She tells me that TG is the tamer side of the fetish community. In the medical room – where, to be honest, not much was going on, apart from the odd medical dummy getting a good feeling up – I meet US-based professional dominatrix Mistress Dee. With all that flogging go on, it’s good to see TG are prepared for every eventuality. Not that I believe overstaying one’s welcome is possible in a fetish club.Įveryone, so it seems, is welcome to do whatever they so wish, as long as it’s consensual.ġ8 thoughts all women secretly have about sexĪs we leave, I hold the double doors open for a man dressed like a member of St John Ambulance. Not wishing to overstay our welcome, we moved on. He’d probably have a cracking good time as well. In fact, my angry, middle-aged father would’ve probably fitted in with his penchant for ‘the slipper’ whenever me and my sister stepped out of line. It was, as my dad would say, an eye opener.
But people weren’t bothered.Īnd as you stood on the sidelines you could make out the little clusters of bodies in the corners, groping at one another, reaching under latex skirts, kneading fleshy shoulders, whispering their fantasies into the ears of their loved ones as others’ played out in front of their eyes. Grown, greying men are pulled around on leashes and large indomitable, statuesque women call the shots as they yank the chain and their dog-for-a-night comes cantering behind them. If Vivienne Westwood designed fetish gear (Picture: )
