Attendance at the Bondage Club was pretty thin (it's summer; it's the weekend of the Renegades Run). But, I managed to tie up a nice man I met and not embarass myself too badly.

After the Bondage Club is finished with the meeting, things revert to being a sex club. Street clothes are fine for the Bondage Club, but at 11 pm, if you want to stay for the sex club, you must check your clothes.

As 11 pm approached, I was thinking I'd pack it in. Maybe stop off at the Spiegel Eagle for a beer and to enjoy a cigar on their roof deck. Or maybe just head home and go to bed. I pondered. I decided to check my clothes and spend just a little time at El Mirage, just to see if anything interesting happened.

Well.

Tonight was the most fun I've ever had at El Mirage. I connected with some really hot men. The synopsis would be: I ploughed a really hot boy. Then I ploughed another really hot boy. Then I watched as two hot men I had been checking out all night took turns ploughing a very hot boy. And then, (hang onto your hats, I'm switching metaphors!) all that scratching was makin' me itch. And I saw this big galoot throwing a mean powerful fuck to one of my earlier playmates. I really liked Galoot's way: he was all about talking to, stroking, acknowledging. I got his attention, we kissed and tweaked for a little bit, and then I swung my ass around so he could figure out what I was after. He did, and was only too happy to oblige.

Now, he had a really big dick. And I have a really tight ass. It took a little while for him to get in, but once he was we were home free. I bent over and took it like a man.

But again, it was so nice tonight. No (ahem.) performance problems. I held up just fine. Everyone I played with seemed very friendly. Such a nice time.

After I was played out (thanks to Galoot), I headed to Manatus to get some food.

Whilst sitting there, reading Geoff Mains' book, a thought occurred to me:

Is S/M a matter of bait and switch?

What do I mean by that? Think about it. I think what draws most people to kink is a rape fantasy of some stripe or another. You want to be forced. Or, in the alternative, you want to force. So that's what you want to happen, but somehow you end up doing a Safe Sane and Consensual scene involving clothespins. Wha' happened? Where did that come from? I'm willing to believe that not everyone on the planet is subject to rape fantasies, but I refuse to believe that there has ever been a twelve year old out there jerking off and thinking, "I wish my Math teacher Mr. Fogarty would tie me up and put clothes pins all over me so I get a good endorphin rush."

Now this all raises a lot of questins. Why rape fantasies? Are they symptomatic of repressed sexual desire? And what happens to those rape fantasies after you find yourself in pursuit of bondage and clohespins? Are they replaced? Are they subsumed? Are they repressed?

Anyway, I'll sleep on that. Now it's time to walk my dog.

No softball tomorrow, darn it. The other team had problems getting players together and forfeited. That's two more wins for us, but not the kind of winning I'd prefer. And, I'm sorry to say I'm missing softball next week when we play the Wings, the team sponsored by the Spiegel Eagle. So it will be three weeks before I next play softball.

Drat.