I’ve had this fantasy for so long that I’m almost ashamed to admit my level of perversion; I was 12 when I found myself frequently visiting an outrageous and steamy scenario. I dreamt of sex in a room with other couples – watching their movements, hearing the moans – I dreamt of feeding off the sexual energy and being overwhelmed with the sheer act. I was probably 20 when I discovered that sex clubs were in fact a real place where normal people would go to have sex, and that my long-lived fantasy wasn’t so far fetched.
My boyfriend and I have talked about going to Oasis Aqualounge since basically our first date, so for our two-year anniversary, it was time. Hot Springs Wednesday was our poison – complete with Sybian rides, spectator sex, and a dungeon monitor. You might think on a Wednesday night, it wouldn’t be much more crowded than a standard bar, and you would be wrong; the crowd was bountiful and electric.
When I was researching for this expedition, I wanted so much for a breakdown of the experience, the amenities, the culture, etc. and this is what I hope I can provide for eager attendees who might be going in with a sense of the unknown.
It’s like the biggest, most rule-breaking house party you’ve ever been to, due to the fact that resides in a beautiful, 3-story, late 19th century mansion (of which you can read all about the history here). It’s like Gatsby’s sex party**
** OMG please Oasis do this as a theme night.
The entrance off Mutual street took us through a series of large metal doors, one of which was locked until the woman in reception buzzed us on through. From here, we waited in a curtained- off area from the rest of the club to sign an agreement, present ID, and pay cover ($50 for a couple/single men tonight).
Immediately I was surprised; peeking through the curtain, you could see the first floor was a bit of a night club area – a DJ (backlist by some hot threesome porn) pumped pop music through the main bar and flashy, ambient dance floor. The surprise didn’t come from being a sex club – it came from seeming exactly like any other shitty club. It wasn’t though, because that’s the thing – there’s something for everyone.
Off that area is the hot tub with some washrooms & extra lockers – the hot tub is the one and only place in the house that you can’t have sex. My least favourite part was that in order to activate the jets, you had to ask an employee, which no one did. So it was a bowl of warm naked people soup.
Just beyond this section leads to the outdoor pool, where heat lamps warm your path to the shallow end of the (very) heated pool.
The main locker room is on the second floor. I knew the locker room was co-ed (much like the washrooms), but to my surprise there was no washroom or little change area off to the side to get changed in.
The second floor is also home to Playroom #1; Sybian rides were hosted that night, while about 15 people leaned and sat against a room-sized vinyl sofa, applauding for each orgasm achieved. Across the hall was the dungeon, with dungeon monitor Gregory running the room’s spanking, whipping, rope play, and every other aspect you can imagine. This is the room where you’ll find benches, a sawhorse, shackles, chains, and a veritable toychest of pain infliction.
Upstairs is strictly off-limits to unchaperoned single men, and this is where most of the sex happens, with 5 separate playrooms as well as The Red Bar which has small windows looking into one of the curtained off playrooms. The playroom in the far back features the rear façade of a 60’s van, with groovy artwork and lights setting the mood for a shagadelic time. My boyfriend desperately wanted to fuck here.
It could be easy to lose people here; I described it as the Maddy of sex clubs, with so many floors and rooms to get lost in, except unlike the Maddy I don’t want to kill humanity when I’m here.
The Clothing (Or Lack Thereof)
For this night, I bought a really sexy outfit with lace and garters that would have my breasts just hanging out the whole night, discreetly adorned with some lace pasties. But because I’ve spent much of my life being overdressed for events, I also brought the backup of a long black tank top that didn’t quite cover my bum.
When we walked in, 90% of people were in towels, so I quickly stashed away my kinky outfit in favour of something more casual. However as the night wore on and I got more comfortable, I got the feeling that you really could wear whatever you wanted and no one would bat an eye in either direction. The dress code always says wear whatever you want, but it really is true. There was everything from completely naked to completely clothed and everything in between.
And if you ask me what my favourite thing about sex clubs is so far, it’s this…. NO PANTS IN PUBLIC. I was SO comfortable and I want that to be my life now.
My boyfriend talked about his favourite element of Oasis: how all the people were completely different. People of all shapes, size, ethnicity, gender, sexuality; seeing them all out in the open was truly the epitome of the human canvas.
What’s better is the atmosphere that all this diversity creates. I felt more comfortable butt naked on a vinyl couch surrounded by strangers with my fat and creases showing, than I’ve ever felt in some stuffy nightclub. You can’t hide who you are, and you have no reason to, and it’s the most accepting community of people I’ve ever had the joy of being a part of.
We didn’t get to talk to as many people as we’d have liked; this particular night was the after-party of some movie and the meetup of a kink Facebook group, so it was a bit more segregated than I expected. However it was easy enough to throw a kind smile or interject a quick line into some nearby casual conversation. I never once felt judged, I never even felt ogled; it was truly a place to be whatever you want.
My favourite person there was probably Gregory, the dungeon monitor. The burly, older, hairy man in a long black kilt sported clear spectacles and a kind, warm demeanor when it came to explaining kink in a consensual and approachable manner. Just watching him spank & tie up participants in a loving, intricate way was fascinating and arousing while providing genuine entertainment for a room full of onlookers. Also in the dungeon at the end of the night was a nice onlooker who kindly lent me his cane to whip my boyfriend with. Aww.
I would love to go with friends some time; I have no friends who would ever go, of course, but I did find myself vaguely envious of those groups who chatted and played around in the pool and treated it more as a social event than a sexual adventure.
With everything I’ve written about until now, I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. But if there was one thing I knew going into this night, it was that there WOULD be sex.
And there was. We were only one drink and a couple laps of the house in before I nudged my boyfriend into a third floor playroom where two other couples were moaning, fucking, and spanking away. We sucked and fucked away in a far corner, facing the door without shame; to my surprise I not only had zero problems fucking in front of others, but I thrived on it. Once in a while I caught the eye of the woman nearby who was being finger-banged within an inch of her life, or could feel the eyes on my back from the guy getting a blowjob behind me as I rode my boyfriend. It was comfortable in every way.
As per my boyfriend’s wish, we fucked in the Mystery Machine. How much did he want this? We seriously waited outside the room for a couple minutes while the other couple finished up; no no, we’re not watching, we’re fulfilling a weird high school fantasy that we’re both too young to have had.
We began to fool around in the back of the van (oh my life), he was sitting and I was on my knees bent over as a sucked my boyfriend’s cock. A man appeared in the bead-curtained doorway and asked if he could spank me; he and my boyfriend spanked (hard!) until I’d had enough and the man nicely introduced himself and left. It was an eerily civilized situation.
Lastly, at the end of the night we sat in the dungeon, watching things wind down, and I persuaded my boyfriend to bend over the bench. The selection of instruments was impressive – rope, floggers, crops, whips, canes, dildos, plugs – and I started playing around with a suede flogger when two women came in and asked to throw in a few hits of their own. I watched them strike him hard with their crops, to the point where it’s the morning after and a quick pat leaves him breathless.
Perhaps down the road we’ll branch out into a bit more devious sex acts, but as a first visit I couldn’t be happier with how it went, the people we met, and the overall atmosphere of this really accepting and adventurous culture.