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Trying a bit of Power Exchange Print E-mail
Written by Cerys   
Thursday, 21 August 2003
And when a friendly person found a few nightlights in Heaven, the hot wax could come into play... Cerys checks out the Winchester Power Exchange Balzac has now disappeared off to Australia for week, but before he left, I could feel the need for some serious play. However the LFS calendar was a bit of a desert. Nobody in London seems to want to compete with Rub, but while Rub is good for hanging out with the beautiful people, it tends to be too busy for much playing. Then Fuschia reminded me about the Power Exchange – an easy drive down to Winchester from south London (mysteriously, this had failed to make its way into the calendar…) Just the thing. So, having loaded up the car with whips, chains and other necessities of a good night out, we set off down the motorway. And yes, it is an easy journey – the club starts a bit earlier and ends by two, so you can happily drive down for the evening. Or I’m told there are some fetish-friendly B&B’s there too. You do need to let them know in advance that you’re coming, however, as there’s a guest list only on the door.

The Power Exchange takes over a good-sized pub, which the rest of the time has a gay clientele. Its beer garden is ideal on a warm night – it’s not overlooked by any of the neighbours, so you can sit outside in your rubber frock. Last Saturday was Heaven and Hell, with the two bars divided accordingly – and a yummy supply of white chocolate buttons in Heaven… maybe I’m childish like that, or maybe it’s just that playing sharpens my appetite. The games room had been transformed into a dungeon and the Power Exchange has now acquired a good collection of kit, including crosses and whipping benches and a large iron cage.. Most ingeniously, a large padded cover had been fixed over the pool table, converting it into a torture bed. More of that later.

The Power Exchange has now gathered a following from all over the south of England – there were people from as far away as Bristol and the south-west. And all very friendly too, which was lovely, as us Londoners often get a cool welcome when we venture to other cities to play. People had really gone for the theme too, with lots of wings (to say nothing of horns and tails!) on display, and a bit of a competition for the best outfit.

Back to that table. Balzac has a taste for tight bondage and torture, and the raised padded bed was just perfect for a few experiments I wanted to try. With good lighting overhead (but nice and gloomy elsewhere) you almost felt you were putting on a performance. And when a friendly person found a few nightlights in Heaven, the hot wax could come into play too. At any rate, it should give Balzac something to distract him on those long plane journeys.

By one o’clock, I was just about ready to crash on one of the sofas in Hell (with Balzac limp at my feet). There was a bit of a minor medical emergency and we all had to tuck ourselves discreetly away from the ambulance men – yes even those with a taste for flashing lights and paramedics in uniform. By that time, we were just about ready to dash back up the motorway anyway. But I can definitely say that we’ll be back.

 
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