So last night was newbie night. It was very very good.
Not just in the sense that pretty much everything went well but in that everything that went wrong was so hilarious you couldn't make it up.
First off, I had been dubious about the presence of couples (the venue we use is primarily a swingers joint) and I was absolutely right to be dubious it would seem.
All the single guys (nearly 40 of them) were assigned to their Mistresses and sent off to the dungeon, by the time I got down there after dealing with stragglers it was heaving as each guy in turn was strapped up, down, upside down, electrocuted, paddled, used as furniture, made to clean boots, trampled, and in the most notable visual of the evening, lined up with their arses out and assigned a note on the 'doh ray me' scale and paddled in the manner of a piano.
The couples had been assigned a seperate area so they could work more privately and I could keep an eye on them. What I wasn't expecting was one couple who really should have been at Relate. She wanted to do certain things, he kept saying either 'no' or 'whatever' and I ended up shutting them in a room with a brief biology lesson and wishing them luck.
The next couple spent an inordinate amount of time complaining that they thought it was a seminar (what? whatwhatwhat?) so I ended up giving them to a Master and trying very hard not to kill them. Let me rephrase that, trying not to kill him, his partner was a very nice lady.
The third couple were quite mad but pleasant and ended up stealing one of the slaves from the groups and taking him off to a room for something. Probably a hand of Canasta.
The fourth were absolutely brilliant and entered into the swing of things with so much gusto they very nearly stole the show from the Mistresses. Which would be great on any evening other than this one!
The feedback I got was mainly brilliant but it was hilarious at the end of the night to read some of the forms expressing a desire for us to 'delve more into the mental aspect of D/s, it's not all equipment and whips'
IT'S NOT? I'm so glad someone told me - I clearly had that terribly wrong.
Sweet mercifal heavens, short of actually finding you a beautiful, single, highly experienced Domme who wants to have a relationship with you I pulled off a great club night? That'll fucking do me.
Far be it for me to shy away from current events and articles of great import in my blog, so here's my pick of the news from the Sunday papers:
Police have arrested a man for attacking his father with a cheese snack. Peter Hamman,22, is accused of throwing a bag of Cheetos at his father, Michael, during a row at home in Iowa.
"Michael's shirt was covered in Cheeto's dust", say police. He also cut his nose when the bag hit his glasses.
You have made a person phone you solely to have an argument with them at 3am during which time you are fucking the person dressed as Santa. You have no idea who this person is, but it's suddenly very important to annoy them.
You wake up with a very small plastic turtle on your nose.
One of the dogs has been renamed 'Flipper poo' for reasons that seem hazy at best.
You have decided to become a jellyfish.
Your new favourite song is called 'another song about guilt & death'
lady says: want to knowa fun fact about me? LJ says: of course LJ says: duh lady says: I'm really a lady says: jellyfish LJ says: well, in that case colour me impressed lady says: I'm northern LJ says: i don't know many ocean-going lifeforms who can carry off a corset like that
Clearly the masochist I enjoyed the CBT session with yesterday is some kind of closet Karma God and got his own back by making the temperature in Pedestal last night so high I actually had to leave because it was making me ill. God only knows what the poor lasses crowbarring themselves into latex endured - if you're going to have an evening celebrating female supremacy then kindly fuck the whinings of every slave in nowt more a posing pouch and wheel in some portable air-con! I don't care if he's 103 and has arthritis, set fire to him. That'll keep him warm.
(reminder to self - Finish notes on 'Dommes - male creation or cash cows?')
It was an interesting evening, a chance to chat with some of the girls, lose a few extra pounds by cooking slightly and dodge the floggers in the somewhat small playroom. My poor boy nearly lost and eye by an unwieldly wielding whilst trying to trot after me to the smoking area (note - always make friends with smoking area guard, he has the key to the fresh air!)
I prefer Ice bar.
In fact a nice event with plenty going on but I'd say they've outgrown the venue.
Other than that I may have left too early to save a lovely American who dropped his Prada suit and turned up in rad lace bra and panties just after I left. Hope they took care of him...
Anyone who knows me knows I am easily distracted by things that go beep, whizz or indeed flash flash ping. I have a whole windowledge dedicated to a small brand of Japanese solar-powered toys who sway their beatific giant heads non stop during daylight hours in some kind of insanity inducing autistic ballet.
I also procured today a small but powerful gizmo which allows me to reproduce at the touch of a button the voice of a certain Mr.T. With said gizmo I can alert those who chatter incessantly around my person to "Quit yo jibber jabber"
I may also (should the need arise) inform a bolshy pilot that "I ain't gettin on no plane" and feel sure to be heard, or indeed that I "Pity the fool" who commits a faux pas in my presence, I can also insert my own faux pas for which my pity for said fool would be forthcoming.
Finally, should I be feeling very mischevious I can, when asked my name, reply that "My first name is Mr, second name is that period, last name is 'T'" and who would question that?