I tentatively entered the restaurant, dressed innocuously in a short sleeve, light blue, button-down shirt and plain khakis. As I scanned the place, I saw two large, glass doors separating a private room from the rest of the diners. I walked over and peered in, hoping to recognize any faces that I had seen on the internet. As I stood there, blatantly conspicuous to those inside, I was noticed and several heads turned towards me. One of them, a tall, blonde lady in very smart business attire, rose from her seat, came to the door and opened it.
“Can I help you?” she asked with a polite smile underneath a scrutinizing set of eyes.
I swallowed hard. “Uh, yeah...” I managed as I broke into a light sweat. “Is...is this the meeting?”
The lady’s polite grin developed a slightly wicked tint. “We’re enthusiasts,” she returned.
“I’m enthusiastic,” I said moronically.
They must have been used to people arriving at the munches for the first time more than a little nervous and unsure. She merely shifted her stern smile back into a more friendly one and invited me in.
“Who are you?” she asked as she directed me toward an empty chair.
“Uh...I’m Ignite35.”
“Is that what you’d like to be called?”
I considered the question. Was she suggesting that I could offer my real name? Or was she asking if my username was merely what was available despite how I preferred to be addressed by those that I slept with? Should I tell her that I wanted to be called, “Master Apollo”, or something equally as contrived? After quick consideration, I decided to just let my screen name represent me for the time being, just in case the whole thing turned out to be a bad idea.
The entire room greeted me simultaneously with an array of friendly smiles, suspicious glares, curious gazes and condescending once-overs. I took the empty seat I had been motioned to. Directly across the table from me sat a well-dressed man, slightly older than myself, and about my size, though a bit thinner, with two pretty, young women, one on each side.
“Is it okay if I sit here?” I asked.
“That depends,” the man said as he sized me up. “Are you going to behave yourself?”
“Oh, of course,” I assured him. I glanced at each of the girls and took more from his meaning. “I’m cool.”
He smiled. It wasn’t unfriendly, but it was slightly cautionary at the same time. “Then you’re fine.”
“Okay, everyone,” the tall blonde lady said, “the server will be back in a moment to take our orders. Until then, just for a couple of new people, why don’t we all introduce ourselves? Be sure to give your screen name. Real name is optional. And, ideally, tell us all how you identify.”
Everyone took turns telling me, and another, apparently new, guy wearing a biker jacket, who they were, rattling off odd internet pseudonyms with the occasional touch of kink, names like Sluttypixie, Lord Solomon, The Ghost of Christmas Fuck, Mother of Creation and Gentlista. Each followed their names with a title which defined their sexual interests to some extent: slave, Dominant, hedonist, switch, sadist and a few others I wasn’t completely certain how to comprehend. When it got to the trio across from me, the girl to the man’s right introduced herself as Tinkerbrat. She had light brown, bobbed hair and fidgeted a lot. She was petite, cute and in her early twenties. The man went next.
“I’m known as Dramatic Comedy on the website. You can call me D.C. I’m a Dom, and Tink is my girl.” He then turned to the young lady on his left and added, “And so is this one.”
In extreme contrast to Tinkerbrat, the other girl was painfully quiet and still. I noticed that she kept her eyes focused on the table, refusing to look at anyone. She looked shy and nervous, uncomfortable even. She was beautiful, pale, with long blonde hair, svelte and appeared to be barely eighteen, though I would later learn that she was actually twenty-six.
“Go ahead,” D.C. told her.
“I’m Posie,” she said softly, her eyes still locked onto the table.
The tall blonde commandeered the floor again, saying, “I’m Mistress Christina.” She then emphasized an alternative spelling of “Xina,” after which she changed track, noting that the server was on their way back to the room and that we should employ some temporary discretion.
As the server entered and began taking everyone’s orders, I examined my neighbors. Both Tinkerbrat and Posie wore the same necklaces, black chokers with silver charms dangling from them. As I continued to study them, Tink gave me a big, overly-amused smirk, while Posie continued to, steadfastly, focus on the table. I began to wonder if she was there against her will. D.C. just continued to stare at me with a friendly smile that was still, somehow, unnerving.
It was at that moment that the waiter caught my attention and asked for my order. As I had yet to look at the menu, I decided to keep it simple for the purpose of expedition. I ordered a burger and a pop. The waiter next addressed his attention across the table. Before Tink could answer, D.C. told the waiter that he and both of the girls would have tomato basil pasta.
“But, I want a cheeseburger,” Tinkerbrat protested.
D.C. glared at her.
“Fine,” she whined.
Posie said nothing.
The waiter said that our orders would be up as soon as possible and then exited. The moment he was out of the room, D.C. took the opportunity to demonstrate how discipline worked with his girls.
“Are we going to have a problem?” he asked Tinkerbrat.
“I don’t know,” she replied in a catty tone, “are we?”
“Okay, that’s one,” he said. When she grunted, he asked, “Do you want to go for two?”
She gritted her teeth, but said nothing. D.C. looked back at me and shook his head. “Subs,” he said.
I tried to agree with a smile, but wasn’t fully sure if I knew what it was that I was agreeing with. I also couldn’t help but to keep glancing over at Posie. Finally, I couldn’t contain my curiosity any longer. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry, but...is she okay?” I asked D.C.
“She will be,” he assured me. “She’s just in trouble. Her punishment is restricted eye contact.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“She’s not allowed to look anyone in the eye tonight.”
“I see.” I struggled with the information for a bit before continuing my inquiry. “If I may ask...what did she do?”
Posie noticeably blushed and Tinkerbrat chuckled loudly. D.C. shot the brunette a dirty look before telling me that his other sub had been receiving behavioral training and that she had broken the rules.
I nodded and tried hard to pretend like I understood. Neither D.C. nor Tinkerbrat were fooled for even a moment and both displayed expressions of amusement at my novice responses to their strange little games. Tink began looking like she was going to burst, until finally letting out an explanation, far louder than was necessary.
“She isn’t allowed to masturbate right now and he caught her doing it!”
I looked over at Posie, whose pale skin was now the color of an apple. When I looked back at Tink and D.C., she was laughing and he was giving her a withering glare.
“That was not the original cause for the punishment and you know it,” he told her. He turned his attention back to me. “Posie is trying to quit smoking. She cheated and so I took away a privilege. She broke that restriction and now here we are.”
“She was baaaad,” Tink sang sarcastically.
“She wouldn’t have as hard of a time with it,” he told her, “if you would stop doing it in front of her.”
“Uh, doing which in front of her?” I heard myself ask.
D.C. started to answer, but then stopped.
“Hey, if she just had more self control─” Tinkerbrat broke in.
“Tink...” D.C. said as he held his palm up, his fingers spread. His sub looked like she wanted to say something, but then slumped back in her chair, arms crossed and an irritated pout across her face.
I looked back stunned. “What was that?”
“She’s not allowed to speak for the next five minutes.”
“Wow. How do you manage that?”
“You have to train them right.” His mischievous grin remained firmly in place while Tink scowled. He went on to explain to me that “Tinkerbrat” wasn’t just a name, it was how she identified.
When I asked for more details, he told me that a brat was a sub that acted out despite full knowledge that they would be disciplined for it. “In Tink’s case,” he continued, “she acts like a bitch because she is one. Or rather, she doesn’t always know how to express herself well, so she just misbehaves to get attention and test boundaries. Still, she is aware that she will pay for it and, secretly, enjoys it.”
The sour look on his sub’s face seemed to contradict this conclusion, yet she did remain silent.
“And, her?” I nodded toward Posie.
“There are all kinds of names for Pos. Some use words like acolyte sub, but I’m not too fond of that, because it implies too much of a god-complex on my part. Another term I’ve heard is kajira. But, I don’t like that term either. Kajirae have no life of their own. Posie has a job, her own money, possessions and rights, like anyone else. I’d say she’s a loving sub. A slave, really. She’s formally collared and she’s mine.” He reached over and lifted the charm on her necklace. He turned his attention to Tink and touched hers, adding, “They both are.”
Tinkerbrat swatted his hand away. D.C.’s response was to reach under the table and do something invisible to myself, but that elicited a silent expression of pain on Tink’s part.
“Are you done showing your ass?” he asked her.
She continued to bite her lip and clench her eyes closed. D.C. applied more of whatever he was doing to her and her eyes and mouth opened. She still didn’t make a sound, but it was clear from the sudden, serious look on her face that she was ready to give in. She bit her lip again and nodded furiously, causing her Dom to relent.
“They’re a handful,” he said to me.
My head was starting to swim. I was already starting to wonder if I could fit into a community like this or if I was simply someone who had a secret desire to hold a willing party down by the throat while I fucked them. Before I could pick his brain for more details, a very large woman came to our end of the table...and I do mean large, in both width and height. Her hair was black and wavy and she bore a pleasant smile.
“Hey, kids,” she said cheerfully. “I’m gonna come talk to you all for a while.”
“Cathy,” D.C. greeted her. “How are you?”
“I’m good. How are you?”
“Doing well. Just chatting with...” He paused as he struggled to remember the name I had given.
“Ignite35,” I reminded him. “...Or just Ignite, I guess.”
“Hi,” the lady said. “I’m Cathy. Mother of Creation. Most people around here call me Momma C.”
“It’s very nice to meet you.”
“What’s going on here?” she asked, as she laid a hand on Posie’s shoulder. She immediately pulled it away, almost like she’d put it into scalding water. “I’m sorry,” she said to D.C. “May I touch her?”
“Of course, Cat. You can always touch the girls. You should know that by now.” He stroked the blonde’s hair and informed Momma C. that what she was witnessing was punishment.
“Aww. What’d she do?”
“She’s just having trouble showing restraint.”
“That’s unfortunate.” She leaned down and gave Posie a hug. “You doing okay other than that, honey bunch?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Posie said quietly, with a soft smile.
Momma C. hugged her again before noticing Tinkerbrat. “Let me guess. Sammie, over there is in a time out.”
“It wouldn’t be a munch if she wasn’t at least once.”
Tink continued to sulk. Momma C. went to hug her too and then gave D.C. one of his own. She sat at the end of the table and addressed me, asking what had led me there.
“I just moved here,” I told her. “I was in a...not so good, I guess...relationship where I was living. Among other things, very...vanilla?” I waited for a look of confirmation from her, that I had used the word correctly. “It fell apart and things weren’t going too well in my life, so when I was offered a job down here, I took it.”
“Can I ask what you do?”
I thought for a bit. This woman had allowed me to learn her real name, so obviously there was some level of openness within the community. Still, I decided that it wasn’t wise and declined to answer. Momma C. respected that decision and moved on to the question of how I identified.
“Oh, uh...a Dom,” I told her. I immediately felt like the term didn’t fit. At that moment, control and authority were things that I lacked an abundance of.
“That’s a shame,” she said. “You’re cute. I would have enjoyed beating your ass sometime.”
That took me by surprise. She and D.C. laughed and I realized that she was teasing me just a bit, but not entirely.
Suddenly, Tink spoke up. “It’s been five minutes,” she said in a pitiful and regretful tone. Her arms uncrossed and rested in her lap.
“Yes, it has,” D.C. agreed. He leaned over and kissed the side of her head. “Think you can behave for the rest of the munch?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl. Make me proud.”
“How did you end up with two submissives?” I asked.
Momma C. immediately started to laugh again. “The guys are always so fascinated with you D.C. ‘How did you get two pretty girls? Where can I find an arrangement like that?’.”
D.C. was amused, and decided to mess with me a bit. “Well, first you have to kidnap them. Rohypnol helps, as does chloroform. Then you cage them and starve them until they develop Stockholm syndrome. At that point, you reprogram them into obedience.”
I stared. Momma C. almost fell out of her chair as she howled.
“I’m joking,” he assured me. “I had Tink first. We met while doing volunteer work for a local charity.”
“You were doing volunteer work. I was doing community service,” Tinkerbrat clarified.
“Right. Well, we’d lunch together everyday and started hanging out. That community service was the result of a D.U.I., so she couldn’t drive. I gave her rides and we became friends. After a while, she began to realize that I was very secretive about some of my down time.”
“You wouldn’t say hardly anything,” she broke in again. “It was all cryptic. I thought you were a mobster or some shit.”
“Be that as it may, I eventually trusted her enough to let her in on my involvement in the community and she became very interested and very insistent that I teach her about the lifestyle. We discussed it for a few weeks, and I decided that it might be good for her and that she could fit in.”
“And, she has quite well,” Momma C. added, reaching over to pat her hand.
“I see. And, Posie?”
“She was a gift,” Tink beamed.
“Sorry. What?”
D.C. picked up the explanation again. “By some miracle, Tink managed to behave herself for a few weeks. I told her she could have whatever she wanted for her birthday. She said that she wanted another girl. We started advertising. We met and interviewed a few women, played with some. Eventually, we found Pos here. I actually knew her already, but only in passing, and had no idea that she’d gotten involved in the lifestyle. Regardless, we talked about it for a long time, experimented a bit until, finally, the three of us made it a formal arrangement.”
“Okay,” I said, surely appearing, at that point, like a kindergartener in a physics class. I turned to Tinkerbrat. “Why did you want another girl?”
The tone in her response implied that I might be an idiot. “Because I wanted pussy and didn’t have any.”
Everyone smiled, even Posie.
Momma C. decided to direct the conversation back to me. “So, what brought you here tonight?”
“Uh, lot’s of things.” The room was a bit cold, and yet I could feel myself sweat.
“Like what?”
“I spoke to someone named SeptemberSnowGirl on the website and she told me that I needed to attend a munch.” I looked around before asking, “Is she here?”
“No,” Momma C. shook her head. “SnowGirl doesn’t actually come that often.”
“Oh.”
“So, what else brought you here? I mean, why try and get this involved?”
I glanced over at D.C. and Tinkerbrat who were staring directly at me. It felt like an interrogation, which, in retrospect, I suppose it was.
Momma C. continued with a not-unfriendly smile, “What are you hoping to find?”
I thought for a moment before admitting, “Control.”
“Control over what?”
“That’s a good question,” I confessed. “I discovered, after an encounter with a friend, that I liked controlling someone else in bed. I liked the thrill of being in charge and making her do what I wanted. Maybe, I also liked giving her what she wanted, now that I think about it. Regardless, it was pretty exciting. I also began to feel like, if I could take on a role like Dominant that I might be able to control myself more, take charge of my life. Does that make any sense?”
“It does,” Momma C. nodded. “There’s some aspects to the lifestyle that can make you feel like you have that and similar things. But, not always. In some instances, it can be a bad way to go about it.”
D.C. broke in. “There are also plenty of people around here who have a lot to lose.”
“I know,” I said, considering the notation to be obvious.
“No,” he countered. “I don’t think that you do. There are people in this community who, if their involvement were discovered, could lose their jobs, respect of their peers, custody of their children... In highly extreme cases, they could even face a criminal investigation.” The tone of his voice and the scrutinizing gleam in his eyes reinforced his original point. “We may call it ‘play’, but this isn’t a game.”
I was speechless as I considered his words. Finally, Momma C. broke the tension.
“So,” she said, warmly, “why don’t you tell us what made you want to get involved enough to attend a munch, to actually meet the community itself?”
That was easy. “I wanted to learn and to meet people.”
“And?” she asked.
“And, nothing. I just want to meet some people. Honestly, I’m new in town and don’t have any friends. Since this is something that I’m interested in learning about and exploring, I figured it was a good way to kill two birds, you know?”
Momma C. and D.C. exchanged glances again that equated into obvious, nonverbal communication. When they looked back at me, D.C. said, “Okay. Let us know if you have any questions or if we can help.”
I thanked him.
“And, you should also friend us on the website,” Momma C. added.
Suddenly, a very energetic, redheaded lady in her mid-to-late thirties approached and introduced herself to me. “Hi. I’m Benji, Electra Jane on the website. Who are you?”
“Hi. I’m...Ignite35, or Ignite or...whatever.”
“Can I call you Iggy?” she asked, her hyperactivity lending an excited and friendly tone to her question.
“Uh, sure. Why not?”
“Okay. Iggy it is. It is so nice to meet you.” Her enthusiasm was intense and sincere. She pointed down to the other end of the table to a bearded man, approximately her age, with a pleasant smile. “That’s my guy down there. We’re both subs, which is why we’re in an open relationship. We’ve been together for almost five years, so I guess we’re doing something right, much more than anything that I did in my first marriage. Ugh! We’re also hedonists. Anyway, I just wanted to introduce myself and meet you, especially since Momma C. and D.C. were both talking to you and neither of them was rolling their eyes or looking like they might hurl. Are you coming to the play party later?” She hadn’t even taken a breath throughout all of this and still didn’t as she turned to the two across from me and asked, “Is he coming to the after party?”
“We’ll see,” D.C. said plainly.
“Okay,” Benji continued. “Well, it was very nice to meet you. I hope we’ll see you at a gathering or event soon. You’re good people. I can tell from your body language. You should make friends with these folk.” She pointed back and forth between Momma C. and D.C. “They’re good people too.” She then directed her attention and her extended index finger right at Momma C. “Talk to me before you leave,” she said before bouncing back to her chair.
I let out a deep breath.
“Feeling overwhelmed yet?” Momma C. asked with a smile.
Tinkerbrat gave a brief laugh and suggested, “He probably needs a drink after that. Come to think of it, I could use one.”
“No alcohol tonight,” D.C. told her as he rubbed her neck.
“You are so mean,” she returned.
“You’re abusing your communication privileges,” he said to her.
Momma C. asked him with a sarcastic chuckle, “D.C., why do you have such a bratty little thing if you’re just going to censor and restrict her all the time?”
“Because I deserve a little amusement in my life,” he smiled. He continued to rub his obnoxious sub’s neck and back before whispering something in her ear. She smiled and even appeared as though she might blush. He then turned his attention to me. “I don’t recommend coming to the after party tonight,” he said. “But, Cathy’s right. You should friend us both. You should also talk to everyone else here, introduce yourself before you leave.”
I nodded. “Of course.” I looked over at Momma C. who winked.
It was at that time that our food began to arrive and we were all forced to act like civilized adults for a while. After dinner, I did my best to make the rounds and meet as many other people as I could, struggling to comprehend and remember the names everyone gave. Before long, Mistress Xina cornered me to have a chat.
“What do you think so far?” she asked sounding both friendly and authoritative.
“It’s all very interesting,” I admitted.
“I noticed you speaking at length with some of our regulars and wanted a chance to get to know you myself. Is this your first event?”
“Yes. I only recently found out that these types of meetings exist.”
“Have you been in the lifestyle long?”
“Not at all,” I confessed, feeling like a new student taking to the principal.
“What made you take an interest in it?”
I chuckled nervously. “It was a girl I hooked up with. She liked it rough and I discovered that I liked the same. A little bit of internet research led me to the website. After trying to chat with a variety of very unhelpful people, I contacted, SeptemberSnowGirl, who told me about the munches.”
The look on Mistress Xina’s face was one of distaste. “Yes, Eleanor is always free with the information.”
I furrowed my brow. “You don’t sound like you approve.”
She shook her head. “Don’t misunderstand. You seem sincere, from what I can tell. However, we have a lot of guys come through here that are simply looking to get their dicks wet and SnowGirl doesn’t vett people before she invites them. It’s caused problems in the past.”
I was concerned and even slightly offended. “I promise, I’m not like that.”
“Perhaps not. In fact, I don’t get that feeling from you. You’re too nervous.” Her remark hit home rather hard. “But, as I said, she doesn’t discriminate and there have been multiple times when we’ve all had to play musical chairs to keep the creepers away from the girls here.”
“That’s unfortunate,” I told her.
“Well, let’s not dwell on it,” she said ironically. “Please, continue to enjoy yourself. And, feel free to join us again.”
With that, she excused herself to talk to the other attendees.
