HUZZAH! A BDSM Festival For a Novice (part one)

Today’s post comes from George Allwynn, a talented writer I blog with on another site. George has three novellas set to release this winter and we’re hopeful he’ll come back and share some of his work with us as it gets closer to the release dates.

Welcome, George! We’re thrilled to read what you have to share on your first BDSM experience.

This is a journalistic article on my experiences at a 24-hour BDSM festival (including lock down). Everything written is true.

When I think of dominating someone – of being in control of their pain or pleasure, I get an odd sensation in my stomach that travels down to my tingling groin.  It’s a fantasy of mine, one I engage myself several times a year in reading or a quick, forbidden glance behind the safe Internet zone.

So, when I had the chance to attend my first BDSM festival and seminar across state a year ago, I salivated for weeks.  Would I go?  I mean, it would help me with upcoming m/m erotica ideas. Practically like research.

What would I see? What would I learn?  Most importantly – what would I be able to do?

That thought alone lead to many nights of masturbating delights.

I’m not sure how I came about receiving the BDSM information. I remember the post mentioning there were classes, hands on projects, demos, a few dealer tables, an actual working dungeon, a large dinner and after that, a coming out show.  I wasn’t sure what all those things meant, but I did realize a golden opportunity. I answered the RSVP, and within a couple of days, received my directions to the place that would change my way of thinking for months to come.

My mystic experience began on an overcast, cool Saturday morning, driving towards the Red Moon Rising, a BDSM community cloaked in a sleepy, unsuspecting village in southwest Michigan.

The club was located out on a county road, in the middle of an apple orchard. When I drove up in my mini-van at ten a.m., there were already thirty-five cars from five different states and two out of country Providences taking up space on the lush high grassy field parking lot. Later in the afternoon, the body account would max out over seventy-five people in attendance.

The building itself was a large white 70’s style multi-level house with five different additions built on. As I approached the monstrosity, I was perplexed over the lack of an apparent entryway. A secret door?  Perhaps “Open Sesame”?

From my left, behind an overgrown Rose of Sharon bush, I heard a rustle of grass and a smoker’s cough.  Stepping into view, was a rather pleasant, older gent, with a Grizzly Adams look to him, sporting a pair of reading glasses and a wooden walking cane.

He undressed me with his stare. Though I wanted to cover myself, I threw my shoulders back and stood proud. I had nothing to be ashamed of. Kinks are what make a person interesting.

Moments later, as if I passed a test, the old man leered at me, beckoning me to follow him on a well-worn path through the tall weeds. He led back behind the house where the entrance was hidden, between a small maze of wooden fencing and oil drums.  Fifteen paces later, I was escorted into the back yard.

The back yard was huge, with a fifteen-foot privacy fence all around, a smoldering fire pit, a weathered redwood deck with multiple couches and tables on it.  In one corner of the yard, sat a small pool.  Off from the deck, a bubbling Jacuzzi with six people already in, teasing their genitalia with the rush of water coming from the vents.  A few tents were set up for sleeping under the stars, as well as a large area for fun and games in the great outdoors.

Some of the games were already beginning, as a couple jumped out of the Jacuzzi and chased one another, their nakedness not phasing anyone.

With my hand shaking a bit excitedly upon the knob, I swung the screen door open and entered the house at basement level.  As I approached the ladies at registration, I took note of the bold, red-letter sign above their heads:

Clothing Optional

That alone, told me to prepare for anything.

Once signed in and my fee for the classes paid, I glanced about, taking stock of the place. I felt a bit giddy.  There was a carnival feel in the atmosphere, filled with bright sounds, electric smells and exhilarating sights.

The trill of greeting, when friends reunited, rose to meet me. The laughs, the curses, the taste of cigarette and cigar smoke, live Celtic music, strange snacks and other nibbles in naughty shapes — all served to entice the registered attendee. Dealer tables displayed an array of interesting items, knives, jewelry, leather goods and some toys I had no idea what purpose they were for until I asked… and then, I had the good decency to blush.

As a newbie, I was encouraged by several greeters to explore the club.  One of the them was a Mistress who decided to take it upon herself to show me around – as long as I lead her naked, male slave by the penis. I was more than happy to, giving the shaft tugs as the handsome man moaned in compliance to follow.

We toured the huge, compound-like building.  It had two classrooms set up – one upstairs, one downstairs.  There was an ugly orange locker room, where two women were side by side, bent over a changing bench with their smooth, rounded asses in the air.  We watched while a man slid his dick inside one wet pussy, rocked a few times, pulled out and slid in the other wet slot, rocked a few times, only to repeat himself with the first woman.  The Tour Mistress walked over, introduced me to the gentleman, and we shook hands. But I doubt he would remember my name.

Past the reception area, we entered a library. Tethered to a bolt in the wooden floor was a red headed girl, no more than nineteen years old. She was dressed in a prudish 50’s style and humbled her self before the Mistress and I.

The Mistress ordered her to get up. As she did, the Mistress bent the girl over a study table and pulled up her skirt, revealing a bare ass with a small, thin metal strip traveling down between her legs. Without being told, the girl spread her legs and gave a soft moan, as the Mistress brought her hand down with two, swift slaps.

Allowing the girl to rise and straighten her skirt, I was informed that the girl was an aide to the regular librarian, and it was customary to give her a few token slaps on the butt just to keep her in check. The thin metal I saw was part of a homemade chastity belt.

The Mistress then informed the aide she would be showing me what was in the library, and that she should sit in a chair, skirt hiked up, legs spread and allow a slave boy to ‘wash the insides of her thighs’ with his tongue. There would be no moaning and the slave was not allowed to become hard.  Failure to complete the tasks while we were there would mean penalty for tonight’s lock down entertainment. Both subs did as told.

I looked around the library for the first time.  The room was used for reading and multi-media study.  One side of the wall was nothing but a floor to ceiling, large dark bookcase. Among the shelves sat tasteful, yet erotic statues of people having sex, in every shape, size and medium. Accompanying the statues were suggestive looking candles and odd-shaped, glass blown devices I would later learn were glass dildos.

The books were neatly arranged, with topics from oral, anal, heterosexual, homosexual and group sex, fantasy sex, strange fetishes, bondage, dominance, submissiveness, knot tying, whips, taking care of equipment/toys, how to make your own dungeon, piercings, tattoos, branding, cook books, health issues, relationship issues, travel books for fetish playgrounds, camp sites and other festivals, and exotic travel.

On another wall, was a smaller bookcase, over crowed with DVDs and some old VHS tapes of sexual nature, some, I was informed, were recorded here on the premises. That is how they made money to keep up with the land taxes.

Lastly, were several older computers and security cameras. Each room in the building was watched, making sure no scene became out of control. The Mistress smiled as she grabbed her slave boy by the hair, raising him to his feet.

“That is especially important on a night of lockdown.”

Further up the hall, pass the huge bathrooms, was also a DJ booth, a warped dance floor, a bar, a beautiful working dungeon (with a stage for ‘coming out’ shows, which I was told there would be some initiates later that evening.)

Climbing the stairs that lead to the second level, I found three alcoves set up like living rooms, six smaller bathrooms with showers only, and fifteen bedrooms, Each bedroom was equipped with two clean queen size beds, chains and tethers on the beds, bolts in the floor, hooks in the ceiling.  There was no pretense of what one would do in such a room.

It was also on this floor where the ‘theater’ was (for live, professional performances) and two very medically sterile rooms for piercings and where ‘other things’ were performed…

Soon, we looped back down to the main floor, where I discovered a basement below the original basement – known as the ‘Blue Room’.  (Named for the blue lamp hanging over the doorway.)

The Mistress said if that lamp was turned on, it signaled an orgy was going on downstairs.

She then excused herself and her boy, saying she had to get ready for her class.  I went ahead, grabbed a plate and hit the snack buffet. I found a quite spot to sit and do what writers do best: observe my surroundings.

The variety in costumes I saw was as different as the people who wore them.  The bald-headed master of ceremonies wore a black tuxedo.  Beefy and handsome men wore black leather vests and pants and a few women wore Renaissance looking garments, their breasts lifted and bare under their lacings.

There were good-girl Catholic school outfits paired with frilly cotton cuffed socks and red stiletto heels, beautifully embroidered Japanese silk kimonos, long black dusters topping chain mail loin cloths or clock work, well placed tassels.  I saw French ‘Can-can’ girl outfits, some in high heels and beaded corsets (including a post-op trans wearing a brilliant red leather strip with sliver stud/chains/hoops teddy.)

For role-playing times two, there was a Master Klingon definitely in control of a tethered (and tattered) Star Fleet officer, and a Vampire dressed man with a harem of three, see-through, long negligee-wearing women with frou-frou slippers on their feet.  Lastly, there were a handful of people who came dressed ‘Friday/work-casual’; their only tell was the collar, handcuff, or leash attached between pet and owner.

One of the first things that opened my eyes was the diversity I mingled with. I couldn’t label these people as freaks, deviants, or creepy looking.  The potpourri of humanity mixed, baking into a delicious recipe for fun and thrills.

There was young, old, straight, gay, lesbian, married, engaged, single, moms, dads, grandparents, bald, hairy, shaved, black, white, Oriental, Indian, fat, skinny, tall, short, gorgeous, not so attractive (to put it nicely), brazen, shy, masters, slaves, doms and subs (and to my surprise, a good portion of those submissive were men!)  Another surprise was the fairly large, overweight women who had the confidence and the self-esteem to wear some of that sexy stuff.

And the best was yet to come!

(Part two coming October 2010. Contains class homework sessions.)

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Thanks for sharing, George! We appreciate you blogging with us today. I can hardly wait to read how the rest of the weekend went.

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About C.J. Ellisson

I'm a full-time writer. My debut novel, VAMPIRE VACATION, released this fall in ebook and print. I'm currently working on its sequel, THE HUNT, a middle grade fantasy, BLACK IS FOR LIES, and an ongoing erotica serial called "Johnny Living Dangerously".
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3 Responses to HUZZAH! A BDSM Festival For a Novice (part one)

  1. DC Juris says:

    Awesome post! Can’t wait to see what happened next!

  2. Greta Goddard says:

    Great job George – eagerly anticipating part 2!

  3. Whitley Gray says:

    Good job. Always wondered what this sort of place was like…

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