Play party fun
This weekend was fun all round, and I'm sure ruine_ will fill in some other bits. However, one time I found particularly amusing was a play party we attended. Names and facts are changed to protect the guilty (and make it more amusing to tell)..
We headed out into the dark wildlands of rural suburban commuter town, to a boxy-looking house in the middle of a long line of other boxy-looking houses. It all looked so innocent from the outside, or would have done had two leather-clad men not been carrying something that looked the vaulting horse from "The Great Escape" inside.
Inside, downstairs was usual party-fare - a living room with people sitting around talking about things they read in the papers recently, and a kitchen laid out with booze and party-nibbles. Upstairs, of course, had been turned into decadent play-land, with impressive pieces of dungeon furniture in each room. All empty until people got suitably drunk, of course.
The people were a predictable mix - almost exclusively male-dom/fem-sub couples. Ok, there was one switchy couple, but the female was extremely cute and wearing a tight rubber dress, so I'm sure the host didn't mind too much, given his instance that "gazing admiring at women's naked bodies is not leering" later in the evening.
Conversation was rather like any more vanilla party, really, until one chaps-wearing, pointedly straight (he mentioned it at least four times), "gentleman" began discussing loudly whether he could manage to get various items from around the room up his arse. He was optimistically eyeing an extremely large candle, when someone changed the subject to the very drunk girl who had been thrown out of a fetish club the night before. Mr "I can get anything up my arse" (we'll just call him Mr. Arse from now on), said "Oh, I know all about that", and began to tell his version of the story.
Apparently, said drunken female had lured him into the ladies toilets, and thinking he might get her to stick something large up his arse, he'd followed. But he quickly realised that she was excessively drunk, and somewhat of a thief, given that she still had in her possession a pile of jackets she'd removed from the pub next door. So, of course, he escaped her clutches, and reported her to club security, who threw her out.. But, in his own words, "I shagged her first, of course".
ruine_ and I escaped to the kitchen and better conversation, only to find cute "girl in a rubber dress" making cocktails. She offered to make me a White Russian, and gave me a taste of hers. It tasted suspiciously like milk. Just milk. I asked her what was in it.. "Oh, vodka and milk", she said, "I could't find any of the other ingredients".
I'll spare you the other conversations, dear audience, most of them were so shallow as to make me wish my brain would melt and pour out of my ears like the pan of wax bubbling away on the kitchen stove unattended.
Later on, though, one of the couples proudly brought out an antique French violet wand they'd bought on Ebay two days previously for $60. I expressed some concerns about safety of antique violet wands that hadn't been checked out by a competant engineer, but was assured by fem-sub part of the couple that "My partner is an engineer, and I fully trust him that it's safe". Knowing better than to tell a feisty fem-sub that her Dom wouldn't know an electrical safety check from an oil change, I just hung back and watched.
A small demo followed. The Domly engineer plugged it into an RCD for safety, then demoed it on himself, then let others feel it. ruine_ had a wee taste, before my nose picked up the smell of burning insulation, and pulled her away. "No more cheap nasty Ebay violet wand play for you, ruine_", I said.. besides, even after several glasses of yummy ginger wine, my engineer-sense was tingling. Something was not right. It felt unsafe.
Luckily, ruine_ was quite keen to avoid the wand now, as it was currently being rubbed up and down Mr. Arse's knob. Funnily enough, no-one wanted to touch it after that.
It wasn't till it had been packed away, that I figured why my Spidey-Sense was tingling. It was a French violet wand. It was plugged into the RCD adaptor via a 3 pin plug, but where it connected to the control box for the wand, it connected with 2 pins. The earth pin wasn't connected. RCD's do nothing for safety of an unearthed appliance. But of course, Domly engineer knew better. You can't get an electric shock from something plugged into an RCD, of course!
You know, I'm being unfair though. I'm presenting this as a party with no positives in it whatsoever, and that's not the case. I met someone I haven't seen in ages, had quite a few good conversations later in the evening, got to see a cupping set in use up close for the first time ever, and eventually found a quiet corner to play with ruine_ where everyone respected the invisible walls I put up to give us some privacy.. apart from Mr. Arse, who needed a stern look before he ran away with his tail between his legs.
I'd love to find a party where we could hang out with people for whom D/s is the key thing, who have lifestyle relationships, and don't just see SM as something fun to do at clubs and parties. I think we'd fit in better there. Or maybe we're just elitist snobs.
We headed out into the dark wildlands of rural suburban commuter town, to a boxy-looking house in the middle of a long line of other boxy-looking houses. It all looked so innocent from the outside, or would have done had two leather-clad men not been carrying something that looked the vaulting horse from "The Great Escape" inside.
Inside, downstairs was usual party-fare - a living room with people sitting around talking about things they read in the papers recently, and a kitchen laid out with booze and party-nibbles. Upstairs, of course, had been turned into decadent play-land, with impressive pieces of dungeon furniture in each room. All empty until people got suitably drunk, of course.
The people were a predictable mix - almost exclusively male-dom/fem-sub couples. Ok, there was one switchy couple, but the female was extremely cute and wearing a tight rubber dress, so I'm sure the host didn't mind too much, given his instance that "gazing admiring at women's naked bodies is not leering" later in the evening.
Conversation was rather like any more vanilla party, really, until one chaps-wearing, pointedly straight (he mentioned it at least four times), "gentleman" began discussing loudly whether he could manage to get various items from around the room up his arse. He was optimistically eyeing an extremely large candle, when someone changed the subject to the very drunk girl who had been thrown out of a fetish club the night before. Mr "I can get anything up my arse" (we'll just call him Mr. Arse from now on), said "Oh, I know all about that", and began to tell his version of the story.
Apparently, said drunken female had lured him into the ladies toilets, and thinking he might get her to stick something large up his arse, he'd followed. But he quickly realised that she was excessively drunk, and somewhat of a thief, given that she still had in her possession a pile of jackets she'd removed from the pub next door. So, of course, he escaped her clutches, and reported her to club security, who threw her out.. But, in his own words, "I shagged her first, of course".
ruine_ and I escaped to the kitchen and better conversation, only to find cute "girl in a rubber dress" making cocktails. She offered to make me a White Russian, and gave me a taste of hers. It tasted suspiciously like milk. Just milk. I asked her what was in it.. "Oh, vodka and milk", she said, "I could't find any of the other ingredients".
I'll spare you the other conversations, dear audience, most of them were so shallow as to make me wish my brain would melt and pour out of my ears like the pan of wax bubbling away on the kitchen stove unattended.
Later on, though, one of the couples proudly brought out an antique French violet wand they'd bought on Ebay two days previously for $60. I expressed some concerns about safety of antique violet wands that hadn't been checked out by a competant engineer, but was assured by fem-sub part of the couple that "My partner is an engineer, and I fully trust him that it's safe". Knowing better than to tell a feisty fem-sub that her Dom wouldn't know an electrical safety check from an oil change, I just hung back and watched.
A small demo followed. The Domly engineer plugged it into an RCD for safety, then demoed it on himself, then let others feel it. ruine_ had a wee taste, before my nose picked up the smell of burning insulation, and pulled her away. "No more cheap nasty Ebay violet wand play for you, ruine_", I said.. besides, even after several glasses of yummy ginger wine, my engineer-sense was tingling. Something was not right. It felt unsafe.
Luckily, ruine_ was quite keen to avoid the wand now, as it was currently being rubbed up and down Mr. Arse's knob. Funnily enough, no-one wanted to touch it after that.
It wasn't till it had been packed away, that I figured why my Spidey-Sense was tingling. It was a French violet wand. It was plugged into the RCD adaptor via a 3 pin plug, but where it connected to the control box for the wand, it connected with 2 pins. The earth pin wasn't connected. RCD's do nothing for safety of an unearthed appliance. But of course, Domly engineer knew better. You can't get an electric shock from something plugged into an RCD, of course!
You know, I'm being unfair though. I'm presenting this as a party with no positives in it whatsoever, and that's not the case. I met someone I haven't seen in ages, had quite a few good conversations later in the evening, got to see a cupping set in use up close for the first time ever, and eventually found a quiet corner to play with ruine_ where everyone respected the invisible walls I put up to give us some privacy.. apart from Mr. Arse, who needed a stern look before he ran away with his tail between his legs.
I'd love to find a party where we could hang out with people for whom D/s is the key thing, who have lifestyle relationships, and don't just see SM as something fun to do at clubs and parties. I think we'd fit in better there. Or maybe we're just elitist snobs.