The day came when I was invited to my very first play party. I was thrilled. I imagined a scene like in Caligula, with couples writhing in passion and taking breaks only to recharge their sugar batteries with caramel pastries and fat grapes. I imagined Dante's Inferno; submissives screaming in pain, the flames of torment illuminating their faces with a red-orange glow.

As usual, my imagination was a bit over the top.

Deep down, I knew the party wouldn't really be any of those things, although it would have been kind of cool if it was. Considering my own exhibitionistic tendencies, I expected to revel in the atmosphere. I expected to witness some real passion, real sex, real humiliation.

Maybe I was just hoping I'd see more than I'd seen so far. I'd been in few demonstrations, both as Dominant and submissive. Then there were the dinner parties with playtime serving as dessert. Not to mention the threesomes, foursomes, and otherwisesomes.

The challenge is that it's not exactly clear where private play becomes public play, or even how you define "play." Is "public" play determined by the number of people in attendance? Is three enough? Is ten enough? Or do you really need a maddening crowd?

Does a demonstration qualify as play? How about when I order my submissive around at a party? Do I have to actually be doing a scene complete with a fistful of accoutrements? And what about that business on the maple table when we'd all finished dessert?

Is it about whether or not you achieve Dom or sub space? If that was true, then some of my private scenes wouldn't qualify as scenes.

What if I was at a "real" play party, but there was no emotional or spiritual connection? Does play require a present mind, or is it enough to just thrash away?

If there was one common denominator to all these situations I found myself in, it was that I felt nothing. No passion. No connection. No voyeuristic lust. In fact, the overall feeling was one of detachment with a theatrics chaser. I worked the stage, worked the crowd; they worked me. I may well have appeared to go into a different headspace, but most of it was an act. I'm not saying I didn't enjoy myself, only that it was a shadow of the real thing.

I also discovered that watching leaves me cold. I know the person in the scene is probably feeling something, maybe something amazing, but I'm unable to connect to that feeling. I see the event: someone standing there lashed to a Saint Andrew's cross, and another person swinging a flogger back and forth. Yet for me there is no emotional content, no synergism.

The other part of the public play issue is the play itself. Around the same time that I was observing my own disengagement with the public aspect of things, I also decided not to do "casual" play anymore. By casual play, I mean with partners with whom I'm not engaged on some kind of emotional or spiritual level. Some people also call this topping and bottoming because there is not the commitment of a "true" Dominant/submissive relationship. I found that after having a deep connection with Moby, a submissive who I truly loved, playing on the casual level felt empty. I guess once you've been to the buffet, it's real hard to go back. This also means I'm getting a lot less than I used to. On the other hand, what I do get has a lot more flavor.

During my third play party, I found myself wishing the whole darn thing would be over and I could curl up with a good mystery instead. Obviously, this just plain wasn't working for me. In my mind and heart, domination or submission is an intensely personal act. It calls to my spiritual side, demands focus and attention and privacy. Just as my spiritual self does not flourish in a crowd, my D/s nature requires the solitude of silence. It is only in those quiet dark moments that I am most in touch with my higher power, most in touch with my partner, most in touch with myself.

Once I made the decision not to attend public events, and wrote about it of course, the next step was to defend my position. I suppose some people felt I was criticizing their choice to attend play parties. In fact I've written about the many good things that play events can offer, especially from an educational perspective. I'm not saying I'll never play in a group again, only that it is not my modus operendi. I kind of understand people not getting it though. Considering the glamour attached to play parties, I suppose not going to them makes me a bit of an odd duck.

Fellow players take me aside and tell me about the continuum of play, about how many people start out playing privately, and as they become more comfortable with the community, they work up to playing in public. I get the feeling they're trying to convince me that at some point I'll be "ready" for public play.

It's the assumption which really annoys me; that my not playing in public is not so much a choice among many, but rather that somehow I'm "not ready."

For me, the continuum went the opposite way. I started out enamored with the idea of public play but moved the other way toward mostly private play. I wonder why it is that I can't just be where I am with the choices I've made, without it being something that people want me to change. I wonder why the heck anyone would really care whether or not I shake my bon bon in public. I wonder why they assume this is something that should change, or will change. As if somehow I'd be a better person, happier and more fulfilled, if I was attending play parties regularly.

I also sometimes hear other undercurrents, although these are not usually directed at me. Sometimes people assume that players are ashamed of their bodies which must be why they don't want to play in public. Or maybe they think novices wouldn't want to do public play because their inexperience would show. I'm sure both of these things are true for different people at different times, but shouldn't be assumed. Never let it be said I ducked any issues.

In a way, I suppose this orientation reflects my vanilla lifestyle. Despite appearances, I'm a quiet introspective sort. My most connected and spiritual moments are usually alone, or sometimes with one person. So I guess it makes sense my D/s experience might follow the same path. My hope is not that people will follow my lead and avoid play parties, but rather that they will accept every lifestyle choice as a legitimate.

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Sensuous Sadie is a BDSM columnist and edits SCENEsubmissions, a free e-newsletter for the New England area and beyond. She is the founder and leader (1999 - 2001) of Rose & Thorn, Vermont's first BDSM group. Comments, compliments and complaints, as well as requests for reprinting can be addressed to her at SensuousSadie@aol.com or visit her website at www.sensuoussadie.com. Sadie believes the universe is abundant, and that sharing information freely is part of this abundance, so she allows reprints of her writing in most venues.

Copyright 2002 Sadie Sez Publications