Long ago, when living in Manhattan, I had met a new friend who was a director of theatrical productions. She was a woman of unusual proportion, with long curly black hair like thick woolen springs sprouting from her head. She wore lots of loose, shapeless gown type garments and had a loving round face with long eyelashes. She couldn’t spend too much time with me because she was on her way to a Hugging Party. I hadn’t thought about this at all since it happened, but recently had my memory jogged.
It seems that there are all types of groups out there, privately existing for those who inquire. I like hugging as much as the next person, but some folks either really like hugging a lot… or maybe they just don’t get hugged enough. Regardless, she was a dedicated hugger and had to depart from my little coffee with her to run off and go get clutched.
I really didn’t think about her or the discovery of the Cuddle Group, even when I learned about ANR. I like the private groups when they have a cool acronym. A-N-R… love that! This was a discussion I had with one of my dear friends, who continued lactating because she liked the feeling of expressing herself and apparently others wanted to hear what she had to spray.
I’m not meaning to judge or say anything negative about any of these groups, especially because some of my most special friends belong to them. I just find it fascinating that as we live our white bread life, there is a world that exists beyond our experience. A whole private series of layers and dimensions that are available for anyone that has a personal or private interest or fetish. Whether it’s eating Mallomars, getting your back scratched or your feet rubbed… or any number of more private or deviant appetites there is a club, a group, a gathering for it. I’d take it one step further. I’d venture to say that in some cases they are so well organized, that when they do gather, there are discounts on airfare and hotels, and scheduled events throughout a celebratory weekend.
Another great acronym I just learned is OTK. When I heard of this, I just smiled quietly to myself. I was tickled by a world that caters to those that give generously and their counterparts who want to be given to generously, even when it comes to OTK. Again, all respect given to those who are OTK’rs as they are also important friends to me, and when I learned what OTK stood for, I needed to smack someone.
Apparently, there is a whole sub-culture that loves to spank and be spanked. O-T-K or Over The Knee, gives a whole new meaning to spare the rod and spoil the child. It seems that if done properly, spanking is one of the most erotic experiences out there. Soft tender raps bring blood to the surface, while gently drumming snaps the endorphins to attention and a full out beating releases the most pleasure.
The cast members dress up in the costumes of authority and rather than the traditional arrest or reprimand, the naughty person gets an orgasmic beating on the bum. I’m not even sure who gets the better end of the deal, the beater or the beatie.
Furthermore, I’m not sure how a person discovers their fetish or how they learn of a whole convention of like minded folks that compliment it.
I know it sounds weird, but for me… I’d like to discover a secret club that maybe gets up early and plays with dogs for a while. Then we’d all relocate to some location rich with visual landscape and dramatically lit texture, while we whip out our cameras and shoot randomly for a few hours. Then the real seduction would come in at the end when we would regroup with our lap tops and some brilliant facilitator would give us all the same juicy assignment to write about… and we’d write for a while and listen to others and what they had written.
And after all that, if not thoroughly satisfied, we could hug, suckle a bit and give each other a grand spanking.