Inside the Indoor Beach Play Party

Princess Kali from Femdom United at an OUTDOOR beach play partyWhat did I do over the long weekend? It’s blazing hot, with the temperature dancing around the high end of 20 C or even over 30 C and nasty humidity. The pools are full of screaming children and all my friends were mewling on their social media feeds that they were too hot to fuck. Never-mind,  a little AC and the right theme, and I was all set for a great play party.

I hold these parties once every couple of months, inviting an exclusive group of my trusted friends to romp and explore and be our kinky, sexy selves.  This isn’t your mother’s play party, with all the fetish protocol and no sex attitude that entails. You won’t find some person in a motrocycle cap doing Florentine flogging to show they are a Serious Master. Everything is fun, casual and rests on an absolutely no creeps policy.

Picture an elegant 1930s apartment, done up in paper lanterns and blue crepe bunting in undulating waves…

The guests are dressed in trunks, swim suits and loose, airy cotton dresses. Some go pinup vintage, some go chic and modern. There are soft bodies; hard bodies; hairless, smooth bodies; and sensually furred bodies. Men, women and people who dance in the middle, all are welcome. They know it’s a safe place to explore what they love. The atmosphere is perky and joyful, vintage beach tunes and silly movies (Lilo and Stitch) setting the tone before we take things in a much more adult direction. I don’t think there was a bit of black leather in sight, unless, of course, you count the mountain of toys I’d put out to share.

I told the guests an 8:00 PM start time, and on the dot, the first handful of people start trickling in. Early birds ask if they can help out, and I hand off a beach ball and balloons to blow. I have three rooms open- the kitchen with its vague Arabian nights feeling; the long, pillared living room decked out to hold the majority of folks, and my bedroom made more intimate by a black light. There’s snacks and drinks: a whole watermelon in wedges; brightly coloured popsicles; jubejube fish; chips and salsa; beachy drinks. Nothing to excess, everything just right to indulge and to remind you that we’re here to play.

But how do you go from friends to frolic?

Everyone arrives around the start time, first Peppermint Kitten and her man (they’re early birds, and like to help set up) and then guests in ones and twos. Every party starts like this, with people bunching up on the couch, a little shy where it’s just a handful. Everyone is at least passingly familiar with everyone else, but there’s a note of care in everyone’s posture. Nobody wants to be rejected, and nobody wants to overstep and make anyone else uncomfortable. We might be inveterate perverts, but how to make sure we honour enthusiastic consent? The guests are almost all here, but we’re all having social time.

My friend, Peppermint goes on a little walk about the apartment, looking at all the decorations. I’m admiring my own handiwork in the bedroom, looking at the glow sticks hanging from the fan and the bright stars on the wall.

I get the play party truly started when I grab and lift my friend onto the bed.

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Play Party Hijinks

“Take off your clothes.” He was talking innocently to a couple when I interrupted. We’d taken enough time to get into the groove of the party and I had decided it was time to play. His collar was already on by his own initiation, but that wasn’t enough for me. Everything had to come off post haste: shirt, shorts, the contents of his pockets all stashed in my arms, given over with grudging but absolute obedience. I shoved them all off safely with the coats and got back to find him balking in his black boxer briefs.

He’d looked shocked at my abruptness and his shoulders were hunched submissively, but his face was petulant, making this his sticking point, showing a little bit of his will. I forced him with another quick command to strip down to skin, enjoying the hesitated humiliation in his behaviour. By taking him this way, I’d yanked him straight out of performer mode. Only moments ago, he was working his charm on the newbies, and now I’d made sure they could see who was boss. Past history had told me the female half of the pair had probably been added to the long list of women angling for a spanking from him- or at least he hoped it would be so, and I got a little, edge play style frisson of being truly naughty by taking that away. No. You’re mine.

Stripped down, I ordered a cup of ice from the juice bar, and had him on all fours. I’d selected a whippy leather belt from the toy bag, a long, tan strap I doubled over in my fist to make a handle. I made him, from charming social butterfly into nothing but a table, ass in the air, head down with everyone watching and set the cup on his tailbone. No more rakish flirting, he was a pure object to be used now.

A pattering of spanks gave him a warm up and made his cheeks blush. The belt was hard and mean, its wrapping edge making it crueler than it looked. Very soon he broke his good posture and there were ice chips everywhere.

To punish him, after he’d cleaned up, I made him stand in front of the giant mirror over the grey stone fireplace. He could have his back to everyone and see the room watching him. I laid into him with the belt some more before trying out one of the dungeon’s fixtures, a spanking bench shaped almost like an ironing board, with a sensibly posed slot to fit dangling male genitalia. It left his ass deliciously exposed for more vicious cropping.

I teased him about having to ask the women for permission to come until he found one that would be merciful, and made him stand, while I swabbed down the bench, pulling his cock erect for everyone to see. We went for a little walk around the loft room so there were no illusions about how completely exposed he was, no way he could pretend nobody noticed.

As a finally I parked him in the big bondage chair at the back of the room, a throne that let me restrain his wrists and chest so he was sitting helpess, waiting for me to decide my next move.

Seeing his erection, it proved too tempting not to play. Me and an hitachi enjoyed making him squirm- at theis point he had no idea if he was going to come that night, had to hold himself together as best he could, wriggling and moaning in his seat until I told him he had no choice, he was going to come, now.

Like a cork out of a champagne bottle, I ended up sprayed down from hair to waist, all over me, my arm and my pretty white summer dress. There was nothing left but to join him in nakedness, so off it came. Oh, and cute girl from earlier? She sent him a blushing PM about how she totally wanted me to do all those terrible things to *her*. We might have a play date coming up.

Witches, Snuff Play, Halloween Sex

smashedpumpkinsIt’s November now, which for a Canadian is a month of nothing (our Thanksgiving was last month) and a lot of nostalgia for October. This year, Halloween night meant a private party hosted at chez moi, with select guests of a very particular nature. Kinky and fun – everything you could want. Also I made banana bread AND german apple cakes.

Of course I have a strange feeling you’re not reading this to learn about my culinary offerings, so let’s talk about the party and how it came to involve quite the spooky, sexy success…

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