After the "boxing match" Sir put me up on the easel. Now i should explain about this easel.... unlike any cross i have been on.. or for that matter any other large piece of equipment, the easel requires that one step up on to it - a good foot, foot and half.
Sir started with a flogger, moved on to the crop and then the cane. i was finding it extremely difficult to get a handle on the pain.. there was so much else going on around me. There was a woman absolutely howling and screeching right next to me; there was the male submissive from the afternoon gasping and stamping his foot; there was another male submissive who had been decorated in clothes pegs for a good 45 minutes yelping and shouting as they were being removed (i remember him yelling with great anguish at one point..... i want to be able to use THAT again!! - i assumed he meant his cock). And the air conditioner was going full blast and blowing down my back. It really did seem at one point or another just a bit too much for me to cope with. Then there were the odd flicks of the whip that went so very wrong, catching me in my "no fly zone". Sir worked out what the problem was.. it was my being elevated a good foot / foot and half higher than we were used to. Tears streamed down my face and i felt like such a wimp. When i finally did catch the rhythm and the pain morphed to pleasure, the little twinkling lights running around the ceiling looked for all the world like fairies dancing around the edges. However, this momentary bliss was quickly replaced by shivering and shaking. My body was racked by the shivers. Sir took me down and wrapped me in my long velvet cape rubbing my body to warm me up. The air conditioning finally won the battle..... and i capitulated.
The weirdness of the evening didn't end there though...... (and perhaps weirdness is the wrong word). i had a young - wet behind the ears - male submissive approach me and tell me how much he admired my hands......... i will admit to being a little taken back..... but i handled the first interchange between him and myself with my usual diplomacy. But then he went on to talk about my nails, how long they were, what a pretty colour they were, and i realized i was getting way out of my depth. i was still somewhere between reality and fairy land and was having great trouble getting my mind wrapped around someone who obviously had some sort of hand/nail fetish. My solution?? dash for the outdoors and have a smoke.
i bounced down the stairs and out the front door, wrapped up in my long velvet cape (in case in the telling of this story anyone assumes i was exposing myself to the vanilla world). i had just lit my cigarette and had had a puff when i was aware of a car parked diagonally across the parking lot with a "gentleman of colour" (is that the politically correct term these days?? ) standing leaning against the car looking at me. He called to me and asked how much to get into the club. Again diplomacy ruled the day, and i answered "i was sorry but it was a private club". At this point the other car door opened and the first 'gentleman' was joined by another... (and trust me when i say i use the term gentleman very loosely!!) The second one went on to say that he could whip a woman as good as anyone so they should be let in. i shut up , and backed up closer to the now locked door of the club...thinking i could ring the bell and bring the bouncer out, but for some reason didn't.
A young woman joined the men. She asked me how much they (indicating the club) would pay her to let them whip her. Now another gentlemen appeared from the street and joined the group. They continued bantering back and forth about whippings and costs.. and i was standing there for all the world like a deaf mute. They must have grown bored with my lack of conversation skills, and soon all but the one gentleman who had walked into the parking lot had piled back into the car and turned their car into the street. The one gentleman followed them on foot. At that point i rang the bell and gained entrance back into the club where i reported the incident.
In all the years i have been attending public play parties, this has to have been the weirdest experience ever.......... from being a punching bag, to freezing from the AC.. to hand/nail fetishes...... to rude threatening individuals .......... What a weekend for the memory book !!!!!
now for those of you who keep track........ yes today is the 1st of the month......... and yes there is a new installment of the house boy series on The Fictional Journal - link to the right...