How can I fully describe Subversion's Love at first bite event? So many feelings, sensations, emotions that I never felt at Killing Kittens or Decadence...it marked my first real submissive experience and one I will never forget. I attended the event with Malachi, my very good friend and play partner. I believe having someone there with me to have fun with made such a difference in the enjoyment of the club. Not that I didn't have fun being paddled by professionals at Decadence or enjoyed the company of some stunning latex and lingerie-clad women at both events, but theirs nothing like relinquishing total control to a person you completely trust.
Although a series of small disasters, including but not limited to having my handbag somehow laced into my corset, resulted in us arriving two hours late, we had no problem entering the club, as we later learned that some guests, especially gorgeously femmed up transgenders who put most natural women to shame, wouldn't show until up to 3, as their outfits required much more preparation than your standard latex ensemble.
And after being relaced by a lovely sir in assless leather chaps, I was ready to hit the Dungeon, but not before Malachi bought me my first real collar. Besides having a lead, it fit me perfectly, which chokers never have in the past. Feeling the tightness of it against my neck was thrilling, and it was wonderful to use in the photographs we had taken, some of which I was joined by a stunning Italian dominatrix, who with her dark lipstick and black net across her face reminded me of Sandra, Guido's alluring and mysterious mistress in 8 1/2.
Still buzzing from the Italians embrace and seductive lens of the camera, we make our way over to some recently freed equipment located in the middle of the room a short distance away. Dropping my bag, my hands are enchained above my head and I'm suspended, unable to move my wrists in either direction. As Malachi began whipping me, softly at first and then harder and faster, I become less aware of the people watching all around us and drift into subspace, which I can only describe as being a feeling like floating, feeling all sensations but as if your mind is detached from your body. The whip felt good at times, harsh at others, bringing tears to my eyes but at the same time I wanted the sensation to continue, craved the pain of the rubber against my bare back and shoulders as much as the pleasure of being stroked with a silken glove. I was completely relaxed, even as the rubber whip was switched to one of leather and later on, a paddle. The feeling was different with each piece of new equipment but that sensation of being separated from reality was the same, and as Malachi pulled my wrists free of their restraints, gently asking if I was feeling dizzy or would like a drink, I didn't want him to stop. But the rush to my head as I stepped off of the podium said otherwise, and I agreed, feeling light headed, exhilarated. I felt like for the first time, I understood what it was like to be truly submissive, willfully handing over complete control to another, and loving every second of it.
Nothing beat those moments on the podium, but the rest of the night definitely came pretty close. The whole atmosphere at the club was open and friendly, and relaxing with a drink, I got to talking with the lovely leader of a certain popular online fetish forum, and was thrilled when she recognized me. I also compared welts and lashings with a sexy Canadian who told me the success of a night can be (rightly) measured by the injuries sustained. We later had a wild thrashing on the dance floor, at which at certain points I found myself flung onto the ground itself.
All in all, the night was a success, and as I was putting some more dungeon equipment to good use, we were startled by the announcement that it was 5:00 and the downstairs portion of the club was closing, everyone had to leave or else wait in the room upstairs which stayed open for another hour for those in need of a hot drink and a warm place to wait till the opening of the 6:00 tube. Since we were having way to much fun to go just yet, we opted for the latter open, and that's how I found myself, at half 5 AM, drinking tea and discussing the history and origins of Communism and rise of Socialist society with Malachi in a cushion-lined cage (that I had been handcuffed too a mere few hours earlier), all the while being the recipient of an enthusiastic foot massage by a man who later on announced he was moving to Asia the following week to check out the Japanese BD/SM scene. A perfect end to an unforgettable night.
Although a series of small disasters, including but not limited to having my handbag somehow laced into my corset, resulted in us arriving two hours late, we had no problem entering the club, as we later learned that some guests, especially gorgeously femmed up transgenders who put most natural women to shame, wouldn't show until up to 3, as their outfits required much more preparation than your standard latex ensemble.
And after being relaced by a lovely sir in assless leather chaps, I was ready to hit the Dungeon, but not before Malachi bought me my first real collar. Besides having a lead, it fit me perfectly, which chokers never have in the past. Feeling the tightness of it against my neck was thrilling, and it was wonderful to use in the photographs we had taken, some of which I was joined by a stunning Italian dominatrix, who with her dark lipstick and black net across her face reminded me of Sandra, Guido's alluring and mysterious mistress in 8 1/2.
Still buzzing from the Italians embrace and seductive lens of the camera, we make our way over to some recently freed equipment located in the middle of the room a short distance away. Dropping my bag, my hands are enchained above my head and I'm suspended, unable to move my wrists in either direction. As Malachi began whipping me, softly at first and then harder and faster, I become less aware of the people watching all around us and drift into subspace, which I can only describe as being a feeling like floating, feeling all sensations but as if your mind is detached from your body. The whip felt good at times, harsh at others, bringing tears to my eyes but at the same time I wanted the sensation to continue, craved the pain of the rubber against my bare back and shoulders as much as the pleasure of being stroked with a silken glove. I was completely relaxed, even as the rubber whip was switched to one of leather and later on, a paddle. The feeling was different with each piece of new equipment but that sensation of being separated from reality was the same, and as Malachi pulled my wrists free of their restraints, gently asking if I was feeling dizzy or would like a drink, I didn't want him to stop. But the rush to my head as I stepped off of the podium said otherwise, and I agreed, feeling light headed, exhilarated. I felt like for the first time, I understood what it was like to be truly submissive, willfully handing over complete control to another, and loving every second of it.
Nothing beat those moments on the podium, but the rest of the night definitely came pretty close. The whole atmosphere at the club was open and friendly, and relaxing with a drink, I got to talking with the lovely leader of a certain popular online fetish forum, and was thrilled when she recognized me. I also compared welts and lashings with a sexy Canadian who told me the success of a night can be (rightly) measured by the injuries sustained. We later had a wild thrashing on the dance floor, at which at certain points I found myself flung onto the ground itself.
All in all, the night was a success, and as I was putting some more dungeon equipment to good use, we were startled by the announcement that it was 5:00 and the downstairs portion of the club was closing, everyone had to leave or else wait in the room upstairs which stayed open for another hour for those in need of a hot drink and a warm place to wait till the opening of the 6:00 tube. Since we were having way to much fun to go just yet, we opted for the latter open, and that's how I found myself, at half 5 AM, drinking tea and discussing the history and origins of Communism and rise of Socialist society with Malachi in a cushion-lined cage (that I had been handcuffed too a mere few hours earlier), all the while being the recipient of an enthusiastic foot massage by a man who later on announced he was moving to Asia the following week to check out the Japanese BD/SM scene. A perfect end to an unforgettable night.
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