​I Took a First Date to be Sexually Electrocuted at a Violet Wand Workshop

Recently, I came to the realization that my sex life is incredibly tame and, as a result, I've been trying to be proactive about mixing things up. This, coupled with my growing intrigue with BDSM and its many subsets, led me to invite a relative stranger to a hands-on workshop on using violet wands. For you vanilla bangers out there, violet wands are electrical kink toys that send small electrical impulses throughout your body.

I didn't want to go alone. I knew I had to choose a non-prude, easygoing young thrill seeker who would perhaps be keen to have the areas surrounding their erogenous zones electrocuted.

After quickly racking my brain, I found my woman—someone I'd recently spent time with at her market place epicerie. It was both her fresh produce and her cowboy boots that had attracted me to her stall. She liked that I was English and spoke French with a sexy yet infant-like accent. I must confess that I was exceptionally attracted to Roxanne.

I let her know that the workshop was $20 and told her to be there or be square and tbh, she couldn't have been more down. She was as intrigued as I was and even sent me a message on Facebook to make sure we were still going.

By chance, I saw her on the two nights prior to the Sunday workshop; at a Friday soiree and at an illegal Saturday concert. Somehow we were still hanging out by 5 AM on both nights, as the frivolities died down, and I couldn't help but realize that the initial sparks of our first encounters had seemingly disappeared.

She cut a figure of disinterest and, perplexed, I was left to trot home with my tail between my legs to smoke a lonely end of night joint.

So by Sunday afternoon, it seemed like the moment had somewhat passed. The compliments about my Englishness had dried up and I was feeling pretty self-conscious and beat down about wooing Roxanne.

She came over to my place around 2 PM and we walked downtown for our first official date, chit chatting about the coincidences of our chance meetings of the past two nights. I concluded that, "Perhaps fate is conspiring something."

I tentatively approached the building where Google Maps led me to believe the workshop was located, and Roxanne suddenly, purposefully beckoned me to follow her. It turns out she'd been here before for a flogging workshop during Montreal's fetish week.

The Montreal workshop itself, located in a room off of a corridor where a hubbub of activities were occurring, was but a mere glimpse into a series of electro-erotica fantasies.

Throughout the workshop, the expert performed almost two hours of kink-charged demonstrations over the naked posterior of the willing model (who sat with their back to us from almost start to finish).

The violet wand demands a relationship of care, as the user of the wand must listen intently to the breathing of their subject. Along with ensuring consent, testing pain tolerance and sheer enjoyment are necessary in order to generate positive experience for both giver and receiver.

The loud music drifting over from the neighbouring yoga studio synthesized with the buzzing noise emitting from the violet wand, which combined to sound like the droning falsetto of a Rihanna remix.

They stressed to us that "This isn't a shut-up-and-take-it domination; you get your high from their pleasure." The sensuality is derived from tiptoeing the thin line between enjoyment and pain, which produces a range of sensations.

The violet wand is an alternative current device that uses Tesla coil principles, which basically means the voltage is high and the current is low. The high voltage discharge of of static electricity against the skin stimulates both the skin and our neural circuit.

As an informational booklet told me, one must remember that "the violet wand can be both your friend and your enemy when badly handled. It can be a tool of relaxation, sensual, sexual or torture."

Made up of ten or so inches of gleaming black plastic, in addition to your choice of a six-inch attachment, from a Waternburg wheel to an LED light, your average violet wand cuts an imposing figure. It's essentially an oversized blunt phallic tool that has more than ample girth, strength, and length.

This thing can do some serious harm if not utilized in the right manner. Luckily we had an expert who brought their $1,100 briefcase packed with violet wand attachments to guide our practice probe.

You have to really be rather careful while waving a very large penis-shaped implement that transmits voltage around another human. Beads of sweat amassed around our instructor's face as they contorted in concentration, delicately oscillating the violet wand around the curves of the model's body.

Most of the workshop participants were keen to be electrocuted themselves. I would hazard a guess that most of us left the downtown room intrigued and more prone to electric seduction. But then again, I can only really talk for Roxanne and myself.

With the electrical currents still lingering around the fizzing hairs of our reddened skin we went to get stoned in an apartment in Montreal's Gay Village. I could not avoid how much more at ease she was with me as she lounged around while the remnants of the electrodermal current transmitted through her skin.

I didn't even play with her during the workshop, we'd each gone off and done our own thing. Maybe she dug watching me electrocute someone else and being electrocuted myself. The modern man is at ease with his sexuality to such an extent that he lets himself be electrocuted by strangers and lovers alike, I thought.

We'd already got foreplay over and done with, collectively, during the workshop. Perhaps that's why she sprawled out across my chaise lounge, inviting me to pounce.

Foreplay is no longer anything like the first base, second base malarky of yore; we electrocute, flog, and push the boundaries of our bourgeois tendencies. Kink is at the vanguard of the foreplay revolution which is increasingly encroaching it's way into popular culture.

My experiences of the day were emblematic of our generation in action. After an afternoon of sexual exploration we delved even deeper into each others' fantasies throughout the evening, as she expressed her desire for me to perform BDSM acts upon her.

The next morning she told me, "Thanks for an impressive 24 hours," before promising to wear plaid, cowboy boots and a chastity belt next time. In fact, she brought along a melange of BDSM play toys including silk bondage ties [which also double as blindfolds, reins, restraints, or aids for good old fashioned leverage], a cat o'nine tails flogger, and a horse whip.

One thing I've learned from this experience is that your date might not be impressed by a trip to a local start-up eatery or an underground club anymore. Avant-garde first dates are the future if you want to a) rapidly get to know someone and b) shock and awe. Don't get left behind at a jazz open mic or a vernissage.

While I don't think I'm going to become an electric play sensei anytime soon, the fact that I advertised myself as non-vanilla from the very outset had unquantifiable results. Although now I'm a little overwhelmed with it all.

One word of warning: apply some sunscreen if you over indulge in a volted consensual exchange.