Service

How A Single Guy Can Find A Swingers Club

· November 24, 2008 · Events, Thoughts · , , , , · 14 Comments

I still have yet to find a swingers party. I have had two invitations in the past but they’ve either conflicted with something else going on or I haven’t had a form of transportation to get there (thank you reader in Miami for the invite).

After reading Calico’s adventures and listening to Mia’s podcast on the subject, I’ve decided to start looking again….casually.

The biggest hurdle of course is the fact that I’m a single man. Most clubs don’t let my kind in. Some will let you in if you pay through the nose.

So how does a single guy get into sex parties and swingers clubs? I posed the question on Twitter and had a few interesting replies and emails:

-Um, grab a girl and go is my only advice.
-I would do a search and post to the site with the greatest activity in your area. Participate in forums.
-The only advice I have is stay away from Le Trapeze.
-Women don’t go to swingers clubs to fuck single men, they go to fuck married men.
-1). find a couple who will vouch for you as a third and enter with you or 2) find parties where single guys can come -but $$$
-It’s easy. Be interesting, unique and engaging. Make friends without asking for anything.

They’re all good ideas. The next time I’m out with a female friend I’ll be sure to talk to people in the most interesting, unique and engaging way and then say, “I’m not asking for anything but if you happen to host a sex party…well…just remember I’m very interesting, unique and engaging”.

Those who emailed their suggestions went into more detail:

-My wife and I have been going to clubs and parties for years. People in the community will never admit to it but we don’t want you to come to our parties. There are more than enough men to go around. Why do you think women get in for free?

-To get into swingers parties…volunteer. A lot of parties I went to had “members” hosting the food, serving as bartenders, etc. And, there was always need for a clean up crew after the event. So, if you can volunteer to help maybe they’ll bend the rules a bit for you!

-You should find a host that would like a slave boy serving people drinks, food and cleaning up after everyone. I’m sure a few of the guests would enjoy other services that you could provide.

That last one actually appeals to me. I enjoy service, plus I might still have that leather bow-tie collar around here somewhere. I’ve created a profile on one such lifestyle website (have yet to pay for a membership) so we’ll see how it goes.

A Testament To Douchebaggery

· November 16, 2008 · Thoughts · , , , , · 44 Comments

I’ve been fighting with myself and others wether or not I should post this. It’s not something I’m proud of. Not my shining moment in the sun to say the least. I’ve decided to post it because I’ve learned something from it:

I answered their ad that mentioned they were looking for a submissive male to perform service for them. It would start out with cleaning and chores with a chance that it would lead to more sexual play.

We exchanged emails a few times, I answered their list of questions and they decided to meet me. I was excited to say the least. Finding not one but two women for service AND play? It seemed too good to be true.

It was too good to be true.

They wanted to meet at a sushi place on the Upper East Side, I arrived ten minutes early. They arrived thirty minutes late.

As soon as we sat down they started asking about me and my search for a dominant. The tall blonde suggested I shouldn’t have moved to New York from the midwest since it wouldn’t be any easier for me to meet anyone here. She said it as though she was bringing something to light that I didn’t know.

We briefly talked about what growing up on a farm was like. After I mentioned the fact that my father had to sell some his land, the blonde said “NO! Never sell land! That’s just not smart. You never sell land!”. She was pretty much calling my father an idiot. As though he had a choice in the matter. As though he had options.

“Yeah, I’ll be sure to tell him that when I talk to him next”, I said politely as I could while being sarcastic.

They asked about my friends in the lifestyle. The tall blonde assumed I had been to a professional. I told her I had never been but I did have friends who are.

“What are their names? I have a beef with a few Pro Dommes”

“I’d rather not say. I don’t feel comfortable name-dropping. and I don’t think they’d appreciate me using their names as a reference without asking them first.” She looked angry and I added “If it’s a deal breaker, I understand”. The last thing I wanted was to get a call from a friend saying “Why is this nutjob calling me?”

I was then asked what my budget was for dinner.

“Um. Nothing? I’m sorry, I didn’t know you wanted me to pay for dinner. I won’t be eating anything since I’m tight on cash. I’m sorry for the misunderstanding.”

I was then told that it was a given that I would pay. “It’s just good manners”, the tall blonde said.

Later the brunette would tell me that she had never been on a date with a man who didn’t pay. She looked at me with disapproval.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know this was a date. I thought this was more of an interview for possible service. If you want me to go to the ATM and get twenty bucks I will”.

“See? That’s just rude. Then you’re putting the responsibility on me to say yes or no. You should just offer to do it”.

At that point I was glad that I didn’t go and get some cash. I was torn. I was trying to give them the benefit of the doubt as I hoped they were giving me. Maybe they were having a bad day or maybe they really hated me for some reason.

We talked about my experience with service. I mentioned my positives and negatives (folding fitted sheets). I mentioned how I wasn’t looking for play in return for service, that I’m not the type to make mistakes on purpose in hopes of being punished. If they wanted to play that would be great but I wanted them to know I enjoy service for the sake of pleasing. They seemed semi-interested but it was hard to read them. I mention that I was looking for someone who liked the idea of a man in service to them and not someone who didn’t care who did it as long as it got done.

We parted ways and I emailed them to thank them for their time and wished them luck on their search if they weren’t interested in me.

One of them replied saying: “I found you to be rude and cheap and your presence ruined my meal. It was a testament to charity and patience that I did not leave sooner.”

Oh? And what is it a testament to that you would send such an response to someone who just thanked you for your time?

I’m wondering why I didn’t just leave earlier. Why didn’t I excuse myself the second I realized they were not what I was looking for? Why did I give them the benefit of the doubt? It seemed clear fifteen minutes into it that they weren’t interested. Why do I consistently find myself in these situations and never learn to avoid them? The warning signs are there. I just need to open my eyes. Or not block my eyes with my cock.

It’s been a while since this happened. I’m not angry at them anymore nor am I hurt by the experience. I’m willing to accept blame for this one. I should have made it clear that I was in no position to pay for their meal before meeting them. We’re still living in a universe where some women will feel I need to pay them for the right to clean for them.

There are some dominant women who use their dominance as an excuse to treat men like they’re a dime a dozen (probably because we’re a dime a dozen).

The most rewarding service I’ve ever performed was to someone who required me to bring a receipt for anything I bought while in service. It was clear that my service was the important thing, not my money. I was providing what they saw was the most valuable thing possible: my sweat, dedication and sincerity.

The most rewarding sexual relationships I’ve had have been from those who wanted to be with me for my body or for my mind (sometimes both). Once again it was my sweat, dedication and sincerity that they valued most.

Submissive Or Slave?

· October 18, 2008 · Events · , , , , , , , · 20 Comments

I had an interesting yet frustrating conversation with someone who questioned why I call myself submissive and not a slave.

For those of you that don’t know, there always seems to be a big argument in the BDSM community over who should call themselves submissive and who should call themselves a slave. Frankly I stopped giving a shit what people call themselves long ago.

The conversation went something like this:

Dominant guy: God… you should use the slave title. You are obviously looking for a service oriented position to where the Dominant in return gives you structure and stability. The only worry that you SHOULD have is serving your Master.

Me: Most Dommes seem to want a submissive in the bedroom but a vanilla guy outside of it.

Dominant guy: Stay away from the submissive title. It scares Masters like me away. Haha

Thankfully I’m not interested in a dominant guy so it really doesn’t matter if it scares away masters (lowercase on purpose) like him. It’s funny how that works though, dominant guys seem to be more interested in D/s than dominant women. I’ve been to a number of D/s oriented events, the last one I went to had maybe 50 gay couples, 50 Dominant male/submissive female couples, a few lesbian couples and two dominant women/male submissive couples.

Many dominant women have expressed to me their desires for a “submissive sometimes in the bedroom but my equal outside of it”. That’s the reason I shy away from calling myself a slave. It scares women off. Not only that, since I’ve pretty much given up on finding anything other than casual play, more and more women seem comfortable with someone who just submits to them in the bedroom. I’m all for that. Sure there’s a part of me that craves D/s, but the part of me that is dying to try out new things in the realm of BDSM overrides the part of me that needs D/s.

I’d rather be a submissive with a chance of getting fucked and toyed with than a slave who’s got no chance in hell.

I’m even cautious about mentioning my interests in D/s when someone asks me what I’m into since that’s enough to scare some off. I should maybe only qualify it by saying “look, someday, if I met someone who wanted to own me outside the bedroom, then great. But right now I’m only looking for casual play”.

Here’s another example from someone after she discovered D/s was something I enjoy:

“Yikes, are you someone that lives the lifestyle 24/7? Im not really down with that. I love sex with down right perversion, but Im not looking to own anyone…thats too heavy for me.”

It took me a while to convince her that I was perfectly happy just having sex with perversion but my interests in D/s may have cost me a one night stand with someone who enjoys things I’m dying to try.

So maybe I am a slave if that’s someone who enjoys D/s outside the bedroom. If that scares you away then I’m submissive. If that scares you away then I’m just kinky. If that scares you away then I’m just jerking off at home.

Why I Canceled On You

· April 21, 2008 · Thoughts · , · 5 Comments

I read this post about a dominant woman who’s date flaked out on her. I’ll admit, I’ve canceled on women once or twice, but not due to a lack of interest.

It was because of my priorities.

One time in particular:

I had admired her long legs from afar for a very long time and after a few drinks we started talking. It was casual and relaxed. Somehow we got on the subject of sex and dating.

I could tell she was vanilla. I could just tell. Not vanilla in a bad way. Just vanilla, but her legs and body were too much for me to resist. My mouth was watering.

I pushed the conversation a bit further, after all, she was ‘nilla and in this situation, I was the more experienced of the two sexual players. I was confident because I had nothing to lose. Worst case scenario, I’d miss out on vanilla sex.

Missing out on vanilla sex is like missing out on a rerun of Seinfeld on TV. You know you’ll get another chance to see it very soon if you want to.

She had go run off with her friends but we exchanged phone numbers.

Two nights later I was on my way to her apartment. She wanted to call my bluff when I said I’d be happy to go down on a woman and not get anything in return..

I was early (I’m an eager beaver) and sat in a starbucks to relax for a bit.

One of my best friends sent me a text message. She needed my help. She needed emotional support and she needed it now.

I know if I had told her my situation she would have understood and met me later. In fact she probably would have encouraged me, but I couldn’t do that.

I told her I was on my way and not to worry.

I sent the woman with the legs a text apologizing and trying to explain the situation. I tried to contact her the next day but never heard from her again.

I still wonder what it would have been like if I did meet up with her. I know it wouldn’t have been more than a fling.

Friendships, good ones, last a lifetime.

I’m usually the go-to guy for a lot of people. I like being that guy. Most weeks are usually filled with helping friends with one thing or another.

This week is no different.

-Setting up a webpage for someone

-Helping someone buy a new computer

-Moving a couch from one apartment to another.

-Possibly setting up shelves for another friend.

-Troubleshoot why one friend can’t keep a wireless connection at her work.

I’m sure if my friend learned that I had passed up the opportunity for sex to console her she would have scolded me, told me I should have just sent her a text later. How do you do that? How do you deny a friend in need?

One person I know says I need to focus more on myself than others. She says I help my friends as a way to avoid focusing on myself.

Eh, who knows. I know this week is full. Maybe I’ll start focusing on myself next week.

Sperm Donor

· March 4, 2008 · Thoughts · , , · 24 Comments

I’m still in a bit of a haze after I was asked a very important and heartfelt question this weekend.

One of my best friends asked me if I would be a sperm donor.

My first thought was flattery of course.

The next thought was “will it be the natural way?” (she and I haven’t ever crossed that line so I was curious..plus I’m a perv)

She laughed when I asked this and said “No, but if it helps I’ll spank you while you cum in the cup”.

One of the first questions I asked was…why me?

She had narrowed it down to a few people but I was on the top of the list. Her reasons?

“You have good genes, you’re healthy, you’re tall, you’re attractive. I figure if it’s a girl, she’ll be tall and beautiful, if it’s a boy he’ll be tall, attractive and have a good sized cock”.

More flattery.

“Plus, you’re a good person.” (Person shmerson, I was still surprised she thought I had a good sized cock, not to mention that it would be a factor in picking a possible biological father)

She made it clear that the physical characteristics were only a small part of if. It’s who I am that made her ask me.

I’m still amazed and flattered she would ask.

On one hand I really want to help my friend, not just because she’s a dominant woman, but because she’s my friend and I want her to be happy.

On the other hand, when a woman asks “Do you have any kids?”, how would I answer?

“Well, I don’t have any kids, but I did ejaculate in a cup once and a doctor did put it inside my friends vagina, and that did make a baby come out. But other than that…no….no kids.”

I don’t know what I’ll decided. She and I have a lot of things to discuss. I have a lot of things to consider.

It would be the ultimate form of service I suppose and it would make my friend extremely happy.

I keep going back and forth, my mind is still spinning on this one. I can think of a million reasons to do it and a million reasons not to. All of the reasons not to seem like selfish reasons.

I don’t like feeling selfish, yet it’s a common thread lately.

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