Note: This is very NSFW, which probably goes without saying.
I didn’t expect an invitation to a sex party when I started my first temp job, but somehow I received one. It was a gig in a call center. In between calls one afternoon, my supervisor (C) sent me an instant message. I guess it was based on a conversation I was having.
“I know a place where you can get booze for free. Top shelf.”
I was vaguely aware that C had an alternative mindset. The week I met him, he blithely mentioned coming from a nude beach vacation with his girlfriend. Such was not the typical water cooler conversation.
That said, I didn’t know the full extent of his lifestyle until that afternoon. Then it all came out at once- that he was the head bouncer at a monthly kink party that moved from mansion to mansion and would we be interested in going to one? Stunned, we both nodded. It was all done quietly but in front of everyone.
There were a few weeks to wonder what would happen and how weird it would be. I’d read some BDSM erotica as a teen, so I decided I knew plenty on the subject (I did not). I thought it boiled down to a frowning brooding man and a slight frightened woman in a corset, doing whatever he said and who even knew what that was.
In reality, there is pain. Sometimes intense, sometimes blood, and sometimes just sensation. It should always be what the recipient has requested. Sometimes it’s not.
On party day, we were given an address and arrival time. We were expected to greet people at the door and check their names off a list, and that would be how we’d earn free drinks all night.
C had described the venue as a lavish mansion. It was actually just a really big, sparsely furnished house. I was placed by the front door at a podium with a list of names. I was incredibly nervous thinking about who I’d have to talk to, and felt like I hopelessly stood out.
For the most part, everyone who came through the door was in street clothes- hoodies and jeans and jackets. At first.
A lot of them were shy when they saw me. Regular humans. Couples. Groups. Piercings and creative hairstyles. I slowly started feeling more at ease. Then the party started. I could wander, I soon saw a lot of things.
Men and women were being flogged on giant wooden crosses. A woman rode on a Sybian (basically a saddle/vibrator hybrid) until she had a huge orgasm. I learned what a vac bed was, and that I did not want to get in it. And I stood by a snack table and ate finger sandwiches and talked to people in elaborate latex outfits.
I met and instantly became infatuated with a beautiful dominatrix. She looked older than me and was wearing incredible black lingerie under a long black trench. Her mouth turned up and she gave me a long once-over, biting her lip.
A man approached her, clad completely in leather except for his dick hanging out, a metal clasp and chain hanging from his testicles. She grabbed the chain (per his request) and pulled. Hard and long. His face twisted into bliss. Not even the slightest sign of pain.
I saw an older man walking around naked and telling young women he was a diplomat. As far as I can tell, that was the extent of his fetish.
At one point, I sat on a couch and had dinner on a plastic plate. A man sat next to me, wearing a pretty, long, and wavy brown wig, a revealing black dress, and heels. We chitchatted and he told me he loved being tied up and left in a closet for hours. I found this fascinating (which is not the same as consent) and he asked if I’d like to do that for him. I politely said no and he was very nice about it.
I also met someone whose fetish was to be turned into a dog by a witch. This, as you’d imagine, is pretty tricky to make happen in reality. So he instead has designed and bought an array of animal outfits made of latex (including cows, dogs, pigs, etc.) and worn them to these parties. When dressing as animals lost its novelty, he ventured into cross dressing, then a sort of adult baby fetish. And so on.
I also met a man who claimed to be a sadist, and who instantly fixed me with a laser-point attention. We kissed a bunch and fell asleep together. It was surprisingly innocent. And yet I later learned that dozens of women at this party were enamored with him, and thus instantly hated me. The way they decided to express this hatred was to gossip like a pack of chickens.
When we woke up, it was morning. Sadist person smiled and said he couldn’t remember the last time he’d fallen asleep just kissing someone. Downstairs, breakfast was being served. The party’s remaining attendees stumbled blearily out into the main area. We all ate pancakes, bacon, and orange juice and looked at each other with mild awkwardness. Some people were still very naked. One guy still had half of an erection. He also had a metal dog collar and what I thought was a tattoo but was actually a permanent mark from getting branded by his master.
So yes. I went to a sex party and didn’t actually have sex.