Get Yourself to a Fetish Club

It was our first weekend getaway, after nearly a year in lockdown.

We had driven up to Jacksonville, where there was a FEMA tent administering vaccines. Not exactly the romantic destination that most couples have in mind, but anything that would bring us one step closer to the freedom to socialize with others was sexy and exciting in my eyes.

While looking up things to do, we saw that we weren’t far from a fetish club called Club Kink Jacksonville (CKJ). I’d heard about these clubs before, but had never really considered them with anything more than a passing curiosity. On this particular day, I had my period, and I was feeling bloated and not particularly sexy or adventurous. But the club was a five minute drive from our Airbnb, so we figured, “Why not? Let’s just check it out without any expectations, just to say that we tried." Never one to shy away from a challenge, I chalked it up to an experience that I could at the very least, cross off of my bucket list.

A few minutes of online research confirmed that like most kink/fetish clubs, a membership would be required to enter, which can be purchased as an annual or a one-day pass. In order to apply for a membership, all new visitors must attend an orientation. We went to Eventbrite to purchase said orientation tickets, and made our way downtown for our 9:00 reservation at CKJ.

While we waited in the lobby for our orientation to begin, there was an older couple with us, somewhere in their late sixties/early seventies. Very clean cut. The man was wearing a polo shirt and khakis, and the wife was wearing a matching cardigan set and freshly pressed slacks. They had a disarmingly wholesome appearance, and they looked just as nervous and shy as we were feeling.

After completing our membership applications, we were given a tour of the playrooms: There was a dungeon, complete with a spanking bench and a Saint Andrews Cross. There was a Moroccan themed bedroom that had a more exotic, and romantic feel with lush drapery and a large couch for spectators. There was a medical examination room for those who want to "play doctor". There was even area with matching Sybian machines where female-bodied kinksters could compete in a rodeo style endurance showdown. Every room and play area was equipped with a generous supply of cleaning supplies, condoms, and a full basket of clean sheets.

Our tour guide outlined all of the ground rules: Absolutely NO touching another person without their enthusiastic and ongoing consent. No nudity in the bar area where the food was kept. Fresh sheets and towel must be placed on all furniture before getting busy. And never, ever, interrupt a scene in progress.

Within the discussion of these rules, we learned the general etiquette of negotiating a play scene. Keep it safe. Keep it sane. Keep it consensual. It seemed to be well understood that the first two items had a LOT of room for interpretation (as evidenced by the woman suspended from the ceiling by what appeared to be a combination of ropes and saran wrap); but it was clear that everything that happens in that venue must be based on a foundation of clear communication and respect.

Feeling a strange mix of both comfort and excitement, we decided to go forward with purchasing our annual membership. We then sat with the older couple, while we waited for the real play to begin at 10:00.

We made some small talk to ease the mutual awkwardness, and they told us about life in retirement and how they enjoyed living in Florida to be close to their grandkids. Eager to get to the good stuff (and because I hate small talk), I finally asked, "so what brings you here".

The husband was looking for a Dominatrix. His prior attempts at finding one online were met with disappointing encounters, and he was hoping for better luck by getting to know the local kink community. Coincidentally, there just so happened to be a BDSM demonstration occurring right in front of us. Personally, the idea of pain and impact play never interested me - but seeing the care, safety, and tenderness involved, made me open to the idea. Some day. But that is a story for another time.

And then, at 10:00, the lights dimmed, and many of the casually dressed patrons at the bar were suddenly dressed in costumes made of leather, and lace, and even.....furry animal costumes. It was at that moment, that I could hear the hallelujah chorus of angels singing down upon me.

It was an adult Disney World! Everyone was so happy! There were people of all shapes and sizes and colors and costumes just walking around, loving and embracing their bodies, and letting their freak flags fly. For the first time in my life, I felt as though I had found my people!

Feeling a little overdressed (or underdressed, depending on how you look at it), I stripped down to my panties, and made my way around the playrooms in awe like a kid in a candy store. And although I was parading around like a fresh piece of meat in a room full of "pervy" kinksters, I was treated with more kindness and respect than I've ever encountered at any local sports bar.

That night was such an epiphany for me. Here was a community of supportive people that wanted to explore the limits of what their bodies could feel. Whether it be the pursuit of pleasure or pain, there was an air of mindfulness, and mutual respect that you rarely encounter anywhere else.

As the evening progressed, I ran across the older couple from orientation once more. The husband was stripped down to his tighty whities, bent over the spanking bench, while a statuesque Domme spanked him with a wooden paddle. I couldn't help but smile for him, happy that he had finally found what he was looking for. I found an empty chair next to his wife, and kindly asked if she was also able to find what she had been looking for.

"Oh no, honey. This isn't my thing. I just came to show my support". Sigh...how sweet and wholesome is that?

Seriously, every one should visit a sex club at least once in their life. Even if you’re shy, you’ll never be pressured into doing anything that you don’t want to do. And it’s such a GIFT to be surrounded by people who are embracing their most vulnerable, most authentic selves, and being celebrated for it.

Don’t we need more of that in this world?