THE CLUB WAS A LOW-CEILINGED VAULT CALLED, appropriately enough, The Caves. At one time people used to work and live in these spaces, nestled beneath South Bridge street. This was also the same area where Burke and Hare did their unspeakable deed back in the 1820s. Tonight, though, I was in this dank cellar for another reason: Spankings! I’ve been a fan of spanking (administering, not receiving) for some time, so after reading about a club night dedicated to the art of spanking, I decided that it was time to sate my curiosity.
Pushing aside the dark curtain that hid the vault entrance, I made my way into the dank atmosphere. After paying my £5 cover charge to the leather-clad beauty behind the curtain, I was greeted with the first spanking challenge of the evening.
Lovely Doorkeeper: “Would you like a cupcake or a spanking?”
Me: “Excuse me?”
Lovely Doorkeeper: “Or you can have both now. Some people like to spank first because it makes them hungry for the cupcake.”
I told the hostess that I’d have to think about it and stepped past the admission table. Here, however, my entrance into the spanking world was blocked by a tall, shaved-headed man in matching wearing matching black leather pants and shirt.
Man in Black Leather: “We have a dress code.”
Me: “Yes, I know. That’s why I’m wearing a tie.”
I was afraid this would happen. A lot of these fetish nights, it turns out, have dress codes. Which is all well and good. You can’t just have any Tom, Dick and Harry running in off the street. So I dressed up in my Sunday best. Crazy for me, but apparently not fetish enough.
I wanted to tell the folks, Hey! I’m the one who just showed up at a fetish club full in non-fetish gear! Doesn’t that make me the naughtiest person in the room? Shouldn’t I get a prize or something?
Anyway, thanks to the intervention of my (appropriately dressed) friends, I was allowed admittance to the inner sanctum of spankdom. The club consisted of three areas: An outside and open waiting area, complete with a shop for all your spanking needs, a bar area and, of course, the spanking room.
When we first arrived, the scene was pretty dead, so we helped ourselves to a couple of drinks and studied the other denizens of the club. There were a couple of sailors that looked like they’d gotten separated from the rest of the Village People and a stringy looking gentleman dressed in Victorian clothing who looked like an (even more) strung out version of Johnny Depp’s Willy Wonka. He was surrounded by a bevy of Victorian beauties.
We ducked our heads inside the spanking chamber.
Dominating the Spanktrodome were what looked like two oversized stepladders. Were these workbenches? At least they looked like something your dad would store tools in… if he was NAUGHTY! These were, in fact, the spanking benches. The spankee (person being spanked) kneels on the first step of the bench and leans their torso across the top. The spankee’s arms can then be tied to each of the spanking bench posts by the spanker (if desired) which leaves the gluteus maximus (aka butt) ripe and open to the air for spankings.
It took everyone a while to get their drink on, so the spankings didn’t really commence until late in the evening. A volunteer would step forward and submit themselves to the spanking bench. There seemed to be two older gentlemen (dressed in the appropriate fetish gear, of course) administering the spankings. They used various spanking implements including leather whips and paddles to smite the spankees.
After a few minutes of being spanked, the spankees would change themselves out with new volunteers. There was also a helpful gentleman wandering the room in a SWAT T-shirt tying up people with various elaborate robe techniques imported from Japan called Shibari.
The highlight of the evening was when Willy Wonka stepped up to the spanking bench, along with his Victorian posse. This guy could SPANK! And the Victorians loved it. He even brought along his own briefcase full of spanking implements, like those guys you see carrying their own sticks into the pool hall. This guy was a serious spanker! Although the night had been mostly flesh-free, this was, as they put it on Seinfeld, the first time the nipple made an appearance.
There was nowhere to go after Wonka’s performance, and the rest of the night segued into what would be a normal dance club night, except that everyone (with the obvious black sheep) was dressed in fetish gear. Unfortunately, the mix less was dissapointingly spank-free, with no appearances from Funkadelic’s “The Electric Spanking of War Babies”, Frank Zappa’s “Stevie’s Spanking”, or even a cut or two from Babes in Toyland “Spanking Machine” album. We were, however, treated to a rousing, end-of-the-night blast of Devo’s “Whip It”.
Oh well. There will always be next spanking club. I’ve got to go back for my cupcake, anyway.
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