But most of all you were


Truly


A


Real


Man.


Love Always,

Honey


   May He Rest In Peace

We had so much fun up there.  Learning and creating as we flowed with it.  One night, Entropy showed up and started twirling two floggers, nobody had ever seen that before. Now they call it Florentine flogging and I even heard someone teaching a form of it say it came from ancient Florence. HA. It was invented in the fucking backroom!  Sometimes others would join us. Lifestyle. Pro. We all just loved to play.  It was thrilling. Every. Damn. Time.


But nothing, nothing, nothing was like Aryn throwing a whip.  To see it, was a lesson in what SM is really about. The flow of energy between people. One giving...one taking...and giving back more.  Electricity. Exchange. Respect. Connection.  Sex. 


And if you were kissed by his whip. Ahhhh. He flogged me, while I was naked on all fours, leather caressing me, then it felt like a massage, then a pounding massage, then the tips were scratching my skin, hurting, hurting, hurting, until....I was flying...hungry for each strike that felt like an orgasm across my back.  The Pleasure.  The High.  He taught me how to give that.  How to make someone’s eyes glaze over, face slack in bliss, joy radiating back at me.  And how to hold them, talk to them, bring them back to earth safely.


He broke me with hot wax. Dripping it. On the same spot. For. So. Long. I didn’t think I could take it anymore until I slipped beyond and drifted away.


He used to practice his single tail by flicking the light switch on and off. On and off. 


I heard the crack of it breaking the sound barrier before it hit me.  It was unbearably painful. Then instantly gone.  You can’t even remember that much pain and it leaves so fast that each time it is like the first.


And I know he is OK with me telling you that we switched.  Because...  I got up there on the stage one night and I said flog me. He looked at me me sideways and said you sure you want to do that? I nodded. I didn’t care if I was a “Pro” with an “Image”. Fuck that.  If people can’t handle that I can both top and bottom then FUCK THEM.  So he did. But then when he was done he dropped to floor and worshipped my boots.  We got off the stage and laughed so hard.


Like we did last time we were hanging out.  We laughed about the guys who think that women are all born submissive.  We laughed about old times and new times we just had 5 mintues ago.  We always laughed so much together.


He was hurt when I broke up with him, but you know what? He was still always sweet to me. And we stayed friends for 20 years.  We supported each other and we always met with a smile, and a hug, kind and loving.  We still called each other Honey.  Until the end.


When I got sick last year I made him promise that if I got well, he would do an event with me.  Get all of us back together onstage one more time.  We were planning it.  I even got permission to use the name Sin-A-Matic Backroom Reunion.  He was adamant though that I had to get everyone to do it or he wouldn’t do it.  I was really determined to make that happen.  It was in the works.


Aryn was a teacher.  He shared what he knew.  He was a feminist. He respected women and their right to do what they wanted with their bodies especially to say no.  He was a great friend.  He was a Daddy to so so so many who called him that. He took care of people.  He took care of his mother (who was not such a great mother by the way) until she died. He took care of people maybe too much.  He didn’t always take care of himself as well.


He was tired a lot lately of taking care of others.  He really wanted to focus on himself.   So when he said he couldn’t come to my party because he was in the hospital with pneumonia, that made sense.  A few days later he found out it was lung cancer.  And when I tried to visit he told me - “No Honey, not now”.  Then I got really sick and in a few days....he was gone.  So I didn’t get to be there or say goodbye.  But I did get to say to him one last time - I love you. And hear, I love you too.


The world has lost a Master. A Man. Who knew how to play with the darkness and light and how to make you feel wonderful for bravely giving yourself, who knew how to transform pain to pleasure, how to give you your darkest desires and then cook a lunch to take with you to college in the morning, pack it up and drive you there, then wish you a good day with a kiss. Who knew how to page you everyday with sweet message. (yeah pagers google it)


And how to make a whole room fly.