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Our Evening at the FemDom Ball

If you’d have told me a year ago that I’d be going to a fetish party, I wouldn’t have believed you. However, on a Saturday night earlier this month, that’s exactly where I and two girls I work with were going. Hosted by Madame Caramel as a celebration of female supremacy, the annual FemDom Ball is an elegant evening full of glamour, gowns and domination.

Working at Bondara, we’re hardly strangers to bondage and whips. However, we had no idea what to expect when we accepted our invitations…

Arriving to the Ball

The evening started with us teetering in our heels across London, furiously staring at our phones while Google Maps gave directions. Eventually, we found the secret venue. Two men stood outside and gave us a small nod as we passed. So, out of breath and slightly flustered, we entered the FemDom Ball.

Through the doors, women removed their coats to reveal skin-tight dresses while men pulled masks, hoods and leashes out of bags. We were welcomed by Mistress Evilyne, one of the UK’s most popular Dominatrixes, and her warmth immediately made us feel at ease.

We had been told to ‘dress to impress’ – and we tried – but we paled in comparison to the Mistresses. With perfect make-up, the most beautiful dresses and a natural confidence that dominated the room, it wasn’t hard to see why these women are worshipped. Many were joined by men, all of whom were submissive and stood silently behind them.

Sissy maids – men dressed as women and participating in domestic service play – circled the room with trays of champagne. We took a glass and instinctively thanked them. Were we meant to say thank you? Did it go against the ‘rules’ of submission? We had so much to learn.

Photo credit: FemDom Ball

The Main Evening

One sissy maid found ‘Mistress Annabel, Mistress Charlotte and Mistress Hannah’ on the guest-list and directed us to our table. Throughout the evening, we were entertained with a raffle, pianist, hat show and an erotic dance. Our view was obscured by two slaves standing towards the front. So, a Mistress on our table told her slave, who was dressed as a puppy, to ask them to sit down. When he successfully returned, she praised him with a head scratch.

If it weren’t for the masked men sitting on the floor, giving the occasional foot massage and fetching drinks, you’d be forgiven for thinking this was nothing other than a charity gala; the event raised over £600 for UK charity Backlash.

Next to the dining room was the ‘playroom’; a place where the women and men could have some fun. Slaves were being spanked in all corners of the room, but a crowd was forming in the centre. Intrigued, we joined the group and saw a topless man leaning against the regal fireplace. The unmistakable, cracking sound of a bull whip filled the room as it lashed against his back. As purple marks began to appear on his skin, he didn’t even flinch; the Mistress next to us explained that he had been trained not to.

Heading outside for some fresh air – and to regather our thoughts – a slave approached us. Eager to serve, he offered to act as a footstool or to give a foot rub. After politely declining, we settled for him refilling our wine glasses (that, we couldn’t resist).

Aerial shot of FemDom Ball 2017. Photo credit: FemDom Ball

The After Party

Following an evening of mingling, laughing and sharing stories, people gradually started to leave – we expect to previously booked sessions, back to their hotels or to Madame Caramel’s Hoxton Dungeon Suite. Madame Caramel kindly invited us to the after-party, somewhere we read on the FemDom Ball’s website as a place where “anything goes”. With a mixture of curiosity and excitement, we accepted her invite.

Our taxi dropped us off at an inconspicuous coffee shop. Down a side street and boarded up at the front, we didn’t know what to expect as we stepped inside. We took a deep breath and – oh, it was just an ordinary room, filled with sofas, Mistresses chatting and two servers behind the counter. Slightly bewildered, we awkwardly stood at the side. Then, Madame Caramel approached us and told us that we must come downstairs: “that was where the fun really was”.

Madame Caramel at the FemDom Ball. Photo credit: FemDom Ball

Downstairs…

As Hannah reached the end of the stairs, she turned around and her face said it all. Following her gaze, we were greeted with a half-naked man bent over a bench. Behind him, a Mistress was using the largest strap-on any of us had ever seen and the display was drawing plenty of attention. We learned that the harness had been specially made to support such a weight and size.

Unsure of what to do next, we perched on a bench. Ever the incredible hostess, Madame Caramel asked one of the slaves to pour us champagne. Before he did, she grabbed his crotch, pulled down his leather pants and gleefully unveiled his limp, caged cock.

As the night continued, we watched a man ejaculate over himself, another receive a blow job and the first man we saw progress from the giant strap-on to the best part of an arm. He loved it and consequently asked the room if “anyone else wanted a go”.

Choosing to observe rather than participate, we spoke to some of the Mistresses next to us. As we got deeper into conversations, we became numb to what was happening around the room. A slave sat by our feet with an ice cube slowly melting on his shoulder, another was covered in scars from whippings and a third man told us about his fetish for the 1960s.

The End of the Night

Finally, nine hours after first stepping into the FemDom Ball, we set back to our hotel. It wasn’t until we returned to our room and were sitting on our bed that we realised what we had seen that night. Most of all, we were surprised by how much we enjoyed it.

It was an unforgettable evening that celebrated female supremacy and freedom of sexual expression. We’re already looking forward to next year.

 

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