Imagine, if you will, that you had an opportunity to speed date your way through a crowd of BDSM strangers.
I don’t know about you, but I find the search for play partners a very time consuming process. We all have some very defined and different list of things we want in a partner. Finding just the right person with whom we match wants, needs, and desires is almost impossible. We also hope that potential mates don’t laugh out loud or run away screaming when they find out about the kinky oddities attached at the end of our long lists.
Anyway, I had an opportunity recently to volunteer at a BDSM market event held here in Atlanta. The event was a non-play forum designed for vendors to peddle their wares and a place for folks to come fondle the merchandise and be inspired.
I arrived first thing in the morning as soon as the doors opened. I signed in, got my volunteer badge, and walked into the main vendor area. I was stunned at the number of vendors and buzz of activity at this event. Every room and corner was stuffed with sensual merchandise. People were making last minute adjustments for the pending crowd. The backbone of the community was poised and ready. It was obvious that over the next few hours, a whole bunch of people were going to funnel through this room.
Sure enough, people from all kinds of places and walks of life began to pour through the double doors. There were lots of new faces as wells as folks I had seen before at parties and munches. There were Professionals and green folk alike. And old and new were side-by-side, fondling and contemplating the ideas of object’s inspiration. The rooms quickly filled with and exciting electricity.
I went round and round for three hours, fondling floggers, thinking about what was in my toy chest, running into acquaintances, and finding opportunities to talk dirty. I patted a familiar ass or two and got looked over by a few strangers. I shared in some delightful exchanges as well as spent awkward moments in polite chit-chat.
Looking into the crowds of faces, I noted that each had their on personal reason for arranging their life to make being there a priority on a precious Saturday afternoon. There was something intrinsically important to each of us that we would give up everything else to be in that room, at that time, on that day. Whatever they were looking for, we all hoped it might be hidden or lurking among the paddles and spanking benches.
Leather and chains, cuffs and crops, eye masks and cock rings, oo-la-la. Jewelry and oils, and candles for waxing. Lots of things to lube luscious thoughts. Rabbit skin furs for petting and teasing. Buffalo hides delivering desired thuds. Rubber varieties that lick, kiss, and bite wanting flesh.
Ropes and twine…
and other things divine.
This was the pool to which we all flocked to drink.
So I’m swimming in this pool of stimulated minds and up comes my time to serve.
I’m gonna stop for a second and say that I support the National Coalition for Sexual Freedom. I had no idea such an organization existed. That there are people out there giving their time and money to support my right to express myself in a very personal level and not get lynched, is really important to me.
Thank you, whoever you are.
Back to the story. Me and two others were verbally issued instruction for our volunteer hour. It’s a fundraising Bake Sale. Okay, I got it. We all line up as the torch of confectionary control is loosely handed over. We kinda stand around to see who’s gonna end up doing what.
Taking a personal inventory, what am I good at? I’m a Dominant personality (BDSM definition put aside, but not discounted completely). I’m not shy. I’m good at marketing. I’m good at getting folks attention. I’m good with personal communications. Gathering these talents, I focus on being a PR/sales person. Let’s sell some cookies.
I stand there, oddly chatting with folks and answering basic questions, the most popular of the moment being, “Which ones have nuts?” Not having a clue, I spend the first few minutes reading in dim light recipes printed on colored paper. Not so fun.
Okay, so now I’ve got 50 more minutes of volunteer time. People are wandering and meandering around in various states of titillation and disinterest. So I remind myself that the point was not to get a cookie for $1, but the raise funds to support those fighting to protect our rights.
So it hits me that I’m standing in this booth designed to support the protection of “Sexual Freedom”. It’s to raise money to help defend my right to express myself sexually. Okay, than let’s test it.
The next “customer” is a woman. She’s dressed in a black dress. Probably 5’ 4” and I’m guessing about 240 pounds. Mid 40s. Average appearance. Looks like anybody I’d meet at the grocery store. She’s paying me no mind and trying to read over a cake label. She’s holding in her hands a color postcard with something of a BDSM sexual nature on it. I make a slight move toward her and get her attention.
I open my mouth and out comes, “Did you hear about our special? Between now and 4 o’clock, every person that purchases a goody to support the National Coalition of Sexual Freedom gets a free bonus. If you are so inclined, you are invited to grope or be groped by me.”
I stepped back as to not come across too pushy and displayed an inviting smile.
Her head cocked slightly with an inquisitive look til she turned back to the table of sweets and said, “I’ll take a slice of pie and those cookies.”
When the cookie transaction completed, she emptied her arms and put them down by her side, lifted her shoulders back to display her breasts, and stepped toward me and proclaimed, “Alright, now YOU may please ME.”
...The only difference between an ordinary situation and an extraordinary situation is just that little extra. Look for opportunities to encourage just that.
For the next 50 minutes, I had the most awesome opportunity to get a spectacular and personal view into a bunch of people’s lives. How much time would it have taken me to get that much information if I had opted to limit my search to www dot insertnameofkinycruisingwebsitehere dot com?
Anyway, my point is that I got to share in some very exciting experiences with a bunch of fun folks for almost an hour. Now I don’t know how many folks came through, but let’s assume that I processed 1 every 2 minutes. That would be 25 people. I know that at some points, there were coming in much quicker than that, so I’m going to up my guess to say 40 people crossed my path.
Out of those 40 folks, let’s assume there’s a bell curve covering our shared experiences.
At the bottom of the bell curve is the folks that had no interest in my invitation. No harm done. Let’s move on.
In the middle is the majority of folks that took it anywhere from light hearted to semi serious. There was groping and teasing, and rubbing of breasts, and fortuitous accidental brushes across men’s crotches. This group was full of smiles and hugs and nasty little thoughts.
Side note: One fair lass in her late 20s had a rack on her that was just so delightful. What a pleasure to get close to those things. I’m proud to say that I had my hands on them and can confirm that they felt JUST as good as they looked. She stood there just giggling with innocence, almost mesmerized by her own mischief. Each time I would pull away slightly, she would signal like she wanted some more. I wonder if that was the first time a woman had touched her so.
I’ll never know.
Sorry, I got distracted. Back to the bell curve…
Now at the top of this bell curve, I found erotic interest and immediate connection. There were hands that touched me in a way that sent up little green flags of pending delight. That did not give me an excuse or permission to act on any of the information. It was simply noted. For me, it was an affirmation that I have placed myself in a community churning with possibilities.
I was able to find out more information in an average of 18.4 seconds per person of frisky fondling than I could ever uncover in a week of e-mail exchanges with any one of them. I can’t imagine how long it would take me to go through 40 separate personalities via electronic communication.
Needles… haystacks… you get the picture.
And what came of it? As intended, the NCSF was supported by all those folks. And whether they knew it or not, those participating came away having had a chance to revel in the rights for which this organization fights.
And me? Hey… I just shared with you that I got to fondle and be fondled by a bunch of happy and kinky people. Not a bad Saturday in my book.
Artemis Current Mood: artistic