Violet Hand

Suzanne M

Bondage a-Go-Go is held at the Glas Kat Supperclub at 4th Street in San Francisco. Every wednesday night "San Francisco's longest running fetish night club" opens its doors at 10pm for fetish dance and the occasional SM play. grip and I arrive early so we decide to have a coffee at Zupa, a restaurant one block down on 4th. Zupa is chique-ish, but they have a bar where we can sit. We decide to order a dessert with our coffee. It feels kind of awkward sitting at a bar in a restaurant having dessert and coffee and keep your coat on, but taking my coat off would feel more awkward because even if customers would not mind having a glance at my fetish outfit, I'm sure restaurant staff would. As it's warm, I do unbutton my coat, giving the waiter who's serving us coffee a good view on my leather miniskirt and strapless leather top. He smiles, then gives me a second double espresso at no charge.

One minute to ten we arrive at the Glas Kat. A few youngsters, in not particularly fetish like attire, are hanging out on the sidewalk. A leather guy sitting on a stool guards the entrance and wants us to show ID. Before we can show him, William bounces off the stairs to welcome us. We're his guests, but still the guy at the door wants to peek in my purse, I'm not sure what for. Is he checking for handcuffs or nipple clamps?

Inside, after climbing the stairs to the first floor, there's a bar and some tables and seats. On the left, there's a small dance floor with only one person dancing, a DJ playing moderately loud music. On the right, there's a fenced off play area, a lady sits guard, nobody is playing. William shows us around, although there's not much more to show. The play area contains a cross and a suspended metal rod with wristcuffs which to the person attached to it provides a nice view on a second dance floor downstairs. We sit down, have a coke, and start observing the people wandering about. Most are dressed fetish, but not in the same way as at the average bdsm party. It's more like fairy tale fetish, or how you would imagine fetish to be in a fairy tale. Extravagant shoulders on a long black coat, long wide skirts, petticoats. A guy in bdsm outfit (all leather, lots of leather) kind of stands out.

William left us alone for a while he's meeting with friends and taking care of things outside our view. He promised us there would be some good scenes rolling down, but so far we haven't seen any and that's a perfectly good reason to start our own. grip sets off to the lady guarding the play space and talks with her for a rather long while. He gets into the fence and inspects the cross and other play gear, then continues to talk to the lady. When he finally comes back, he doesn't look particularly happy.

"If you want to play you have to keep your panties on and you have to cover your nipples.".
"Can't take off your panties, cover your nipples.".
"I'm not gonna do that."
"I was afraid you wouldn't, but those are the rules."
"It's against everything I believe in. I believe in freedom of speech and freedom to show my body. I'd rather not play than cover my nipples.".
"Then we won't play.".

Kind of disappointing to drive 40 miles to a playparty and then discover you can't play. William strongly advises against violating the rules because there's a fair chance it would cause the close down of the place. Has happened before, Bondage a-Go-Go has moved in and out spaces four or five times, now being back at the original space I remember visiting exactly ten years ago, although in my memory the space seemed bigger then.
A couple enters the play space and start to unpack some gear, then seem to reconsider and descend to the dance floor.

"William wants you to come over"
"William is in the play space, he wants you to come and have a look a his violet wand."
"Is that ok with you?"
"Is it ok with you?"
"I mean, I wanted to do a scene with you, is it ok if I let William demo his violet wand now?"
"Sure, go ahead."
"You should come with me."

We enter the play space at the back where William has unpacked his violet wand.
"I'll show you, go to the cross and hold the metal bar, face towards the cross."
I do as I'm told, curious, confused because we had decided not to play, but now I can keep my clothes on and still play a little. I've felt grips violet want a couple of times and I'm not particularly excited by the experience. It doesn't do much for me, I think a violet wand does more for spectators not knowing what it feels like than for the subject feeling the sparks and the tickling. I must say that with grip we've never taken violet wand play very far.

"Now hold tight so you're well grounded."
"It tickles!." and I can't help giggling.
"Oh, you wait, it'll get up to torture level."
"Right now, it just tickles.".

William is not the kind of person to follow the rules outlined for proper violet wand play, which prescribe that you consecutively try all the extensions that the violet wand set comes with. He knows that a glass bulb shaped one way feels exactly the same as one shaped differently. After the initial tickling with the default glass bulb, he prefers Christmas decoration, the shiny metal stuff you decorate the living room with when it's Christmas. It doesn't tickle like the glass bulbs, it feels like little electric needles jumping up and down my skin. It's not torture level, but it's definitely pain. Then William drops the Christmas decoration and carefully touches my shoulder with his right hand, but before he actually touches a spark flies, a needle stings.

"Ouch! But it still tickles!."

Apparently (I can't see because my back is turned towards William and grip) William has hooked himself up to the violet wand and now is using his hand instead of the glass bulbs or the decoration stuff. His hands almost touching my shoulders, purple sparks flying between his hands and my skin. His hand going through my hair, crackling, sparking, tickling, hurting. On my legs it feels odd, more hurting, when he strokes my pantyhose. The fabric causes the sparks to be more intense, more stingy. For a moment I think that the fabric is melting into my skin, but William assures me that everything's ok. Williams violet hand goes up my skirt (no sensation through the thick leather) up to my corset top. When he touches the zipper on the side, I scream.

"Told you it would go up to torture level."
"It's the zipper. It's metal."
"Ah, that adds a new dimenstion to the play."

Rather than staying away from the zippers, he starts experimenting how to best touch and stroke them. But wherever he touches them, the whole zipper gets electric and burns into my skin, to the amusement of the owner of the violet hand. I'm starting to envy him, it must feel like a magicians hand, touching skin and invoking reactions, muscle contractions, giggles and screams and the occasional jumping on feet. I'm sure to him it feels as good as it does to me.

"I've put this rod to my skin, I prefer this to the ordinary plate people use. This seems to make better contact with the skin, it doesn't burn your skin.".
A three inch metal rod is connected to the violet want and sits in Williams belt, pressed to his skin. The wand is in his pocket, the current is controlled by a foot switch so he has both hands available.
"Thank you William, this was an extraordinary experience, never thought a violet wand could hurt and tickle at the same time.."
He grins.
"I'm glad you had a good time.."
It's still before midnight, we know we won't play any further, tomorrow I'll have two business meetings, and William spots one of his playpartners on the dance floor. We decide to call it an evening.

Outside the clear November night feels chilly. The evening breeze makes my calves tickle and sting, as if sparks still fly. The next morning, when I'm having my shower the hot water makes my shoulders sting and hurt. Who said violet wands don't hurt? But then, this was not a violet wand, this was a violet hand....