First Play Party in New York on Saturday night/Sunday morning.

It was called ‘Submit’, was organized by the Lesbian Sex Mafia group for women & trans and took place in a basement in Brooklyn.

It is always exciting to arrive at a Play Party, because it is entering an underworld, a secret society. It is not advertised publicly and the venues are kept hidden. There was no way anyone would guess what kind of crazy stuff was going on inside this building unless they were part of the Mafia.

The venue was just dodgy enough, dark and organized as a maze. All the private booths had holes for voyeurism, which was more than half the fun. The usual BDSM rooms with crazy equipment (which I tend to keep away from) were hosting a wide spectrum of creatures.

Girls girls girls everywhere, of every style shape size age color femininity masculinity. There is so much diversity in this world that it becomes overwhelming when you are gender-fascinated. When you see such a clear sample of the rainbow range of the sexual identities concentrated in the same space, it gets so obvious that there are way more than 2 sexes.

I was one of the first to get some action going. Why not? It was strange. She was a little Asian girl playing dominant but who was awkward and kept apologizing, which made me way more dom than her because I always stay cool and in control even though I often inadvertently end up as the sub. There are many ways to be dominant beyond bottom/top, and mine is to trust and let go. How can one pretend to be dominant if they are themselves afraid of losing control? She was into strangling. I said OK why not, strangle me. There is nothing I frankly say no to, so then I end up laughing a lot. I can’t say I liked or didn’t like it, it was “interesting” and released my nerves until next time.

Then I wandered and watched the creatures for the rest of the night. A very tall girl whom I thought was a trans caught my eye, because she looked like a drag-queen (my ultimate fantasy). But I think she wasn’t. It is fascinating to read people’s story from the history of their body or the way they dress and present themselves.

I got my usual down after a few hours. It always happens when I am alone in a crowd, especially a type of crowd which can be disturbing when you feel lonely. But altogether there is support and good spirit in those events, like a human fishnet that prevents you from falling. People are kind. More caring than in the outside world because they live up their life and have therefore less animosity inside them.

I had a moment of sorrow because I still miss her and I fight that back with everything I have, but sometimes I run out of strategies or will. The DJ chose that moment to play Björk’s “All is Full of Love” and it was a strange contrast to wander those dark corridors with that tune in the background covered up with the sound of spanking, screaming, whipping.

I believed in it more than in any other context. Yes, all is full of love and all our regular or strange practices are on the path to our giant search for love. Most of us are fighting this secret battle.

Then, I met J². I had been looking at her all night and I dived my eyes into hers a few times, but she didn’t seem responsive. Towards the end of the party, she finally talked to me. I thought she was the sexiest prettiest girl of the night, one of those boyish girls with beautiful face whose blurry gender stings my imagination.

I don’t know how one of the first questions she asked me was: “Are you heart-broken?” which took me by surprise because 1/ I didn’t bring the subject 2/ you rarely hear that in a sex party 3/I am uncertain of the answer.

I had to think. I said “No… but it’s been hard”. It stunned me that she saw beyond. She said not to worry “because you are beautiful”. I replied thanks but if beauty was solving anything or cure pain we would know. We talked for a while. The venue was closing. I wrote my Fuckbook contact on her hand as she doesn’t have a phone (I like this.) She hugged me to say bye – our lips touched but it would have ruined everything to kiss her now although she’s the only girl I’ve been drawn to kissing in a long time.

I told her not to wash her hands.