Thursday, October 06, 2005
Fit To Be Tied (Pt.1)
The Citadel is a fairly new dungeon space in San Francisco (opened Dec 2003), which has sucked away a good deal of business from the other facility in town, the Power Exchange. My partner and I attended a "queer play party" there recently. This after going to several other sex parties around town, many of them with a lot of hetero action going on. This night was different in that everyone in attendance was/looked pretty damn queer. Coed too, probably with a few more women than men. But queer. Hetero guys could fit in here, if they are into diversity. That quality we liked about the place. And I especially liked that I was starting to see - in this crowd of all places - the sorts of women I find attractive, namely lean and fitter types. Perhaps the BDSM "scene" promotes more of this type of look.
Unfortunately, the place was just too weird. And in the end, just too asexual for sluts like D and I.
Let me tell you about this scene. It's not really about sex at all. That was probably our first and biggest discovery of the evening, much to our mutual disappointment. People come here it seems to stage their respective "scenes," their floggings, spankings, whatever. But only one couple was having sex, a dyke couple where the butch was fucking her partner in a leather swing. I guess it could pass for sex, even though there's a toy involved, not a real penis. Nonetheless I found myself watching them rather lustfully, imagining myself as the bottom. I have always wanted to get schtupped by another woman with a strap-on, in public, yes, thank you. Definitely atop my "to do" list. Afterwards I would want to switch and be the top. These two women were going at it early in the evening, and about forty five minutes later when I checked back they were still at it.
Hence the term given to this night as a "play party" (sounds nicer I suppose than calling it a sex party). Play there was, in ample amounts, but that's all it was. Just play. Didn't even serve as foreplay. Doesn't play go somewhere, we wondered. From point A to B. But here at the Citadel, we start at point A and pretty much stay there. Nothing but play, unfortunately.
And quite in view of the paying public, as it were. People were watching if they weren't playing at their scenes. But this crowd did not seem interested in having sex. So if you are looking for a sex party per se at one of these dungeon events, you may want to really investigate what you're getting into. It may turn out to disappoint you as much as it did us.
Some of the types here were really something. Out of Charles Dickens by way of de Sade. Quaintness predominates. A large florid man, who certainly looked the part of a Scotsman, was running around in a traditional kilt and cap. I was holding my breath about the bagpipes. They did not appear out from under his drapery. I would have personally flogged him if he had started up with the music.
D was vastly amused by the guy, and made fun of him later to several friends, in his best Scottish accent.
"Do you wont to have a good wrestle?" he would ask people. That was the height of Negotiation Conversations for us that night. You know, the ones where people give up their kinks to their partners for the night, you tell me yours, I tell you my kink, you talk things over, who wants what. You find out how you get into it. Then you find out how you get out of it, if you choose to. You agree on your code words, the ones you use to warn your partner when things are getting, well, heavy, and could you stop now, pretty please?
But wrestling? Well, maybe it slides into the equation here somewhere.
But sex? You would be happier at another party, perhaps.
Having ranted on the place for a while here, let me say that, personally, I found it more hospitable appearing than the Power Exchange, which is like a setting out of the new Batman movie. Dark, industrial, chilly, both figuratively and literally. At least the Citadel has a pleasant, cocoon-like rosy hue going for it.
Next time, let me take you on a tour....
- - - - - -
Unfortunately, the place was just too weird. And in the end, just too asexual for sluts like D and I.
Let me tell you about this scene. It's not really about sex at all. That was probably our first and biggest discovery of the evening, much to our mutual disappointment. People come here it seems to stage their respective "scenes," their floggings, spankings, whatever. But only one couple was having sex, a dyke couple where the butch was fucking her partner in a leather swing. I guess it could pass for sex, even though there's a toy involved, not a real penis. Nonetheless I found myself watching them rather lustfully, imagining myself as the bottom. I have always wanted to get schtupped by another woman with a strap-on, in public, yes, thank you. Definitely atop my "to do" list. Afterwards I would want to switch and be the top. These two women were going at it early in the evening, and about forty five minutes later when I checked back they were still at it.
Hence the term given to this night as a "play party" (sounds nicer I suppose than calling it a sex party). Play there was, in ample amounts, but that's all it was. Just play. Didn't even serve as foreplay. Doesn't play go somewhere, we wondered. From point A to B. But here at the Citadel, we start at point A and pretty much stay there. Nothing but play, unfortunately.
And quite in view of the paying public, as it were. People were watching if they weren't playing at their scenes. But this crowd did not seem interested in having sex. So if you are looking for a sex party per se at one of these dungeon events, you may want to really investigate what you're getting into. It may turn out to disappoint you as much as it did us.
Some of the types here were really something. Out of Charles Dickens by way of de Sade. Quaintness predominates. A large florid man, who certainly looked the part of a Scotsman, was running around in a traditional kilt and cap. I was holding my breath about the bagpipes. They did not appear out from under his drapery. I would have personally flogged him if he had started up with the music.
D was vastly amused by the guy, and made fun of him later to several friends, in his best Scottish accent.
"Do you wont to have a good wrestle?" he would ask people. That was the height of Negotiation Conversations for us that night. You know, the ones where people give up their kinks to their partners for the night, you tell me yours, I tell you my kink, you talk things over, who wants what. You find out how you get into it. Then you find out how you get out of it, if you choose to. You agree on your code words, the ones you use to warn your partner when things are getting, well, heavy, and could you stop now, pretty please?
But wrestling? Well, maybe it slides into the equation here somewhere.
But sex? You would be happier at another party, perhaps.
Having ranted on the place for a while here, let me say that, personally, I found it more hospitable appearing than the Power Exchange, which is like a setting out of the new Batman movie. Dark, industrial, chilly, both figuratively and literally. At least the Citadel has a pleasant, cocoon-like rosy hue going for it.
Next time, let me take you on a tour....
- - - - - -
