…alle mumusige war die Burregroven und die Momerathes ausgrabe.

All of which has absolutely nothing to do with last Friday night at XS but merely goes to show that, on a cerebral level, I’m failing fast. (For interest only; the above is proof that scholastic indoctrination does work as, for some reason, when I was at school, we were taught the Jabberwocky in German!)

But returning to the matter in hand. Last Friday night t’was Club XS, club extraordinaire, lurking in the depths of wildest Kent. And trust me - wild it does get!

Having braved the M25/A2/M2, populated with a plethora of vehicular based lunatics all intent on wiping each other out at the earliest opportunity, sweating slightly (damp haze above lower lip stylee), we pulled into the car park at about 22:15. And it was near as dammit empty. That’s odd, thinks I, cos I’m like that you see, terribly pontificatory. We (Wossname and I) enter, pay and survey a total of - 8 people. Oo-er Matron! Still we shall see. So drinks in hand, we moved into the dungeon area and parked our posteriors. This was to prove awkward for your faithful scribe since I was breaking in a new outfit prior to Skin 2 Expo on Sunday. Beautiful bronze leatherette 2 piece (Top & skirt style thingy) with purple metallic appliqué. One slight ( = major) problem. It was as flexible as a wife’s decision. It actually would and could stand up on it’s own, I know I tried it after I made it. Infact it was damn near sentient. But, what the hell, I liked it, it looked good and a true artist must suffer for his creativity. (What bollox doth the man speak!).

So having slurped a bit of my drink, I thought, just at the threshold of hearing that I heard a faint SHAZZAM! and a brief smell of brimstone. Upon turning round, the bar area was suddenly packed to bursting! And even more were pouring through the door. And all night long they kept coming (however you want to spell that is up to you!). By about 23:00 the place was probably more stuffed with players and watchers than I have ever seen it. As well as Mistress Sparky (resident Domme) one of my personal punishing pulchritudinous faves, Mistress Lizzy was there. I don’t think I have ever seen her not laughing and smiling. Even more so as she leathered several bottoms into submission. And shocked a few into it as well! For a lot of the evening the crack, crack, crack of her electro-paddle could be heard. Sorry - too many hi-voltage shocks during my work career, thank you most kindly! (This, from a man with a TENS machine on his St Andrews cross for the correction of noncompliant personages!)

One regular on the scene, who, following a recent L’Amour conversation shall henceforth be known as Pussy, brought a lady along for her (supposed) first time at a club. Hmmm, excuse me if I retain a degree of dubious pondering over this. If that was her first time, her clothing tastes definitely tended to the - er - eclectic! And she knew how to enjoy herself! Several people were lent a hand or two (literally) and other portions in their own search for pleasure!

As I was breaking in (in more ways than one!) this new outfit, I was ice cream-less, much to the disappointment of several people. Look at it this way ladies, it’ll be so much better next time. (Especially if the damn costume eases a bit and I can actually manage to bend in it!)

As I say, the place was rocking. And there was literally no room to swing a crop. I had a couple of new toys to play with but, due to their design, one was too long to swing and the other, well, the other seemed to scare people off. Dunno why - not! Also the RFA had decided she wanted a bit of respite (something to do with the bruises). It’s no good I must find another part-time female subby. I get so out of practice otherwise!

But the place was jammed, and I found out that the PlayPenz wheel, a HUMUNGOUS metal contraption was lurking outside, still awaiting installation in the venue. There was no way with a crowd like this, that it could have been used. Roll on the opening of the new extension!

Master John laid himself open to the tender mercies of a couple of subs, however, to quote Mistress Lizzy’s other half, “Hmmm, that’s a silly move with Lizzy standing there!” And silly move it was (though I suspect he enjoyed it) John’s lady, Janet is no mean hand with the toys as was the other lady, but when Lizzy joined the fray. Well, I’ll leave you to imagine the scene.

Around this time it was getting so that an old perve (not me of course) could hardly decide where to look. The RFA was sliding up and down the seat to get a better view so often that I expected the covering to melt and stick to her arse (Another outfit ruined!) But eventually we decided to take the first trip upstairs and view the cornucopia of bodily delights from the Gods so to speak. And, well, we sort of, joined in, shall we say (shall we? - yes, I guess we will) So she didn’t get to see too much after all. But eventually, temporarily sated we rejoined the teeming mass of humanity (pervanity?) down stairs for refreshment and relaxation. We spent the next hour or so in a combinational activity of chatting, drinking, laughing and voyeurising (This word doesn’t exist and my spelling-checker insists I mean voyeur sing, an interesting concept!).

But eventually the draw of the pleasures of the flesh became too much and we rescaled the dizzy heights to the upper levels, found ourselves a little shaded area, beneath a tree by a babbling brook (yes it’s bollox, I’m sure that you get the picture) and indulged in a delightful discussion on the verse of Heinrich Heine (Yeah - right - course we did!) And when we surfaced from a haze of hedonism, it was about 02:30. So with the prospect of a further nights pervery at Wicked a bit later, we decamped. The journey back was both pleasurable (Buttered hot cross buns and coke at 70mph, great fun) and annoying (M25 closed at Dartford interchange) but I rolled into bed at about 03:30. An excellent night (and early morning) and there’s another later this month too. Deep joy!!!