Finding some fetish on our honeymoon was however most definitely on the itinerary. Especially since our destination was San Francisco, spiritual home of the Leatherman (the gay icon, not the folding pliers!)

After a romantic week riding 2,000 miles to the Grand Canyon and back on a Harley Davidson, we were ready to swap wholesome small-town America for big city decadence. And, although the bike looked the archetype shiny sexy beast, getting it between one’s legs was more like riding on the back of a two wheel tractor.

Before we could party, we had two problems to solve – where to shop for fetish gear and where to flaunt it. Last time we went to the US, we had to watch as expressionless security guards hand-checked our suitcases, stuffed with floggers, chains, the odd pink Rabbit and lots of shiny rubber. This time we had spared our blushes by limiting ourselves to rope. Oh and a leather hood disguised as motorcycle equipment.

Finding a fetishy outfit in San Francisco was easy. First stop was the notorious leatherman and SM shop Mr S Leather (opposite cute sister Madame S). The racks of heavy duty bondage accessories and steel manacles looked strangely familiar. Sure enough, Mr S is closely linked to our favourite Fettered Pleasures on Holloway Road. Balzac was especially excited by Nasty Pig (not one we’ve seen in London) – soft nylon-backed rubber trousers with strategic zips and matching top. Meanwhile Cerys was buying a year’s supply of sexy platform heels in Madame S, which were a fantastic bargain.

Mr S also turned out to be the source of all info about the underground network of pervy happenings. And we were in luck – that weekend was newly re-launched Club Deviation. With an address scrawled on the back of a flyer, we were ready to party.

This time, that perennial switch dilemma (Dom or sub tonight dear?) was easy to solve. Balzac was head to toe Nasty Pig with attitude. Cerys only had some purple honeymoon lingerie, fishnets and a new pair of platform sandals.

After our disappointments in New York last year – too many guys in jeans and t-shirts, no latex apart from the pro-dommes and Definitely No Alcohol – we weren’t quite sure what to expect in San Francisco. But as soon as we stepped through the door of Deviation, we knew we were onto a good thing. Everyone had dressed up. Properly. Full-bodied latex cat-suits with waist cincers mingled with embroidered corsets and thigh boots. Not a t-shirt in sight. And a remarkably good mix of guys and girls, gay and straight.

In one of those delicate US euphemisms, this was described as a “private party”. But Deviation was not a private party as a Londoner would understand the term. It advertised through its web-site and flyers and so long as you paid your $10 entry fee, you were in. Private party simply meant that you brought your own booze – and the play was full-on and dirty.

The venue was a privately owned house which doubled up as an erotic art gallery by day. It felt like a cosy, intimate club, with several rooms, but with gorgeous sexy artwork. There was a main bar where your bottle was stored (and labelled) and where the party-goers gathered to chat and gush over each other’s outfits. There was a dance-floor with music “just like you heard it at that kink club in London on your last ride there…” There was a soft room – No Shoes Allowed – which was, well basically for fucking. And, joys, there was a dungeon: St Andrew’s Cross, for which there was a bit of a queue all night; whipping bench; bonking machine, and plenty of couches for the voyeurs. Almost as soon as we arrived, a striking Domme with a cantilevered bosom began strapping her subbie girl to the cross. Her sub was stripped apart from a fine collection of piercings. No worries about nudity here, we noted.

The time had come for the lingerie to come off and be replaced with a rope bra, isolation hood (from Top-to-Bottom Leather) and crotch chains. With platform heels, Cerys is about 6’4, and tends to attract attention when being paraded around a crowded bar. Balzac was also showing off one of our favourite new toys – a beautifully crafted Rosebud plug, which has a dragon face with a ring between its teeth. Perfect for attaching a length of chain. Cute toys always make a good talking point and he was soon being chatted up.

One of the things we both like about the US is how open Americans are. True to form, other couples quickly joined in with some gentle teasing. A little later Cerys was introduced to JD, who was wearing a gorgeous blue satin, tailed corset. JD immediately saw the potential of the situation. For the next hour and a half Cerys was led through a scene of spiralling intensity (the details of which we will shall sadly have to draw a veil over).

Needless to say Cerys had no idea who her new play-mate was. Nor who all the other pairs of friendly hands belonged to. She made more new friends in that couple of hours than during the whole of the rest of the honeymoon…

Having read some of Mistress Feral’s latest reports from vanilla-land in L.A., all we can say is – drive a few hours up the west coast, my dear. The kinksters of San Francisco will welcome you with open arms…

Cerys and Balzac