AND I was lucky enough to already have a playdate set up with a FemDomme for the Bordello party.
So...
Moonburn has been 'hit or miss' for me. It seems to be kind of cliquish, where guys tend to play with guys they already know, and breaking into cliques is not one of my people-skills.
But, I have made friends with one guy in particular, and I knew, if he was there, I'd get some.
Stew was there, and in short order, we were in the first room on the right, and I was naked, leaning against the spider gate, getting my butt tended to.
I did tell him, I have a date later tonight, that she said she wouldn't mind seeing fresh bruises on my bottom, but my personal preference would be to have a relatively fresh bottom for her to do her magic.
He did quite well, giving me a reddish color, sans bruising.
And a bit later, I returned the favor, only, um, somewhat harder.
After the party was over, he and I went to my house, and resumed, in my playroom.
I showed him MY collection of toys, compared to what he brought in his bag of tricks... and in due time, I set up the video camera, he put my ankles and wrists in a spreader bar, and he smacked my bottom with everything in the room. When he was using my plastic paddle with raised studs on it, it drew blood, and he called a halt.
After some clean up, I put HIM in the spreader bar, and gave him much worse than he gave me, including, joyfully, using my new cane.
We agreed, it was a good time, and he made his way out, and headed home.
I spent what time I had left in the shower with a body shave, dressed, and made my way to the Bordello.
The Bordello has four primary play areas: the large main room, to the left of the entrance, or to the right, one room an eighth of the size of the main room with two play stations, and adjacent to that one, a smaller room, with a desk, spanking bench, and examining table, and then there's the basement, with a paddy gate, spanking bench, and a canopy bed.
I arrived late, but not late by LA standards, and my date had not arrived yet.
I checked out the current activity, and was about to go outside to the firepit/smoking area, when I saw my date at the check in desk.
We talked a few minutes, then she looked around, "Okay, where...?" and we went into the larger of the two small rooms. She looked at the spanking bench, looked at me, and said, "So, get naked."
I did, but not quite. I was wearing jock-briefs, so my bottom was well exposed, and she left those on my, along with my no-show socks.
I mounted the bench, and settled in.
She opened her bag of tricks, and produced a bit of ginger root, already carved into shape, and let me smell it, then slipped it into my anus.
.... Ohhh yeah.
Then she went to work, or play, smacking my bottom with countless paddles of varying shapes and sizes, and I don't know what else, because she wasn't showing them to me.
One paddle, in particular, was so thick and heavy, that... well, her right hand index finger has been broken twice, she said, and she BROKE IT AGAIN using that paddle on my butt.
She continued awhile, working through her pain, then called a halt.
I got up, thanking her for her time, and dressed, and we went about, checking out the other party action for awhile.
We went outside and talked. She does not like cigarette smoking, but so far, has been tolerant of me, smoking.
And, she asked, "So, ready to go again?"
Oh, hell, yes.
We went into the smallest room, and she suggested, checking out what I brought.
Well, I brought the spreader bar, and got nearly naked, and got up on the examining table, and she set the cuffs around my wrists and ankles.
I had brought a bath brush, a short cane, really meant for OTK, and a braided cat o nine tails, with the ends starting to unravel.
And she used them all, multiple times, switching back and forth.
With the bathbrush, she hit the same spot on one of my cheeks, six or seven times, then move to hit the other one, hitting the same spot repetitively, then back to the first spot. Oooooch...
But it was the cat, with the frayed ends, that started to draw blood from my cheeks, and as it started to get messy, she called a halt.
I daresay, the alcohol sprayed on my cheeks stung more than all the action that preceded it.
We cleaned up, I dressed, we went outside and talked awhile.
The party was winding down.
She was preparing to leave with her significant other, heading out to a local restaurant for ice cream, as was her custom after parties here, and invited me to join them.
Sure!
So we went; they had ice cream, I had my daily meal, we talked.
And I got home, at like 4 in the morning.
As I write this, it's just short of 48 hours of the last smack of whatever on my cheeks, and ... it is still sore, with circular pink spots where she was constantly hitting with the bath brush.
Ah, the sweet pleasure of pain1
What a great day!
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