YESSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I wasn't even going to post today.

I googled my name to see if my blog would show up in the search, and one of the results included Mistress Alexia, a London dominatrix. Wonderful! I am so pleased, don't ask why! This takes me back to an adventure I had with a couple friends not long after graduating from college. Let me tell you...

I'm on Facebook (of course!), and one of the groups that I eventually joined is BDSM-Fetish. The concept of BDSM had always intrigued me for reasons that I never really understood. I don't have enough balls to order someone else around, and neither am I into being flogged or suspended by rope. Am I? I don't think so. Anyways, the group moderator would post different bondage-related events that happen in LA and thereabouts, and naturally I decided to see for myself what goes on in these clubs.

Upon doing a little background research to make sure that no one would immediately seize me upon entrance in this club and then clamp electrified pliers on my nipples (I know, I'm such a nerd), I got a couple of my friends to go with me and check out DV8 night at Passive Arts. We were scared. To say the least. S&M is something I had only ignorantly joked about with my friends or to scare my mother (more on her later this week). The dungeon's location isn't necessarily out-of-the-way, but we did drive past it a couple times. We parked, nervously giggled all the way to the front door of the place, paid our cover, and walked in.

Oh, joy - you know, I like God. He's so funny! Not that our experience was hilarious, it's just that I was unmanned by how relaxed I felt. Yes, there was a creepy guy binding a scantily clad girl in miles of intricately knotted rope, suspending her from the ceiling, and spinning her while alternately slapping her @$$ and tickling her with a feather. Yes, in a separate small room, a dominatrix who startlingly looked like Loretta Devine was spanking a naked white dude who was slung over a chair with a riding crop. But there was something about the atmosphere that made me feel safe (can't speak for my homegirls, though). I think it had something to do with the fact that it's such a community. I don't know. I do know that I felt more apprehensive at the nightclubs I used to frequent - that it felt more like a meat-market there than at the dungeon.

One friend got into this little cage, and I suspended it and spun her around in it. That's about as kinky as it got for me.

We left when this one guy was preparing to suspend himself from the ceiling using his flesh-hook piercings. I can sit and watch a foreboding looking man run the tips of sharp knives and daggers all over a half-naked girl's body, but I do have my limits.

It was an educational night, and I went again, the second time with an ex-boyfriend of mine. We're still friends. He thought that everyone there eventually gets their fill of bondage and humiliation and then erupts into a spontaneous orgy, at which point he could jump in. No such luck, my nig.

I'm still fascinated, but I haven't been there in over a year. At least there's a mistress out there in the dark alleys of London, whipping and humiliating powerful Anglo businessmen into submission, all in the name of Alexia. Right on.