I almost didn’t go to Play Club. I had no plans, was skint and had a busy weekend, I could have done with the break. However, after enjoying the Manchester Munch and spending time socialising with people, me and the hubby decided to give it a go.
I’m very glad we did!
It was Kev who got the fun started, we were waiting around in the main dungeon space so he decided to hit me a bit. I very much approved of that motion and eagerly placed myself on the spanking bench. After a while our friend Little Snowflake (LS) asked if she could watch.
“Of course, you can join in if you want.” I responded, LS didn’t need asking twice. Eagerly checked out our kit bag and got stuck in.
I really love the experience of being beaten by multiple people. It happens fairly regularly and is an advantage to masochistic me and also to those topping me. I take a lot of beating. My pain threshold is high and once I’m in the pain pleasure sweet spot I can stay there for hours (no exaggeration) which is challenging for one person. And tops don’t half whine about how much their arms ache because of course, their pain is most important.
So when there are multiple meanies involved, it shares the load. They can take a break when needed and I still get beaten. It’s fantastic. Definitely a win-win situation.
It’s interesting, the way the tops organise themselves, find their rhythm together. LS and Kev worked well together, there were several points I didn’t know who was hitting me where. The only dead giveaway was that LS had very spiky nails so when she stroked me, I could tell. It was mostly scratching and poking my sore bits with said nails, to be fair but I wasn’t complaining.
We’d only taken a limited number of hitty things, it really hadn’t been on the agenda to do impact play, so when another of our friends, Joresh , offered up an evil hitty from his kit bag I was thrilled. And boy, was it evil. A huge wooden paddle with holes all along it. It hit hard, deep and stung as well as thudded. I like all kinds of pain but there is something infinitely pleasing about the balance of thud and sting in the same hit.
I was a happy V. There were 2 people being wonderfully mean to me with a variety of hitting implements. Both with different styles but both highly vicious in their own sweet ways. The only way it could get better was to add more.
So I asked Joresh if he wanted to join in. Three is the highest number of meanies beating me at one time I’ve had. I’m not sure how easy it would be to add more, but I’d like to top that number or (possibly) die trying. I’d never played with Joresh before, but he took his cue well and was immediately brutal. I approved. I especially enjoyed the punching…well, when we stopped the spanking bench from slipping forward and I was no longer worried about slamming my head into a wall…punching is deep and penetrating and feels oh so good.
As is often the case, the scene didn’t have a definitive end, it just kinda slowed to a stop. I was happy to stand up, move around and have a drink. I was a little light-headed but not totally spacey but I was wonderfully happy.
After a lil’ chit-chat the hubby and I headed off to a private room for the second scene of the night. Multiples, I love multiples. This time I did the top work and Kev was my canvas. He adores needles, they take him off into a happy floaty headspace. I am more than happy to aid him in that, though I admit it’s a service I perform. I get satisfaction out of making him happy but I don’t really enjoy sticking the needles in him.
The bit I did enjoy was running a rocks off bullet over said needles and making him squirm, moan, squeal and roar. That was fun. As was (after a cleaning!) using the same bullet on me for it’s more traditional usage of clitoral stimulation. I’m getting braver, doing more sexual things when we’re out at clubs. I’ve been a bit shy about that before. I don’t know quite why as being watched/overheard is a big fantasy of mine. Anxiety is a weird beast but my confidence is definitely growing.
For much of the rest of the night I was busy socialising. I did spend a little time rubbing down a very happy man in a vac bed, which wasn’t something I had anticipated doing. Especially as I didn’t really know the guy. But I was a couple of hands in a sea of many and it was fun to feed off the energy of those around me and again, help out and be of service. I enjoy making other people happy.
So you know, I’d had a fab Play Club, multiple meanies, multiple scenes, multiple bruises. There was only one way it could get better.
While Kev went off to do some needleplay with the ever lovely Maenad (who gave me owlie Jewellery, I will love her forever) upstairs, me and her partner Ric headed back into the dungeon for more fun beating times!
This time I had a nice lie down on the bondage bed/cage in the room. Ric was immediately attracted to a bag of amazingly brutal looking hitty things, he asked if he could borrow and was given enthusiastic permission to do so. I have to say, I was a little more hesitant, knowing how bruised my butt was already and how scary the items looked. But the eager masochist in me soon took over.
As Ric pointed out, I didn’t need much warming up, my butt and thighs were giving out a fair amount of heat already. He started with a bouncy crop. I do like a crop, it can feel cane like and can be very focused in one spot. I like the variety, not knowing exactly what kind of impact is coming next.
We went seriously up a level after the crop, to an aluminium baseball bat. Yep, you read that right. And holy cow did it mean business. I loved the direct heaviness of the thump but with a distinctive sting that rounded out the pain to a wonderfully addictive level. I could have been hit with that thing all night, but Ric had his eye on some more pretties.
I’m not into cricket, but the beautiful antique cricket bat (you could see the age in it, the worn leather and the patina of the wood) I’m into. Heavy, all consuming thumping pain that just envelops so much area all at once. And with such a wonderful booming sound. Sometimes I forget to mention the noise an implement makes, but sometimes the sound is an essential part of why I love it so.
The most scary of implements was a metal paddle with lots of holes in the middle. It looked kinda like a cheese grater and kinda felt a bit like being hit by a huge one! It was hard and heavy and stingy. I liked it but it was more difficult for Ric to wield and it was a proper serious pain that took some processing. I preferred the baseball bat, that, well that I want lots more of.
At this point we were given a 20minute warning for the club shutting.
“So, that gives me 10 minutes to beat the hell out of you then.” Ric exclaimed and I cheerily agreed. I was most assuredly enjoying the endorphin rush by this time, I was feeling ecstatically happy and hungry for more pain.
Ric brought out a serious cane. A plasticky one (Delrin I think the evil material is) relatively thick and ouchy. It’s well documented that I have a love/hate relationship with canes. I love to hate them. The pain is so unique in the way it grows after impact. Evil fucking things. I do love them though. Especially when I’m deep in the happy head space of already being beaten into a masochistic pulp. The echoing pain just rolls through the existing sting so wonderfully.
At this point, a mystery meanie leapt up to have a go with the cane. I know Ric wouldn’t just let anyone hit me and I was also very ready to shout up if I wasn’t happy. Even though I didn’t know the guy’s name, in fact we hadn’t met before, I was feeling perfectly safe and in control.
My mystery meanie started in light and asked me to rate the hits so he knew how hard he could go. That’s a good way to play with someone you don’t know, I’d say. He started out really light and got to a 9 out of 10 with one hard, intense hit. I did struggle to say the word ‘nine’ though as my brain dealt with the hit. That’s a challenge in itself! After he handed the cane back to Ric, he thanked us for letting him try it out. I introduced myself with a giggle and found out his name was John.
So thanks Mystery John for the lovely caning.
Ric took over for the last 5 minutes. I can’t remember what else I was hit by. I know it was only a few more things, just to kinda wind me down a bit.
I leapt (well, gingerly slid) off the bed, hugged Ric enthusiastically and thanked him.
“I better go get dressed.” I said and skipped off to do so. After admiring my butt in the conveniently placed mirror tiles. Wow, I was well beaten.
It’s kinda useful that I don’t get so spacey very much, as I was dressed, had hugged all my friends and was in an uber home within 15 mins of my beating ending. It’s lovely when I do get into that spacey place, it frees my mind beautifully, but I don’t feel I lose out if I don’t attain that. The pain does that clearing for me on its own.
At home, Kev and I ate (thank the Lord for slow cookers) and chatted through all the fun of the scenes we’d enjoyed. The perfect way to wind down after a fun night of multiples.
And do you know what?
Well now, I want more multiples.
Check out Wicked Wednesday for more wickedly good words. I didn’t check the prompt this week, but I think we can kinda say my masochist uniform is bruises…so I have, in round about fashion included it anyway. ;)