Sweet As Whole // 0:42 – 1:02

Categories: Club D, feral musings

And it turns out I’m actually kind of a bitch. But that only happens when I get provoked by some piece of shit asshole we all sadly know. And I sit and I write while reminding you all that mean songs are still better than going postal.” – Sara Bareilles

After a pretty fun and I’d say successful 7 or 8 months of hanging out at Club G pretty much every single weekend, we’ve made a shitload of friends. J & I both have never felt so at ease in such a sea of people, whether we know them or not. We’re constantly meeting & talking to new people, something we struggled like a mother fucker to do in any other social situation we’ve found ourselves in.

But unfortunately because of the culture of our country & the lack of any real sex education to be found, sometimes we (I) stumble across shitty people. Especially outside of a lifestyle club environment, but as I’ve mentioned before because of what the club offers once in awhile an asshole acts like not an asshole long enough to cause a little chaos.

When it comes to sexual education, consent was not something generally talked about in public school sex education when I was growing up. Not to the extent it should have been touched upon anyway. We learned what everything looked like & how it worked, we learned how to properly put condoms on a banana & we learned that if we got pregnant, we were fucked in every sense of the word. I don’t recall there ever being a concrete, no frills discussion around what consent is, why it matters and how to use it.

Club D goes above and beyond (in my opinion) in trying to educate new members about consent and the general expected behavior at the club. I know I’ve described it like a slutty piece of paradise, which it is, but paradise quickly descends into hell if there isn’t a general understanding about what’s allowed & when.

You’re allowed four visits to feel the vibe of the club & it’s people out before you’re required (male, female, couples, everyone) to sit in on the orientations. I’ve talked about it previously and was highly impressed with how well it was done.

Wow, that’s a lot of boring shit to have to sit through to be apart of what sounds like a raging fuck fest.

It’s really not. And if you can’t sit for an hour and listen to someone basically give you the laws of the land you’ve been so lucky as to stumble on to, you really don’t deserve to be there & are likely a future threat just waiting to fuck up someone’s night.

When I think of people who shoulda paid more attention to orientation (most definitely attended & absorbed the information from both the singles & couples orientation) a couple interaction I’ve had come to mind.

The two examples I have from personal experience of how I have handled having someone not understand the word “no” in the past, one was correct & one I took a teensy bit too far.

One evening, at the very start of us attending the club I’d stumbled down to the orgy room with two lovely ladies. With only thoughts of diving face first into the wondrous space between their legs floating through my brain I neglected to clock the creepy guy leering from the corner of the room at first, but boy howdy – he clocked my distraction & focus on the ladies I was taking down there immediately.

I don’t know what it is about people thinking if they see someone fucking they can just…join in. Unannounced and uninvited. I’m gonna go out on a limb & say it’s probably that lack of understanding consent sprinkled with a pinch of not ever being taught basic respect for other people. This guy so happened to assume that since I was rolling around on the bed with two women, it was an invitation to do as he pleased.

He would quickly find out he was very wrong about that assumption.

Unbeknownst to my muff mesmerized ass, he stood behind me while I went to town on one lady, deafened by the grip of her luscious thighs to the world around me. Eventually, the little blood that remained in his brain must have flown to his feeble cock & he decided it was a great idea to stick his fingers in my pussy.

I don’t know about you guys, but if I’m with someone already, male or female and you interrupt me? Throw off my flow and rhythm? I’m gonna be pissed off. I whipped around ready to scream the face off of whoever had just shoved their sand-pappery digits into my snatch, to be met with the sight of a couple. The woman looked…lost & he looked like the dictionary definition of a sexual predator. Creepy, mask-like smile plastered on his face, body language that sent off alarm bells in my head, the whole nine. I immediately told him “no, not interested. Quit fucking with me.” & then glanced at the woman standing sheepishly beside him. Technically, in this part of the club at least, she was partly at fault. No single men can go down into the dungeon without a female escort. Coupled or not. I informed her to keep a better eye on the man she was with or take him out of the area. He’s come off his leash & you need to smack the fucker with a newspaper if that’s what gets him to knock this shit off.

I turned around, smiled plastered on my face once again, thinking that the annoying pussy grabbing piece of shit dealt with, I was ready to dive back in. Just as I got back into have that lovely FUPA plopped on top of my forehead, working my way towards tongue and finger-fucking this gorgeous woman’s soul out of her body, Dipshit McGee decides he didn’t hear me the first time & shoves his mummified feeling fingers right on back in my poor, unguarded cunt.

Alright, I was done here.

I stood up, ripping his fingers out as I did & walked straight outside to find someone who could help me report this fucker to the proper security folks. I found Han who quickly ushered me over to Mr. Bubbles (our security guy) who took me downstairs to point the guy out so he could have a talk with him about what’s acceptable behavior at our establishment.

Totally killed my boner for the evening, but the fact it was dealt with so seamlessly once the people in charge were made aware of the situation made me feel 10000% better about what had happened & I continued on partying, enjoying the rest of my night.

I heard tales later of how Dipshit McGee continued to push his luck with other people hanging out at the club that night. His woman & him were pretty quickly kicked out & banned so far as I know. If you’re still willing to fuck around & find out after Mr. Bubbles has to take time outta his night to tell you to stop being a fuckin’ asshole, you deserve whatever ya get.

The other incident that I handled not-so-well was more recently. I had been talking to my friend Bear outside that evening & was well into my 6 pack of beer. A stunningly beautiful woman sat down next to me and struck up a conversation. I was into it until she wouldn’t stop touching me & grabbing my face (without any sort of “hey can I do this/hey would you like to _____” before hand). Had that occurred, the reaction she would have gotten from me would have been much different and far more pleasant. Between her touchy tendencies & seeming not to know how to give a sincere compliment to save her life, I wasn’t interested & I told her as much.

She didn’t take it well. Or rather, she didn’t take it all? It was like every time I told her to stop she thought I was playing coy when it was obvious I was getting progressively more fed up. To the point where Leia, who had been sitting at the table with us saw what was coming next and quietly made her exit to do her Sexy Velociraptor rounds inside, away from the incoming way of bullshit I was riding.

I continued to blow her off, asked AND told her to stop several times & finally took up refuge in Bear’s chest, drunkenly begging HIM to talk sense into her since nothing I said had worked so far. She tried one more time to dip her greedy little hands between my legs or twist my head to face her so she could sloppily try to plant an unwanted kiss on me and I sorta…snapped.

I had done all the steps correctly (tell ’em no, tell ’em fuck off, etc) EXCEPT for getting up and grabbing Mr. Bubbles. I was hoping this lady would just get the idea of her own accord, but that ship had clearly sailed.

I stood up and grabbed my beer bottle. I calmly told her if she touched me again, whatever she touched me with was getting smacked with said bottle. She tried to whine to me about my choice to be done with her silly ass. I was far past done, this had cross the threshold of obnoxious behavior long ago.

As she continued trying to make excuses for her shit behavior, I couldn’t think of anything else to do in the moment, I was so frustrated and annoyed. At the top of my lungs, for god and every pervert in a 2 mile radius to hear, I screamed for her to leave me the fuck alone. I’m sure I looked like a complete fuckin’ crazy person to everyone outside.

Which of course was loud enough to alert the Mr. Bubbles inside. He came barreling out & scolded us both & told us to scatter as Bear told me nicely to put the damn bottle down & The Grabby Bitch scurried back inside.

That was the WRONG way for me to do that and I instantly knew I’d fucked up. Some people run away when shit gets too much, some freeze & panic. I tend to lean towards fight, especially if I feel like I’ve done nothing to receive whatever negative attention it is I’m dealing with.

I’m working on it.

Realizing my part in the fuck up, I stumbled back inside & found Mr. Bubbles. I apologized as sincerely as I could while having to scream it over the pumping music of the bar. Screaming is chill, but threatening folks with beer bottles is NOT kosher. I knew better and I shouldn’t have reacted that way. I made it his problem WAY too late for him to properly do his job. That much was definitely on my shoulders for not having handled properly.

I went back outside and again tried to keep on enjoying what was left of my night, hoping I wasn’t going to have to stand in front of board members & explain why I threatened to pop another club attendee upside the head with what would be considered a weapon.

The next evening at Game Night, a friend filled me in on how the rest Grabby Bitch’s evening went down since she continued to same shtick with a lady who is notorious for only rarely playing with ANYONE at the club & was simply ignored by her as she grooved to the music on the dance floor.

I guess I hurt her feeling pretty bad with not wanting her to grope/grab me and she walked back into the club to loudly protest “that none of these bitches wanna fuck.” And that “the bitch who runs the outside* is a prude.” Her next would-be conquest after me literally DANCED away from her anytime she tried her nonsense & she still felt like everyone else was the problem.

I don’t want to embarrass anyone** by telling you guys these stories. I want to use them to prove a point that if you go into this type of situation without an understanding of basic consent, but with the expectation that it’s just a giant orgy for the 6 – 10 hours the club is open where you can fuck anyone you please, you’re gonna fuck it up for yourself and possibly everyone you interact with that night. And if you don’t get the hint when it’s given, to correct course, you likely won’t continue to have access to fuck up other people’s good time. You and anyone you’re with is gonna get the boot & told to kick rocks.

In the same turn, no one worth fucking wants to fuck someone who can’t listen to basic instructions while everyone’s clothes are still on because how are you going to trust that person later on, in any sexual interaction, to listen if you choose to revoke consent/want to stop for whatever reason? You really can’t.

Don’t be that type of human, folks. It’s not worth the short term gratification you’re after to fuck up your long term ability to show up at such a cool place and have a great night.

*I don’t run a goddamn thing, I just like being slutty in the same places I can smoke at.

**If I did, I’d be FAR more descriptive of the people in the situations I’m describing.