Just as I had a lot of mixed feelings going to my first fetish event, I hesitated writing about it, too. It’s not that it didn’t go well at the club, but the night did end with an argument between Boy Toy and I. Probably one of the worse we’ve had, and probably one of the most useless, too. But don’t worry, this was months ago and it’s long forgotten. And now that I’ve got the awkward part out of the way, I might as well tell you the rest of my story.

A few of our friends go to fetish nights almost every weekend. Boy Toy had been to many, many such events, just not since he was with me. On top of that, I guess we see our kink as something private. It IS sex, after all…

Still, I let my friends convince me into accompanying them. I was curious and I thought Boy Toy would like this. I figured I had to go at least once!

I was nervous. I didn’t know what kind of things would happen there, what kind of people I’d meet, how the evening would transpire… I felt pretty insecure. This is, in part, why Boy Toy and I fought, later. I needed him by my side, a dutiful submissive. But he wasn’t feeling like himself, had just quit his job, lots of changes going on and so he wasn’t there for me the way I expected him to be. On top of that, because I was nervous, I drank too much and well there you go, you have an explosive mix.

That aside, it was a very interesting experience. I do know people that aren’t necessarily in our circle of close friends and who, it turns out, were there. Now, the part I’m about to tell is another reason I hesitated to write this post: I was afraid the guy in question would stumble upon my blog and recognize himself in my story. Well. I guess it’s just a risk I’ll have to take. K, if you ever read this, just pretend you never did, okay?

So, we walk into the club and what do you know, the first person we run into is this guy I know, K. He was surprised to see me there, said something along the lines of “I didn’t know you were into this kind of thing”. Ah, well, here I am.

K was wearing a straitjacket. A real one: his arms were tied behind his back and he couldn’t use his hands at all. I laughed at his predicament and asked him how the hell he managed to get his drinks wearing this, to which he replied that he had others do it for him. “Great!” I thought. Without hesitation, I fished around in his pants’ pockets, found some money and walked to the bar. I bought myself a shooter and a drink for him (of his choosing), with a straw. And for the next half hour, he was like my little puppy dog, following me around because I had his drink (he couldn’t hold it). Every once in a while I’d give him a sip.

I’m not even sure how this even happened. It seems funny to me that I stepped right into this dominant role, as if it was totally natural for me. Which it isn’t, not really. Or maybe it is. I don’t really know for sure. All I know is that it felt fun and daring and sexy, and Boy Toy was quite impressed when I went up to him with my (temporary) boy in tow and told him I had a slave.

It was quite an evening, really. Another of our friends was wearing this dog collar and I had his leash in my purse. I was responsible for it. Not that I’d be using it, but I would be choosing who I gave it to. I gave it to this girl I know, and it was kind of hot.

There was also a show of sorts going on. A guy doing some very kinky things to this girl on stage. It was fascinating. In a way, I felt strange standing there, observing something so intimate and sexual. The girl was blindfolded and one could tell she was totally, completely in sub-space. Her reactions were amazing to watch. I won’t go into more details than that because, well, anonymity, you know. But, wow.

Then later on, I was talking to K again and he mentioned flogging. When I said I had never seen this done, he had me follow him to some other section of the club (which was really big and in which I kinda got lost, after). He had some guy he knew tie him up to some sort of contraption, and flog him.

This is when things got a little too fuzzy for me, I tried to go back to Boy Toy and couldn’t find him and I got angry at him, so we cut the night short and went home. 

Now it’s months later, and writing about it makes me realize that we should do it again, sometime, and communicate better first about what I expect and how he thinks he’ll feel. That night, he was in his own little thoughtful universe, and I, unfortunately, failed to see it because I was in my own little nervous universe.