Skin Two Rubber Ball
we were there
So last weekend I had my first big fetish club virginity taken away from me, and it was a surprisingly pleasant, well-to-do experience and nothing like the dark sordid sleaze-fest I (secretly) hoped for.
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It was a joyfully mixed affair in terms of age and sexuality, with grannies who couldn’t give a shit beside old school leather queens, while the odd insecure heterosexual guy clung fearfully to his dominatrix girlfriend. Gender was completely deconstructed and reconstructed with the full on all-in-one rubber outfits, the kind that would feature in a Leigh Bowery wet dream; body shapes distorted out of recognition, with limbs pumped up and blown out of all proportion. Some choice numbers were the massive inflated rubber red wave of hair, with matching blow-up dog to boot. It was all so cute.
I don’t know what I was afraid of as the dungeon was infact a well lit fairground-esque ride, with couples lining up to give eachother a good, old fashioned spanking. The fashion shows were a mix of rubber routines, whip lashing and ultra femme burlesque. I don’t think I’m quite up to taking my mother along, but you never know who you’re bumping into.
Photo: Jerome Nadau