Kinky London: KlubSpankz

Fortunately, Ryanair’s strike of last Thursday didn’t affect my flight, so I left Dublin at the scheduled time and after a bus trip from Luton, I was standing in the surroundings of Victoria station before noon. Eyes wide open looking people around, I was just breathing the scent of the big city. Yeah, Dublin is great, a big welcoming town with lovely music and cheerful people, a great place to live, but I’m a guy of big cities and the anonymity that they bring. I’m a lone wolf that enjoys social gatherings as well as moments of being alone in my thoughts and feelings.

This month indeed had passed 20 years since the first and only time I was in London. A time that I came with my brother and we visited a few places, putting my incipient English to the test. I had my time to revisit the places I visited then, it was symbolic, I wanted to see how the city had changed, refresh my memories with London 2.0. But I also wanted to enjoy the gay kinky London.

Indeed, what made me decide to visit the city a bondage and spank workshop that was going to take place on Saturday during the Fetish Week London event. I’m not as confident as Dom as I am as sub, quite insecure still, having learned as ‘trial and error’, with its successes as well as failures. I was encouraged by a great guy to attend the workshop, so I thought it could turn to be a great learning experience, given the trust I had and, in my opinion, high-standards I was considering that would be at play.

But it was Thursday, just landed in city centre, so the first thing was visiting Regulation and spend all my budget in a few things I had in my wish list for long time, including some last-minute decision of buying some rubber, for Friday’s rubber party. In the past all my rubber ended being destroyed due to my poor maintenance skills, so I got great tips to maintain rubber from some guys I had the pleasure to meet and greet during the weekend: the ‘dressing’ liquid that makes it easier than talc, the shining one, and after party, cleaning with soap, drying, and put it soaked with silicone lube in a bag and store.

After the pleasure of shopping, hotel check-in, and tried in the privacy of my room the new stuff, freeing up some of the tension in my balls.

I decided to visit the KlubSpankz. I was very hungry of a good flogging session, as last one had been in March when I had great spanking time with my Master, and my back and ass hadn’t felt anymore the cuddle of a single flogger stripe. An unexpected event after the trip to Barcelona had left me a bit ‘unbalanced’, leaving my self-esteem like hit by a torpedo, and while the wounds had been quite licked already, I felt the need for a cathartic spanking session that would restore my balance. So, I brought in my playing bag a pair of floggers, a gag and restraints in case that I would find a trustful one, otherwise I could be myself the one spanking a willing sub.

I found myself going down a basement very close to King’s Cross. It reminded me a bit of the old cruise bar La Base in Barcelona, the first one: small, smell of sex and sweat on the walls and in the dark corners… and a nice St Andrew’s cross that caused me a hard on as I was seeing myself there.

I found something extraordinary at the bar, just in front of the gorgeous young bartender – cold Guinness draft beer! Not the usual warm beer from Ireland, just the tasty Guinness but… cold! I’ve never found it in Dublin, mental note saved for looking for that light blue label. I was enjoying it while I was watching someone very talented and exceptional having made a superb bondage pattern to a nice guy, using the cane in a rhythmic style that I noted mentally, and finally undoing the pattern in a quick and erotic way, keeping all the time the sub in ‘friction’.

When you watch someone so confident and skilled, you know it’s going to be a great experience. But if you see that gleam of the soul in the eyes, then you know he will drive you into heaven and have an unforgettable trip of sexual ecstasy and deep connection. And I saw it in his, so my inner child was shouting ‘Me too, me too, please please!!!‘. I try not to be pushy, but maybe my eyes were betraying me… and still perceived pushy at the experienced eyes, but it’s fine, I’m human and the flesh is weak… and my cock was hard.

Even though, I know how’s being in that side, as I’ve been so many years in fisting, with I would say a good reputation as people seems to fly high with me. In can happen in those cases that some guys end literally waiting his turn to play, being there to ensure they are not missing their turn. While this is indeed flattering, and my ego gets a rush, it can really be tiring and drain the energy, leaving this feeling of emptiness at the end of the night, like you have just been a fisting machine greasing assholes in an assembly line.

As advised by a great Dom and friend from Oslo: always do what you feel you want to do. So if I play, it’s not feeling forced and pushed into it, but because I really enjoy, not thinking that much of trying to please everyone, which indeed is impossible.

So, I learned to stop making big plans, going with no expectations and if any plan is cancelled, it’s fine, there’s nothing dramatic on going for something different and enjoy how the events develop. And if the great amazing guy is now tired, a long chat with a beer is also fine, and why not, offering a hand massage for having put that much care and passion in making someone happy. At the end, what matters is ending feeling energised and fulfilled, and fulfilled not necessarily means fulfilled by a big fist or by a long bondage session.

It was my perfect start for the Fetish Week London. And I got my needed catharsis on the St Andrew’s cross. I am extremely grateful.