This may remind you of a typical evening at home, or it might be some of the many depraved memories you can take home with you after having dined at La Maison de Sade, an S & M-themed restaurant on 23rd Street and 7th Avenue.

I myself ended up there one evening after searching for a slop house while enjoying a pleasant meander downtown. I had been expressing my outrage at the growing acceptance and prominence of homosexual culture to my 13-year old companion, when a little doorway next to a nail salon opened itself to me like Dido's legs for Aeneas.

What we walked into just about made my pacemaker skip a beat. La Maison de Sade was unlike any restaurant I had ever seen. At first, I found the dark red decor and the dance music a bit soothing, as it reminded me of my days in the Polish navy. But slowly I began to notice some very odd decorations adorning the place. I should have known something was up when my companion asked me what the large metal cage was for. Ah, to be young and innocent...

We decided to just have dessert, myself choosing the aforementioned choco-stiletto heel, and my companion the bedpan delight. We were just finishing our sweets when the evening took a turn for the macabre. Seemingly out of nowhere, one of our fellow patrons was led to a metal rack in the middle of the floor, stripped to his skivvies and strapped by his wrists to the darn contraption.

Bobbi, a waitress dressed in tasteful black latex, then blindfolded him and proceeded to flog him with all of her might, utilizing several different whips and paddles in the process. Worst of all, the man was obviously enjoying the whole ordeal, right there, in front of everyone. The other diners were shouting their approval with lascivious glee. By the time Bobbi was dripping hot candle wax all over the manÍs back, I had nearly regurgitated my chocolate shoe.

Perhaps what irked me so was that these people were doing it all right out in the open, with others eating dinner around them. Of course, a fetish is a fetish, and whatever you want to do in the privacy of your own home is up to you. Who cares if some Washington bully calls is "wrong" or "dirty" or "endangering the welfare of a child." Who are they to put a price on love?

But am I wrong, or are these things supposed to be kept quiet? You can't expect people to enjoy a meal while you indulge your freakish obsessions in front of them, right? Apparently not everyone in this city agrees with me.

We didn't leave immediately, partly because I liked the music so much and partly because my companion was scared stiff. As the evening wore on, I must say that my curiosity got the better of me. It had been some time since someone had spanked me good and naughty, and Talia, the waitress dressed as a Catholic schoolgirl, seemed more than capable. So, to test the waters, I forced my companion up and paid the $20 charge for the standard service. (They weren't too keen at first, but I lied, said I was his dad, and signed a waiver.) Mercy, he screamed like a 13 year-old girl, which isn't really that difficult for a 13 year-old boy, but electrifying all the same.

While Nina, the manager, was helping to ice down my poor little friend's underside, I decided to have a go, and bought myself a turn as well. Boy oh boy, what a ride. The way she would tease various parts of my body with soft seductive strokes just before the whip came cracking down...Oh, it was magical.