There are several BDSM organizations within a 2-hour drive of my fair city, and I’m discovering that it’s well worth the gas (even at over $3/gallon — ouch) to check them out.

T. and I went to another group’s party last night — a group that he had been to before, but I hadn’t, although I’d met some of the members at various BDSM events over the past couple of years. It was a fantastic time. Everyone was really friendly and welcoming and warm, which managed to ease some of the jitters I get with new people.

Almost everyone was having such a good time being social that T. and I were one of only TWO couples who actually played in the dungeon. I got my ass beaten well and thoroughly — it’s definitely sore today. But good sore. Oh yes. When we came back to the social area, someone said, “THERE you two are — we thought you’d already left!” And I said, “Yeah, we were playing in the dungeon, because this is a PLAY party!” Fortunately everyone laughed, which is good, because I had intended it as a quip, but as soon as it left my mouth, I was afraid it would sound snotty.

After the group’s official party hours ended, “house rules” apply, which generally means that people can engage in types of play which aren’t allowed during the official party hours (bloodplay, etc.), and that people who are finished playing and who aren’t going to drive are welcome to have an alcoholic beverage. Well, no one else was playing, so there was no extreme play going on, but one fellow had brought some very good beer, and offered it around. As I’m not known to pass up good beer, I had just one, because even though I had eaten after playing, I was still a little endorphin-buzzed and didn’t want to make myself sick with an overload of intoxicants.

(Seriously, the kind of endorphin buzz I get after a serious flogging is akin to — and sometimes stronger than — a few glasses of wine, or a few beers. So more than one beer would have been tantamount to getting bombed. NOT what I wanted. So, just one beer.)

Between the excellent flogging I got, and having one tasty beer, I slept extremely well last night. It should be a prescription for insomniacs: take one flogging and one beer, and call me in the morning.