Page 102 of Wrestling with Daddy

It was everything, but let me start from the beginning.

Over the last decade, The Mountain Lake Resort, situated by South Lake Tahoe and run by Lee Petrovsky, has held an event called Pet Play by the Lake, with all proceeds going to the LGBTQ Advocacy group and other charities and shelters. It’s basically a weekend—or a month, if you want to join their training program, but my job didn’t want to pay for that. Blame them, not me—of handlers and human pets frolicking around and having fun and contests and…

You guessed it.

Much more than that.

To be honest, I’d never been before. Sure, I’m kinky as fuck, and this is the most personal post I’ve ever had to write, but I had never considered attending. Months prior, though, I’d started to try out puppy play—spent a whole lot of money on a pretty muzzle and matching gear, connected with pups and handlers online… The works.

I’ll be writing more articles on all of that, but what matters here is… This was my first time meeting others like me in person.

It was overwhelming, I’m not going to lie.

I did a lot of that there, and it wasn’t good, even if it worked out because, hey, I’m here and… oh, yeah, I have a Daddy.

And I won a contest, so not everyone hated me!

Ugh.

Writing personal stuff is not my strong suite. Please, make this go viral so my boss doesn’t fire me for all this gibberish, people. You’re my only chance.

So.

Where do I start?

I arrived at the resort on Monday. Technically the big event started on Friday, with early registration on Thursday, but there were already a bunch of kinksters around. (Remember, there was that pet training month my company didn’t let me attend.)

I think I kind of cheated because I already knew Daddy, but that’s a whole different story, and I’m not here to just talk about my personal life.

No, I’m here to talk about community.

The community I found at the resort, where everyone just… welcomed me. But here’s the thing. I’m part of kink communities—well, one, but I’ve tried out a few others, too—and those are great and you’re usually going to get that sense of acceptance and belonging.

But… a community where they all share your same kink? Where they’re all there for the same reasons as you are, and there’s virtually nothing you can say that they’ll judge you for?

On Friday, I literally ran out on them because I had a major freakout about playing in public—aka the outside of the resort where they usually hold weddings and no one could see except for the people already there. Then that very same evening, I went to the welcome party and no one batted an eye. No one looked at me weird. If anything, they checked in on me. They… understood.

On Saturday, I played in public for the first time. I put on all my expensive gear, gave myself a very thorough pep talk, and I joined a group of pups and dragons and asloth—and if you think that one’s unusual, wait until I tell you there was adovein there, too. It was… perfect.

On Sunday there was a pet adoption. From what I could gather—I may not have been at the top of my game the whole time, okay?—the pet adoption, along with the entries, is where they collect the majority of the money for the charities. Basically, handlers start bidding to pretty much adopt a (human) pet—to wine and dine them or whatever else. I promise it’s wholesome.

That’s what Daddy said, at least. Pets go in pens with cute beds and toys and the Doms place their bids.

I was rather busy figuring out what routine I could do because I was definitely not warned that I was participating in the Best in Show contest.

So, after the pet adoption, there was a contest. Yes, the kind where people go on stage and perform a routine or whatever.

It happened.

I… I never felt more free, more true to myself.

And did I mention that I won?

I. WON.

…

So yeah. Here’s a bunch of sneaky pictures I took because I was told I couldn’t just keep gushing about everything eternally.