h2>Dating : The Night I Spent With The Sex Club Owner
For someone with many years’ experience in the kink scene, my club visits could still be counted on one hand. This is a story about one quite special sex club visit — a private one, where it was just me and the guy who owns the place. In case you were wondering — yes, it is spicy.
Back in my home country, a thing like sex club scene is simply nonexistent, so the first time I got remotely close to that was when I moved to Portugal. After living together for a bit, me and my then-partner decided to open our relationship and have sex with other people, solo. Shortly after that moment, I casually started seeing someone and we took this opportunity (we were both expats) to get familiar with the local FetLife community and the club scene, as tiny as it was.
If you’ve read this blog before, you might remember my first visit there. Yup, the unsuccessful-ish MMF threesome where there was too much saliva and too little erection. Well, besides that awkwardness, I really loved the place. It was dark but not TOO dark, cosy and homely. Definitely the opposite of what you might imagine that a fetish club would look like.
During my first few visits at that sex club, I remember spending a lot of my time observing the guy who owns the place (there wasn’t a less creepy way to define this, oops). He was there all the time, greeting you at the door, pouring you drinks and occasionally running around handling condoms and packs of lube and making sure you’re having a good time. To me, he was the filthy, kinky equivalent of Regina George’s mum, and I still find that hilarious.
Now, I don’t know whether it was his physical appearance, his vibe or simply the fact that he owns a sex club (= must be REALLY kinky) but for some reason, I was really attracted to him right from the beginning. He wasn’t particularly my type as he was short, hirsute and (dare I say) not EDGY enough, but there was still something about that man that made me want him. Badly. He was always dressed in a formal way, always friendly to everyone and he had that mischievous smile that simply screamed trouble. Perhaps this is exactly what I wanted — trouble. And my god, did I get it.
Another thing I loved was how confident he was. At that time I was more kinky in the bedroom rather than in public, and I was dying to be able to express myself and talk openly about my kinks. You could say that in a way I wanted to soak up his confidence, become more comfortable in my own skin and embrace my darkest desires, especially when it comes to sex and filth. Who knows, maybe it helped, since a year and a half later I’m as open as I can be, and I find that not only therapeutic but also absolutely liberating.
Sometime after one of these evenings, I had a rather spontaneous moment and decided to message him on FetLife, asking him if he plays with guests too (smooth, I know). I wasn’t sure if he has any idea who I am as I didn’t have any face photos yet, but I kinda liked that part. I guess he liked what he saw anyway because, after three or four messages, he invited me to the club. I was supposed to go there on Thursday around 9 pm when there wouldn’t be anyone else there so we could have a chat and see how it goes. No further plans.
There I was two days later, standing in front of the place at 9 pm on Thursday. My heart was racing and I was completely horrified. I didn’t know him. I didn’t know anyone from the scene in Portugal. He was older, confident, more experienced and, on top of that, he owned the place. I was feeling so small and helpless but at the same time turned on because of it. Without overthinking it anymore I braced myself, took a deep breath and knocked on the door three times.
He left me waiting for a couple of seconds, then opened the door. Looked at me, smiled and kissed me twice on the cheeks. He was intimidating but he was also warm and friendly, so I thought, ‘Maybe I won’t get killed tonight’.
We went inside and I had a quick scan of the place. There was no one else there, the light was dim as always and there was some quiet background music I could barely hear. He wasn’t dressed formally this time, which was a bit disappointing. Instead of that, he was wearing a pair of casual shorts and a t-shirt. Luckily, the mischievous smile was still present. He made me a G&T and invited me (or, more like, told me) to sit down in the chair across him so we could have a chat.
You would be able to tell I’m nervous as fuck from miles away. It was also a hot, hot August, so that added a few extra drops to my already sweaty back. He clearly noticed the tension and asked me about it, to which I was honest and said, ‘Yes, I’m super nervous’. As you could imagine, he quite liked that.
We started chatting about my previous experience, our likes and dislikes and what he’s expecting of me. He was calm and collected, sitting comfortably in his chair, and I could tell he was enjoying having all the control. It was a hunting game and he already had his prey right in his hands. It was only a matter of time until he completely devours it.
Shortly after we sat down, he told me that he will, in fact, have all the control. I’m there just to please him and do whatever he wants and says, and if I’m not okay with that, there’s no point of starting anything.
This is one of the downsides of being in a subby space and dealing with sex addiction at the same time — it’s sometimes hard to figure out whether a situation might actually be dangerous for you. You’re just so hedonistic and stuck in your own thoughts and desires, that you simply accept any outcome, even if the person who’s sitting across you is a complete stranger. I often find myself putting pleasure before anything else and I tend to push my own limits a lot. Once I even went home with a guy who was living in something which was half an apartment building and half a construction site, with no entrance doors and no other people on the floor. I was terrified and turned on at the same time, which acted in favour of my adrenaline flow and against all my self-preservation instincts. Luckily, the worst thing that happened that night was just a bad fuck with a guy who had a massive ego and at the same time lived in a kitchen.
Alright, back to the sex club. As I was nervously sipping my G&T, the guy told me that I will be used purely for his own pleasure and yes, there will be pain. He said he likes it when women cry and asked me if I’m okay with this. I just smiled, nodded slowly and said ‘Yes’.
Then he took my glass, asked what my shoe size is and told me to stand up. Quickly went to one of the rooms and brought back black stockings and high heels for me to wear. Then asked me to undress. I normally absolutely hate being told what to wear but I was so stuck in the moment that I wanted to please him and follow his rules completely. So, without hesitation, I took my clothes off.
He got closer and started walking around me, inspecting every inch of my body, which made the exhibitionist in me burst with joy. He then put the stockings on my legs, slowly rolling them up my thighs as I delicately broke the rules and touched his neck as he was doing it. He was incredibly precise and made sure everything was perfectly positioned, which turned me on. Next step — heels. Now, I absolutely cannot walk in heels and these were incredibly high and uncomfortable. Yet, I did my best to behave and maintain my balance so he’s pleased with me.
After putting the shoes on my feet, he made me put my hands behind my back, spread my legs and look straight, keeping a perfect posture. Then he sat down, rolled a cigarette and started smoking it while looking at me in silence. I had never been that objectified in my life before but, I’ll admit it, I really liked it. Every time I had a quick glance at him, he told me to look straight and not get distracted with anything around. Which, of course, I did.
After staring at me for a while, he reached out to a drawer and grabbed a few pegs and a butt plug. Put two of the pegs on my nipples and the rest of them on my cunt. As he was arranging them, he noticed that I’m already so turned on that I was dripping down my legs — something he clearly enjoyed. Next, he put a condom on the butt plug and put it inside me.
After a few slaps and some good 10 minutes of me sucking his dick, he took me downstairs where the play rooms were. I couldn’t really walk with the high heels so he took my hand and helped me go down the stairs, which was cute, especially considering the fact that I also became taller than him, and I’m never taller than anyone.
A few steps later we were in the middle of the main area where all the play rooms were. He quickly pushed me into the bondage horse and tied my wrists and ankles to it so I couldn’t move. This was actually a real torture because I was too short to be able to take a good position and I had to stand on my tiptoes while still wearing the heels. As you could guess, it was EXTREMELY uncomfortable. I had to remain 100% focused and literally not move at all, otherwise I would have twisted both my ankles in a second.
The ‘not moving’ part became even harder once he started fucking me. He went straight for my asshole, no lube or anything. It was fucking painful and I remember screaming all the time. To be honest, nowadays I secretly enjoy raw, painful anal sex without lube or proper preparation, so maybe that was the moment that unlocked this kink for me.
After he fucked me like that for a while, he untied me and finally let me take off the heels. Having them on for the whole time hurt even more than the painal, and it definitely wasn’t the good kind of pain.
Our next location was the BDSM room, which was the only room that had full equipment. Think of everything from paddles and floggers, to crosses and chairs. He tied me up quickly and threw me on one of the benches. Then he started fucking me again — raw, primal, animalistic fucking that hurt like hell. He didn’t even use anything for support — he simply grabbed the rope on my chest with both hands and fucked me as my body was moving up and down with every thrust. Like an extremely rough and twisted version of crunches, only in this case I had zero control over my own body. A little sex doll with nothing but holes for him to use.
After he got bored, he took me to another room where I was finally allowed to lie down on a real bed. What a relief. He went down on me and then started fucking me again. It was hot, rough and really sweaty — so much that his sweat was dripping in my mouth as he was on top of me. I liked that. At some point it got so intense that I asked him to leave my asshole alone — I just couldn’t take it anymore. He smiled and started fucking my cunt instead, talking to me in Portuguese. Later I found out that he was calling me his slut all the time, which I’m obviously fine with (insert the shrug emoji here).
Shortly after that he came. I liked watching him as he was incredibly expressive and vocal, and it was clear he’s really enjoying his orgasm. As someone who’s also quite primal in bed, I absolutely love it when people immerse in the moment and let their body do whatever it wants, without giving a fuck that the other person might find their reactions weird.
Literally a minute after that we heard a knock on the door upstairs — the first official visitors for the evening were already here. He quickly cleaned up and went off to let them in. That’s when I realised that all my clothes were upstairs and all I had lying around was the dirty cloth we used for sweat and cum… but hey, it was still something. I grabbed it and used it to hide… well, nothing basically — it was literally a dirty square that didn’t have another purpose but to soak up fluids, mess, or perhaps a spilled drink. Pretty much like me that night. I climbed the stairs with it and started getting dressed in front of the two guys who had just walked in, smiling at us as we were two teenagers who just got out of someone’s bedroom at a college party.
I got dressed quickly and left.
It was definitely a night to remember — tons of pain, screaming and all kinds of bodily fluids, multiplied by two. He was so rough with me that I had blood not only from the stingy rope wrapped around my shoulders but also both in and around my pussy and asshole. Yes, this does sound scary but I found it disgustingly adorable — a clear sign that I had fun, and this fun had no limits.
Exactly how I like it.
