One Night in Heaven
22 October 2001
I'd wanted to go to [Fetish Club X] for some time when my housemate suggested it. There was an entire Fetish Weekend being organised in London including a trade fair and a Ball, but Jan and I could only afford the Friday night down in [South London suburb]. After making and modelling our outfits to friends - employing large amounts of rivets, grey dye, corsets, rubber strips, pink fluorescent netting and big big black boots for both of us - we took the train to London and got there at about 11. Even in the queue outside you could feel the atmosphere bubbling. My costume, which had seemed so outrageous and fabulous in our little suburban house, now seemed little and suburban compared to some of the wild creatures lined up around me. Those which I remember - a hoard of drag queens tiny diamante bikinis huddled together for warmth; a priest and a vampire chatting away; and lots of PVC nurses. The dress code was stricter than I'd thought it'd be. Jan was interrogated about whether her clothes contained any rubber, leather, PVC or lingerie (the rubber bodice was what got her in), and there were signs all the way up to the cloakroom warning us that the penalty for being found in "non-suitable attire" was eviction. Jan and I put on our make-up in the loos, helped to glue a young girl into her spiked bodice, then tottered off to explore. There were four main areas - an eclectic dance area, a hard house area, a chill-out room and a dungeon. The eclectic area was ace, and I spent a lot of time strutting my stuff in there. Every time I went to take the weight off my 5-inch spike heels, another top tune would start and I'd stagger back to the dancefloor to carry on. I can't remember any of the specific songs which was played but Jan swears that a Mike Flowers-remix of Radiohead's "Creep" was spun early on. They played some Pulp at the end of the night too. The hard house area was - harder. Every film you've seen that's had a scene in an underground New York/ London fuck-club warehouses, with people dancing nearly naked on the podiums to hard hard thrashing music, and porn still flashed on giant screens, and the police burst in looking for their child-porn baron (who's Joaquin Phoenix or possibly a scuzzed-up Brad Pitt) who's fondling a girl in a latex bikini by the bar - it was like that. But it wasn't as fun as the other rooms (and I'd seen all of the David LaChapelle pictures on the screens before) so I didn't stay there long but just used it as a walkway through to the dungeon. When Jan and I arrived the dungeon was half-full, and the amazing toys and equipment were being admired by the crowd but not utilised. By 2 in the morning though the area was much fuller and sweatier. There was a queue for the St Andrews Cross and the cages, and the curtains sealing off the Dark Area were heaving gently. I felt that some of the equipment wouldn't have looked out of place in an ancient remote Scottish castle, and some seemed have been transported directly from any good university viral-investigation laboratory. One quibble - the "ambient" music being pumped through was a little too ambient, and at time came close to whale songs. Good comfortable sofas though, and hoardes of men willing to act as footrests. And everyone was so friendly! On the train up I had been nervous, unsure of what rules of etiquette would be held. Jan helped me out with some - never talk to a slave directly, and always ask the master/mistress if you can touch them, not the slave themselves - but the good-nature of everyone in there dispelled all of my worries. I met a giant Cornish goth, his girlfriend and their slave, and a girl who I'd seen a few weeks previously in Tate Modern, and recognised her by her painted eyebrows. The latter had a cute goth boyfriend who Jan and I both lusted after but (despite his willingness) did little about. Lots of Americans had also come over for the entire weekend: I spoke to a guy in a leather kilt, and another guy with a wide selection of whips, including a soft one made of kangaroo hide. Whilst Jan was off looking for goth boys in skirts, I chatted to a trio of Croatian girls in lingerie whilst queues of men in leather trousers lined up to lick their feet. There was also a stunning man who was the best dancer that I'd ever seen, in leather trousers, a long leather coat, a leather cowboy hat and shades - if you recognise yourself, email me! You were beautiful. The morning arrived faster than Jan and I expected. The spike heels were finally taken off and we caught the first tube back to Victoria. It was all wonderful -given the space constraints and the public nature of this area, I haven't detailed everything that happened that night. Suffice to say that a lot of the rivets had fallen off by the end of the night and the whip-marks didn't fade for a fortnight. I'm definitely hoping to go to the Christmas event, and was thinking of a red rubber corset or dress with a white tinsel trim and boots, sort of a Mistress Xmas. See you there?
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