Saturday, July 31, 2004
wednesday night i was enticed into going to a goth club. not my usual type of venue so it took a little persuading to get me to go, i suffer from an acute case of club dread these days but after some feet dragging it was on. i was accompanied by The Librarian, and he and i always have a good time when we hang out, so that was a check in the plus column right off the bat. the space itself was very nice, 2 open floors not decorated in any way that might induce nausea. we ascended to the second floor and right away i noticed a rack. it had a fishnet and vinyl (standard goth uniform) clad girl strapped to it being lightly whipped by a large man with feathered hair who i suspect spent many many hours playing dungeons and dragons in his basement. i watched the 'scene" for a few minutes and can honestly say i was not impressed.
but i was intrigued.
something was stirring, a bloodlust was waking up, i could feel it rising up from my gut and everything else fell away. the dance floor with its awful industrial music disappeared, the people in the club all melted into one sea of black fabric and silver spikes. i could no longer distinguish one person from another and i so completely did not care. unless one was going to step forward and be strapped to that rack i could no longer see them. i could smell my own adrenaline, it was intoxicating, my only thought was how i could get up there and get to that rack.
fortune intervened on my behalf, a group of meathead goomba boys who usually work there as busboys decided to stop in for some laughs. their machismo prompted them to dare one into taking a turn (oh how i love machismo for the many opportunities it has provided me with which with to humiliate men)...not wanting to get beat by the fluffy haired man, a female domme was needed. naturally i offered my services, it was only polite...i strapped that boy in tight, i was happy to see i still knew how to tie a good knot. i surveyed the little table of tools i had to choose from. i was drawn to a clear plexiglass paddle...i have always loved paddles, as they provide excellent control...and so i lifted it. i almost cannot describe the feeling i got when i picked it up. a little surge of pure ecstasy went through me, i literally vibrated i was so excited.
i took a moment to relish the feeling while i walked back over to the prone boy. then i raised my arm and beat that boys fucking ass.
bliss
sometimes i feel more connected to human beings when i am beating them than when i am fucking them. there is this myth perpetuated about sex that it is this great unifier, two people coming together in the most intimate way, but that is only really true for me if i am in love...if i am not than i might as well be masturbating because my partner is nothing more than a breathing dildo to me. its just 2 people alone in a room together who happen to be bumping parts.
i never feel that way when i am beating someone. it doesn't matter if i have great affection for them or utter contempt, though i suppose like sex it is better when you care about the person you are with. i become completely lost in the moment with them, attuned to every nuance of their reactions. can i push a little further? did that last one hurt too much? where is the edge and how far over can we go? i watch every flinch, hear every breath, anticipate every jagged sigh. it is one of the few times i am every truly living in the present and not worrying about the future or tormenting myself over the past.
who needs to work out their issues with a shrink or mind numbing anti depressants? all i need is a good paddle and a willing backside.
posted by Ms_Bunnie 4:00 PM
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