Vampire Ball Aftertaste: Seems Like The Moscow Kinky Community Takes Shape

Here comes one of those moments when I become acquainted with Moscow-friends of whom I meet once a year exclusively at the Kinky Party.

All these meetings begin in the same way:

– Oh hi!

– Oh! Look who it is!

– Yeah! Remember me? At the last Kinky Party we used to… [insert verb].

– Sure! How do you like it here today?

– blah blah blah

These meetings are pleasant, because you can escape them at any time without worry about picking a convenient moment or polite phrases to say “bye”. There’s something both subtle and vulgar about them at the same time. You connect and then you leave. Just like insects.

Here is tall, brown-eyed Lera, she is twenty, and she is bi. We met for the first time about a year ago. She really likes kissing girls (“It’s so gentle!”), but I also understand that she likes my current party-companion no less.

“A new guy? He’s cool, better than the previous one”, she says. – “How about going out together sometime? I mean, we can go to a cafe and just chat like “normal people.”

Like normal people. (Lol)


I go further. I see a handsome half-naked guy, covered in green-gold shimmering powder and wearing a chained collar on his neck. He has a quiet and slightly sad look. I come closer and ask: “Who do you belong to?”. He has a ball gag in his mouth, so he can only nod in the direction of his mistress. I see her from the back–a gorgeous brunette in a red corset passionately kissing another woman. I want to talk to this guy, but I understand that right now it’s impossible.

A little later while walking around the open spaces of the club I meet the couple again. This time I turn to her: “How long have you been together?” She pondered. She unintentionally threw an inquiring glance at her slave, as if to seek support. He only modestly shrugs his shoulders.

“Not very long.” she says.

“I’m interested in such environments, but I have absolutely no experience,” I say trying to justify my intrusiveness.

“Oh, I don’t have much experience either,” the Lady revives. – That’s why I’m here – to enlighten and improve! She glances at the dance floor and then at her Sub again.

“Speak,” she commands. The guy spits out the gag from his mouth and says to me: “You have to talk about these types of things”.

“And that’s all?”

“Well, yes.”

“Right. Perhaps. Thank you.”

I say goodbye to them and while leaving, I hear him say to his Mistress: “She’s cool”. So I went further into the night, full of the belief that I was cool, and that a gag in the mouth adds extra value to a one’s words. However, it seems to me that during this flashy night all the party-people, despite being dressed like monsters, felt themselves to be super-cool, super-beautiful and free. And words … were replaced with kisses. I dream that this magical self-awareness and that this desire to place lips on other’s lips will not ever fade away from us.

But sometimes the dream is just a dream.

P.S. Full photo report оf the latest kinky party–Vampire Ball is coming soon on Moskvaer.com!

About Yana141 Articles
Journalist by education, barstool philosopher by heart. Moskvaer. Rebel. Frustrated hedonist.

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