I’m a firm believer of trying new things. It’s a value that was instilled in me from a young age. When I was a kid my mother would constantly remind me of the maxim my grandmother relentlessly drilled into her. I’d stare at Brussels sprouts and my face would be doing its best impression of a prune. “How do you know you don’t like it if you haven’t tried it?” She’d ask. I’d often lie and say I had, just for a bit of wiggle room. Mum was persistent though. I’d try Brussels sprouts, anchovies (which I disliked the notion of purely because of the Ninja Turtles’ disdain for them), avocado and almost everything else under the sun. It helped, truly. It meant that whenever I left home I’d be game to push my comfort zones and explore new experiences. This exploration led to a whole host of discoveries, some of which I cradle close to my heart. As long as it doesn’t terrify me on a deep or emotionally triggering level, I’m pretty game to give it a whirl.
Which is a roundabout way of saying that my grandma indirectly made me go to a CFNM event last night.
While I’ve got the Oasis monthly membership, I’ve been making an effort to stop in regularly and see if anything piques my interest. How do I know that something I stumble upon isn’t gonna spark this insatiable passion in me? For all I know getting kicked in the balls could cuddle up next to hearing old TV theme songs in the alcove close to my heart. After last night I’m quite sure it won’t, but how would I have known otherwise?
So the basic run down of the CFNM event I attended went like this: The men were all naked while the women dressed to the nines. Lingerie, dresses, corsets or swimwear, whatever made them feel fancy. Immediately this created an unconventional power dynamic, which was hella interesting. The expectation was that the men would be subby and different coloured ribbons were available to indicate their interests. Green signified an interest in interactive play, pink was verbal humiliation and white indicated acts of service. We were brought into the dungeon for some ice breakers. There was the aptly named “Wheel of Misfortune” that had all manner of punishments for the men. Spankings, ball flogging, foot worship, back/foot massage, trampling (the woman walks on the man’s back until she’s had her fill). The women in turn were invited up to spin the wheel, but generally got to switch up to their choice and canvassed for volunteers. The wheel stopped on spankings and I gingerly put up my arm. I’d tried light spanking play before and I’d never felt much in the way of gratification. Perhaps this would be the spark to fuel the fire of passions in my loins. It wasn’t. It’s not like it was terrible, but it really didn’t do anything for me. Like if someone offered you a saltine cracker. They’re not offensively bad, but chances are it’s not gonna light up your day. Not shitting on anyone who enjoys it (especially since it’s a pretty fucking common kink). Maybe all the foam rolling has dulled my senses, but pain doesn’t really phase me sexually.
Other guys though? They were loving it and that was awesome to see. There’s something about witnessing a person getting just what they want that’s kind of heart-warming. It was sort of inspiring seeing this friendly black dude built like Terry Crews profusely enjoying a bit of CBT and some severe spankings. He was owning it, entirely unashamed. I wish I had that kind of confidence in all the things I know I’m into. Being able to ask openly for what you want without fear of judgement is a hell of a thing to see. Particularly the social defiance of this hyper masculine looking guy relishing the chance to be put into a position of vulnerability. I’m such a fan of you do you and this guy was living it. I could tell by my involuntary winces that the CBT stuff wasn’t for me. Ball flogging held no excitement beyond trepidation. I couldn’t identify with the appeal of trampling (I’m assuming it’s a status play tool?) and the near lashing of the guys spread out on the cross shaped restraint pushed over my limits for the pain/pleasure threshold. Outstanding that these guys were getting their needs met, though. I’ll leave the fun to them. I came back later to find the gals playing ring toss with the dudes spread out, backs on the floor. I’m sure you don’t need an active imagination to guess what the pegs were.
So it wasn’t my thing, big deal. Spending the night observing something new was a low risk investment into great potential. I still had an excellent night. A couple of my friends happened to be there, so we hung out (no pun intended) in the outdoor pool. I got to chat to a Pro-Domme in the hot tub for about an hour (fortunately off duty. If she was charging I’d be broke) and learn a ton about the profession. We talked about the kids of requests her clients make, how she advertises and the legal loopholes that make it possible for her to practise. I came to appreciate what it means to her and how she got involved in the first place. We chatted about our preferences, kinks and how this compared/contrasted with our non-sexual selves. I 100% discovered a new kink that I’m too gunshy to admit here, but it’s a doozy. It was a new perspective I’d never had access to and it was fascinating. Fun chat, cool gal.
So thanks grandma. You always were looking out for my best interests.