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Account of NYC Slave Auction
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From: [email protected]
Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage
Subject: Account of NYC Slave Auction
Hi, all. This is Elliott, your intrepid a.s.b. field correspondent,
bringing you a hopefully entertaining and informative account of a visit to
the monthly slave auction at Paddles, a New York City club. I'm putting the
report in FAQ format, in case I need to repost it. The questions:
Where is this place?
Paddles is located on the lower west side of Manhattan at 540 West 21st,
in one of those clubs your momma would rightly tell you to avoid. The club
itself is called the Zone Decay, which I thought might be a witty pun on
the initials of the owner (DK?). But it isn't. Anyway, they have s/m nights
at this place several nights a week, and on the third Saturday of every
month there is a "slave auction". It costs men $25 to get in, and women are
either free or $5. The phone number is (212) 463-8599.
What's the club like?
The club looks like part of a soundstage for the filming of Mad Max IV -
it has that once-trendy "After the Atomic War" look to it. As such places
go, it's fairly clean and well lit. There's a projection screen that
continuously shows grainy bondage videos.There are various semi-private
areas for semi-private scenes - no sex or frontal nudity though, as per
house rules. There's a bar that features bad, expensive drinks like frozen
bourbon jello. There are various (IMHO) poorly made pieces of bondage
equipment along the walls - the type of shackles and racks that a bottom
must exert all his or her skill to keep from pulling to pieces during a
scene.
How does the slave auction work?
The prospective slave signs up about an hour before the auction. You're
assigned a number, and you wear a placard with your "lot number" and a
description of what sort of services you are willing to perform (mine said
"tie this tiger up tight", which elicited more amusement than interest...).
Some of the placard "advertisements" made my jaw drop about a foot.
10 minutes before the auction, the slaves are herded into an area below
the stage, and asked to strip to their underwear. On the advice of my
fashion consultant, I had bought a $20 men's leather g-string (at the club)
for this part of the show, and I had some amusing moments trying to figure
out how to wear the damn thing. But proper attire is de riguer for the
slave-about-town.
One by one, the slaves are auctioned off. The auctioneer brings the
slave up (to a raised platform under the spotlights), reads the conditions
on the placard (i.e. "Number 110 wishes to be bought by women only, and
will give excellent foot massage"), shows off the slave a bit, and takes
bids.
The bidding takes place in "credits", of which you get 10,000 at the
door. You can buy more. Credits are about as convertible as the ruble, and
like the ruble, some people seem to have an infinite number ofthem. Thus,
a.s.b. economists will be distressed to hear that the free market in slaves
is warped by the fact that the 'House Mistresses" can bid as much as they
want...
What was your auction like?
Strange. There were 10 men, and 2 women (the women were accompanied by
their "real" masters, the men were not). There were probably more than a
hundred people in the place, but the male-female ratio was easily 5:1, and
the men without exception asked for bids from females only. As a result,
most of the men fetched bids from the house mistresses only, and small
change at that. It appeared to me that the purpose of the House Mistresses
was to make sure that everybody was bid for - nobody feels worse than an
unwanted slave.
For my part, I was quite nervous while waiting to be auctioned. It's
never been a special fantasy of mine, although I remember the slave auction
fondly from the adventure stories of my youth ("Voyage of the Dawn Treader"
- C.S. Lewis). However, the code of gonzo journalism required total
participation, so up to the auction block I went.
There were some encouraging catcalls, which raised my spirits, mainly
from men (great - just my luck). However, the auctioneer boggled my mind
by asking me questions ("How will you serve your mistress? What do you have
to offer?") to which I replied with random mumblings. I guess if it were a
real auction, they would have tagged me as "too dumb for inside work - use
in the fields"
Anyway, to make this long story still long, I was bought for a song by
one of the house mistresses, who gave me a brief lesson in how better to
present myself ("look humble" - "speak up" - "say what you really want"),
and then sent me to fetch her two cups of coffee from the nearby Empire
Diner.
What happened after the auction?
I should mention that you are expected to act out your scene immediately
after the auction, while in the club. There were about four or five
whipping and paddling scenes, some of remarkable intensity. One of the
slaves whose placard had read "want a whipping - can take it" was being
thrashed by a female top with a long leather strap - and she was hitting
*hard*. Easily hard enough to draw blood, and IMHO, hard enough to do
internal injuries if she hit the wrong spot. So, be careful what you ask
for.
Around 2 am, the regulars seemed to drift off to the Vault, a remarkably
sleazy club which I suggest you avoid. Party over.
Any final thoughts?
It was for real, and it was pretty scary. I felt safe enough, since I
was able to set limits and I had taken the precaution of having a secret
"spotter" or two in the audience. But you have no control over who buys
you, and for a while afterwards the club etiquette is that you *are* a
slave.I think if I were running a fantasy auction, I'd attend to a few more
of the details and approach it with a little more humor.
The thing that the auction offers is humiliation, in a fairly public
space.
If that is your scene, I suggest you check it out.
- Elliott, aspiring to be the Peter Arness of a.s.b.
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