She held up a rubber stamp and I held out my hand. But it is that kind of party. A bunch of the writers were supposed to do this back in June and then write about it, but life got in the way and we all had scheduling conflicts and we wound up just not going.
Just a tiny bit of information here: It is run by three professional Dominatrixes and many more are on staff and in attendance. Either way, though, I had not previously been in a dungeon with a large group of relative strangers taking part in any of these activities. So pre-party, I was that strange mix of totally into it and totally intimidated. I think part of my nervous excitement is that I was hoping it would be A Thing.
Something I could write big essays about. How it changed my point of view about sex, or how it opened my mind or changed my life or something like that. That was probably the most remarkable thing: I went to a BDSM party and things happened in front of me that tickled me, delighted me, enlightened me — but no lightning struck. The dungeon looked like a gallery space — sleek wood floors, pictures on the white walls, punched tin ceiling.
She smiled at us and welcomed us. As the party heated up, most of the scenes were started by the professionals — it was nice because I knew I was seeing really solid technique and really adept check-ins.
It actually gave me warm fuzzy feelings to see how often everyone checked in and how sexy they made those check-ins look. There was this one couple flogging, for instance, for what felt like a good 45 minutes — their check-ins included teasing whispers and hair pulls and happened every few minutes.
The Domme had an array of instruments at her disposal — several different floggers, a crop, a whip — and stood in perfect high-heeled contrapposto, like a classic sculpture, while relishing in the selection of her next implement. This scene was a constant verbal and non-verbal dialogue, a back-and-forth of power that was so clearly consensual.
I felt the tension begin to ease a little bit, and this was tension I had made up in my own mind and carried in with me, mind you. The space was just so safe.
It tickled me, the way the top played with fire in one hand and nonchalantly ate a pear with the other. Just playing with fire, here. Her sub was suspended on the St. Everyone was watching her. It was more like concentration. Her brow furrowed, but never did she cry out and the fire left no marks at all. Never once did I, as a voyeur, get nervous. Again, space totally safe. Speaking of, this space is safe for all kinds of people — both of us were super surprised, and pleasantly so, about the crazy diversity we experienced.
It was an extremely racially diverse crowd with a plethora of different body types and ability statuses. The sub here was dressed like she belonged on Sex and The City — little black dress, flawless eyeliner, cute heels.
She kneeled on a chair while the other woman flipped her skirt up to reveal the classiest black thong that I have ever witnessed why have all my thongs been in Barbie pink?
There were lingering red hand prints on her ass cheeks by the time they were through. There was also diversity in the kinds of play we saw — I mentioned the fire, the flogging and the bondage. Both of us were just squeeing about it because they were adorable, and because we were in a space where people can find this sort of relationship cute because consent is the magic word.
Toward the end of the party, the house boi found someone for their Mistress to flog — I heard them talk about it, they were just to my left. The house boi admitted to not wanting to get flogged and negotiated the scene, then put themself in time out.
Time out in this case was a large cage that was also seating, and we were sitting on it to watch the flogging commence. I think part of the deal for the house boi was to watch the flogging. They were very cute about it.
But the thing is, you do. You do belong in this space. If I had to do it over again, we would have jumped right in and talked to even more people, asked even more questions. The professionals were opening the door and inviting others to watch and learn while they were enjoying it. This event is intended for people with any skill level to either observe, learn, join in, find a play partner, meet fellow kinksters and like-minded individuals, be entertained with some eye candy, expand your sexual appetite, or have a wild night.
If you go to this party, just do you. Go only as a voyeur, if you like. They were watching, checking in with those in scenes, answering questions and making sure everything was awesome. We were amazed at how well run this party was. Beginners did start to play, people did start to talk more.
All in a no-pressure environment. We left about an hour before the party ended, super happy, and super ready to recommend Unchained NYC. Afterwards, we talked about it. We talked over every little detail. We must have talked, emailed and texted about it for a solid 24 hours, drifting to other topics, but always coming back to this experience we had just shared.
But the other writer? She allowed herself to be delighted by some of the things she saw, by some of the things she felt. The important part of an event like this is getting to talk about the dynamics, the skills, the atmosphere. So go, if you like, and remain open to experiences. Leave your anxiety at the door and be present. Grab a friend, talk about it, meet new people.
It is also BYOT bring your own toys. Sexy snacks, like pears and strawberries, will be served, along with water.