- Sex & Drugs
- 18 Mar 04
The things I do for you! On Sunday, February 15, I strapped myself into a PVC corset, fishnets and high, high heels and headed for the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre Ball at the Sugar Club. This was an S&M and fetish party that my friend Lucinda was keen to attend and she dragged me along. Off I went, for ‘research purposes’, you understand.
The party itself was a little strange. I was hoping for something really juicy, but instead of live S&M shows, we had live bands. It was a cold night, so maybe all the kinky exhibitionists were at home in their dungeons, cuddling up with mugs of hot chocolate. However, all was not lost. Perhaps it was the corset, but as the evening progressed I began attracting dominating types like flies to honey.
“Meet me at the toilets now, slave.” I turned around to find a dark, handsome stranger behind me. He wasted no time on idle chat. He told me his name was Michael and that he was going to instruct me in the pleasures of pain. “I’ll make you feel things you don’t realise are possible,” he promised.
I was contemplating Michael’s offer, when all of a sudden I felt a hand seize my ass. Not content with merely grabbing my fair posterior, this over-friendly stranger tried to shove his finger through my skirt. Now, I am generally unflappable, but this is not the kind of thing you expect out of the blue.
I turned around and he tried to kiss me. I use the term kiss loosely though, because what he did was bite my chin. As I recovered my composure, he bit my ear and whispered, “What turns you on?” My evil streak kicked in and I replied that I’d like to tie him down and piss on his face. Girls out on the pull should note that this is not the best line to use. He scurried off.
To many people fetishism, sadomasochism, bondage, domination and submission are the dark side of sexuality. I have a friend who supported herself through college as a dungeon mistress. In a nutshell, she whipped the shit out of men to the tune of €200 an hour.
MEET CHRIS, THE FOOT FETISHIST
For the most part, her clients were rich businessmen. Most submissives tend to be controlling, hardworking and intelligent. Being dominated gives them a chance to let go for a while, as sadomasochism involves an unbalanced power relationship. The essential ingredient is the idea that the dominatrix appears to have complete control.
This situation is difficult to recreate in a relationship. When two consenting adults both agree to try something, how much real power does the submissive give away? None. It’s the masochist or the submissive that’s in control. They decide how much pain or humiliation they want and the other person cheerfully complies.
For many people, S&M is just another aspect of their sexual repertoire. Like different positions or chocolate body paint. For me at least, the real excitement is the dressing up, role-playing and the knowledge that you are being a bit naughty. And while there’s nothing wrong with that, it’s hardly extreme.
I may just have the wrong personality for S&M though. So I thought I’d do some snooping on Sunday night. As this was a fetish party, I had the perfect excuse to be nosey about other people’s bedroom antics. I met a lovely couple that were really into submission and domination. However, they took turns being in charge.
Another couple told me that the main buzz for them was recreating scenes from erotic books. They’d been married for over ten years and loved each other very much, thank you. A third couple, Wayne and Orla, had been involved in the S&M scene for about five years and had a number of like-minded friends. They were into attending parties where Wayne could humiliate Orla publicly. Sinead told me that severe pain made her orgasm, and the smell of leather got James horny as hell.
Chris was a foot fetishist. He salivated over Lucinda’s kick-ass, knee-high red leather boots. He ran his hand devotedly along the length of them and shuddered in ecstasy. For the fetishist, it is the desired object, not the person wearing it that is the turn-on. I met Tracey in the toilets. She informed me that her boyfriend couldn’t get a hard-on unless she was wearing satin panties. She was getting mighty pissed off at the whole situation. I don’t blame her. We all want to feel that we are the biggest turn-on to our partners.
Research done, I headed for the dance floor where I ran into Michael again. Still keen to dominate me, he suggested the toilets again. My boyfriend, Conor, may be a total pervert, but he’s fairly normal where cheating is concerned. I decided discretion was the better part of valour and declined. After all, dancing in high heels had given me all the pain I wanted for one evening.