Instead of the Pedestal in March or May, the two of us decided to go to Devotion instead. It made a nice change, it was a good event and both of us enjoyed ourselves as much as was possible.
But... Pedestal is the nearest FemmDom event (geographically it's a touch closer than HoWL) and it's somewhere familiar and I think familiar can be a good thing from time to time. So days off are booked and I've got the black bag packed with the outfits we'll be wearing for the event.
It should be quite a fun time. Although I am somewhat miffed that my chosen outfit, yet again the Mk3, is sans gloves. Despite doing my best to manage the junior at HoWL he ended up losing one of my gloves and coating the other in paella sauce. I took them off so they wouldn't get wrecked by the washing up or when slicing up the chocolate cake. Ho Hum. urge to whip a tweeny rising lesson learned about leaving my stuff in a supposed safe area when junior service people are around. Fortunately I was able to press-gang the accessories from the Mk2 in to use, so I would at least have the right look on the night.
My Owner would, after some deliberation, be reprising her role as 'Zofe' and whilst we'd tested her latex outfit it seemed the protective barrier that chlorination had created was breaking down. For those curious chlorination chemically alters the top most layer of the latex sealing it away. A useful bit of information if you happen to have a penchant for latex but are allergic to it. So with her preferred outfit needing repair, I packed the black satin uniform and its attendant petticoats.
Getting to Romford required a slight delay, I figured we'd do a slow potter up the A3, around the M25 and have tons of time yakking... I mean we always do and it's normally the reason why getting to the event is a mad dash. Unfortunately we ended up having to hang around waiting until 3pm; the reasons were non-negotiable and related to a Government department so they weren't going to reschedule. But we did manage to make it to Romford just before 7pm, which gave us about an hour to get sorted and ready for a glorious night.
I have a suspicion that the full regalia is designed so that you need two people to do it properly, as sure I can get a corset on and yank on the laces but without either a large mirror or someone behind you it's very hard to know if you've got it closed properly. Of course even if you've got it closed properly your manuverability is heavily curtailed and getting the dress on can be a pain. And the Mk3 is certainly in that category. Wonderful to wear but it's a layer cake outfit; the dress only fits when the corset is on and when the dress is on you can't really adjust the petticoats; it appeals to my sense of planning in that regard. Awesome to wear and looks totally the business so it's well worth these really quite minor annoyances. Between the two of us we usually do as much as we can on our own and then get the other one to help with zips, corsets and making sure things are tied off in the right places. So over the course of an hour both of us were able to get ready, pack away the stuff we didn't need and get ourselves prepared for a night out.
We actually made pretty good time and were parked up in a side street near Fire at just after 9pm, so about an hour to get to central London. As we parked up a random guy looked through the window of the car and gave us two thumbs up, he was grinning ear to ear when all three of us climbed out, grabbed MzWhipplash's toy bags from the boot and sauntered passed him toward the venue. Surprisingly there wasn't a queue. I realise most people tend to show up a little later in the evening but usually we aren't the only ones outside, still it meant we were straight to the security people for bag checks.
The poor woman who was checking me over had her eyes on stalks when she looked through the bag, I did my best to reassure her by saying "It's just some whips, a cane or two, nothing major. No knives or firearms." however from the look on her face she was about to confiscate pretty much everything until one of the event organisers hurried over and asked her if she'd been briefed on tonight. The response was a curt "No" but she was overruled and the bag found to be ok, although she was quite interested in making sure Tina's inhaler was actually an inhaler and that my torch was a torch. Beyond that she seemed quite interested in figuring out if there was anything else stashed about my person; maybe she was curious about the bell... innocent look
Still with that out the way we went in and Luigi checked our ticket (myself and Tina but a couples on, MzWhipplash is on the VIP list) and went in to the club proper. The club already had a few people inside, ordering drinks, catching up with friends and waiting for people to arrive and the DJ's were already starting their openings. Whilst it was hard to really see without the house lights being on it looks like Fire is undergoing so fairly major renovation, gone is the bare wooden floor and in its place is a proper non-slip flooring (which is layered on top of the boards but whatever) although the hand dryer in the ladies toilet still doesn't work (and hasn't since we Pedestal first moved there) but you never know if they're renovating everything then perhaps that's on the list of things to do?
After catching up with people we headed in to the Goddess Room, our normal haunt and I went off to visit the bathroom. I wasn't really planning on doing anything but I found Mistress Red and someone who's name I didn't get struggling to get a pair of latex gloves on; apparently they'd been struggling with them for quite a while. It took a few tries and I did mention that polishing them before putting them on might not of been wise but eventually I was able to get the gloves up her arms and then went to do my business. Got to be me, got to be useful.
As Derek wasn't on site for this event, he was reported to be attending a course somewhere for work, it seemed that the usual announcements about what was happening and when weren't being made so despite being only gone 5min at most, I returned to find Select A Slave already running... and it wasn't 10:30 yet. Very odd but I suspect the reason so few Dommes came was because they didn't know. Anyway, it seemed that MzWhipplash and Prim were having a blast tormenting the submissives with all manner of weird questions and challenges (singing a sea shanty, hopping on one leg, nothing THAT challenging) and eventually a winner was selected and the champagne bottle popped.
I'll admit, I've had champagne only a few times in my life and being a curious sort decided to have a poke at the bottle that the winner had left on the bar. It wasn't a brand I recognised although I can't really call myself knowledgable about these things so perhaps it was a good one? Either way it smelt... odd. It tasted odd as well, as MzWhipplash quickly decided she didn't like it and after a quick sniff (the stuff in the glass smelt worse than the stuff in the bottle) I agreed with her. We ended up having a quite enjoyable chat about if chamagne can be corked; we figured that if it couldn't then that bottle was doing a good impression of it.
With Select-A-Slave done we headed through to where the stage show was going to be held, all of us looking forward to a bit of "boylesque". Whilst seating was easy to find we weren't quite sure what happened (I heard there was issues with the PA but it was playing music just fine, perhaps they mean the microphone or mixer?) but instead of the 11:30 start we'd been told by a helpful House Slave it was much closer to midnight, ironically this is when it normally does start.
Usually Pedestal's acts run a wide range of forms, fire players, striptese, stand-up comedy you name it and it's probably appeared in some form or another. This time we had: a mime act, a bit of opera that whilst well sung was, allegedly about Samson and Delilah, with Delilah being described as "the first Domme" (all three of us agreed that "assassin" would be a more accurate description and her actions, as described, would of led to a lot of rape and enslavement of women... not exactly appropriate for an event that celebrates female Dominants) and this was followed by two more mime acts; the last of which was the same performer as the first. Beyond, what felt like, a hurried "best dressed slave" competition that was it for the stage show.
MzWhipplash decided it was playtime for the pony that had met us there and was a good friend, with Tina at one end of the A-frame and myself at the other each of us held one of the kit bags we'd brought and did our best to block people from getting themselves injured; I wasn't that successful as holding a breif case open in your arms means you can't exactly do much. To cap it off I had someone barge past me, call out "Get out of the way men!" and pretty much barrel straight in to MzWhipplash. Still with a bit of jiggling between myself and Tina at various points we were able to stem the flow and she was able to have quite an impressive scene.
As the pony was enjoying the aftermath I sent Tina off to get a coke for him and once he could walk a bit I carried the bags whilst both of them helped him to a quiet corner of the Goddess Room where it was relatively quiet and aftercare could be properly administered. Of course nothing says you can't have a nice chat whilst making sure someone's Ok and this is what we did for quite a while until the pony was able to join in but it would be quite a while until this happened.
In the mean time the house slaves were starting to roam around with nibbles for the ladies (they occasionally offer them to the submissives if they've completed a run and have left over). We found the onion bhaji's had a powdery aftertaste but all of us quite enjoyed these sweet pastry twizles, to the point where I was stood quite happily holding a tray the House slave had left nearby so MzWhipplash could take what she wanted.
On a technical level: Yes, this means I've served at Pedestal ticks item off bucket list
It was after the pony had recovered that things started going downhill for the three of us, keep in mind that the venue is NOT a private members club, it is a night club that for one night every two months is repurposed, it only has the licenses you'd expect of this sort of thing. So it is not licensed for full nudity and beyond that the rules of the club are that the furry bits should be covered (even a chastity device is, technically, sufficient). So when a lady came in with two submissives, one in a full latex hood with nothing else on but a condom and the second without the hood... all four of us were a bit "Yeah... no". This didn't seem to dissuade them from giving the masked guy a hand job to climax though, even with James (a member of staff) stood behind them telling them to stop.
The second submissive was duly brought to climax and started to remove the condom to dump it on the sofa, our Pony grabbed the nearest bin (which was right next to that group) and told him to stick in there; we both agreed that this was well in to the "disgusting" territory.
Both MzWhipplash and Tina decided it was time to amuse themselves and Tina wanted to practise her aim. One pink clad volunteer was duly led to the a piece of kit in the room and I drummed my fingers in time to the music coming in from the main room whilst occasionally offering some advice (this was a practise session not actual play) as issues were encountered. Quite an enjoyable way to spend a chunk of time if I do so say myself. It was after we'd finished we noticed a third person busy masterbating in the little knuk we'd left; I was duly dispatched to go and get some staff although our pony found someone quicker than I did and as a result had a massive (to quote Tina) "justice boner" when all of the house Domes appeared just as he was climaxing and started yelling about inappropriate behaviour.
The problem with all of this is, one time I was taken to something referred to as "Club Submission" (at least I remember it as that), that was somewhere in London and potentially at Hidden during the late 90's (1998?). Much like tonight I was wearing a pink satin outfit (the Mk1) and there was also a Tranny there (and if you find that term insulting read on), I sat down with the people I was with and this creature sits down a little distance from me. I feel my dress being tugged and look over, give them a scowl and adjust myself. Perhaps as little as two minutes later they get up and head off as fast as they can. We go to get up and my hand brushes the side of my dress. It is wet. It is sticky. Can you guess what that Tranny did? That's right, they used my uniform as a jizz rag, masturbated with it and considering we couldn't see hide nor hair of them (and both myself and the people I was with were out for blood) had ripped off their latex mask, stripped and left the club. So when Tina, not quite knowing what had happened before the one we'd caught red handed sat down on the sofa and leapt up complaining it was wet, I had to inform her that she'd just sat in cum (it's also the reason why as I write this there is a set of petticoats going through the most aggressive wash cycle I can get away with) and a quick flick with a torch over the area revealed a used condom that'd been dumped on the sofa and was dribbling its contents out. We now knew where the condom the guy in the latex hood had used went.
Not quite as bad as finding out someone has used your prized dress as a cum rag but still sitting in someone else's 'output' that'd dribbling from a casually discarded condom is pretty up there in the disgusting stakes. It is also, in my opinion, right at the top of the list of things you don't expect at a FemDomme event.
Whilst we were starting to get that "maybe time to make a move" seeing these three and Tina's experience was enough to seriously kill the mood and make us go and check out the other rooms and see if we were right, it was still a salvageable situation at this point... unfortunately seeing a Trans person (the same one who's tried twice at various events to initiate something with myself and Tina) giving a guy a blowjob and finally another Trans person, who had been wearing a school girl gym outfit for most of the night, walking around naked at "half mast" shall we say sealed the deal for the three of us: It was time to go. NOW.
And we did, bidding farewell to the door staff and enjoying the cool night breeze that seems to proceed sunrise as we ambled back to the car, from there we made our traditional post Pedestal pit stop at a McDonalds for breakfast and pottered back to Romford to curl up in sleeping bags to recover.
As an addendum I should point out that every event has off nights, sometimes things don't go to plan. It just seemed that on this particular night one of guests was a Mr. Murphy and his law, if it could go wrong it did. It did prompt me to send a message to the person who organises the event though; everything changes and as the wanky men weren't thrown out and instead moved from room to room, I want to know if this is what is now to be expected. If I hear back, I'll let people know.