Inevitable spankingtheatre:
The taxi-pod conveys me swiftly, just one of thousands of tiny metal corpuscles skimming across the city’s asphalt veins. I’m all alone in my little speeding bubble. I remember grandad telling me how taxis used to have drivers, and how we laughed at how preposterous that all seemed. That people used to control their road vehicles by treading on pedals and turning a wheel. What were they operating? Steamships?
I often wonder what dear old grandad would make of London now, whether he’d even recognise it. The skyline now resembles a giant apothecary shelf, countless rows of colourful glass towers, like a higgledy collection of antique medicine bottles. They said The Flood would drown this city, but we just dammed the Thames and kept building higher.
And what would my dear grandfather make of my destination, I wonder? If I told him what was about to happen, would he be shocked? Or would he just bellow with laughter, with that infectious mirth of his that soon moistened the eyes of all in earshot. Would he regard my future as ridiculous as we found his past?
Because I’m on my way to be spanked. Or fucked. Or licked. Or teased and pleasured and tormented. To be honest, I’ve no idea what’s in store. But that’s all part of the fun. It’s a very 22nd century way to spend an afternoon.
My destination is Sexcapade, Inc. The pioneers of recreational sexual adventures. The business sensation of the decade, the inspiration behind a thousand meagre low-rent copycats. But none of its competitors has come close to surpassing the variety, subtlety and outrageous ingenuity that Sexcapade experiences continue to provide.
The idea behind Sexcapade is astonishingly simple: using your sexual past to inspire your sexual future. But this simple idea had to wait until the cultural climate was right, until we lost our prudishness, and finally admitted to ourselves that sexual experiences were just activities like any other in life. That great sex could be scripted, crafted, and enacted. That great sex was too important to be left to fate…
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The taxi-pod conveys me swiftly, just one of thousands of tiny metal corpuscles skimming across the city’s asphalt veins. I’m all alone in my little speeding bubble. I remember grandad telling me how taxis used to have drivers, and how we laughed at how preposterous that all seemed. That people used to control their road vehicles by treading on pedals and turning a wheel. What were they operating? Steamships?
I often wonder what dear old grandad would make of London now, whether he’d even recognise it. The skyline now resembles a giant apothecary shelf, countless rows of colourful glass towers, like a higgledy collection of antique medicine bottles. They said The Flood would drown this city, but we just dammed the Thames and kept building higher.
And what would my dear grandfather make of my destination, I wonder? If I told him what was about to happen, would he be shocked? Or would he just bellow with laughter, with that infectious mirth of his that soon moistened the eyes of all in earshot. Would he regard my future as ridiculous as we found his past?
Because I’m on my way to be spanked. Or fucked. Or licked. Or teased and pleasured and tormented. To be honest, I’ve no idea what’s in store. But that’s all part of the fun. It’s a very 22nd century way to spend an afternoon.
My destination is Sexcapade, Inc. The pioneers of recreational sexual adventures. The business sensation of the decade, the inspiration behind a thousand meagre low-rent copycats. But none of its competitors has come close to surpassing the variety, subtlety and outrageous ingenuity that Sexcapade experiences continue to provide.
The idea behind Sexcapade is astonishingly simple: using your sexual past to inspire your sexual future. But this simple idea had to wait until the cultural climate was right, until we lost our prudishness, and finally admitted to ourselves that sexual experiences were just activities like any other in life. That great sex could be scripted, crafted, and enacted. That great sex was too important to be left to fate…
Read More
