Tuesday, October 08, 2013

A Taste of Kink, you say?

“Are you coming?” The Electrician was asking and for good reason.

That had sort of been the question of the week. I spent the last weekend gallivanting around Chicago, mostly tripping out on the most excellent Iron and Wine concert and I knew that I would be spending at least three out of four nights in the upcoming weekend on a couch. With a looming book deadline I didn’t really think I could justify taking the time off to go to the Taste of Kink.

But then, it is the Taste of Kink.

“All right, all right. I’ll wrap this up and catch the train, but I will probably be a little late.”

Indeed, forgetting that unlike Korea, where you have a train every 15 minutes and always more than enough people to take the train, the trains here are constantly being cut back and cut back, which has the effect of producing even fewer riders, which then reduces the hours even further. It is frustrating, but I managed to catch the four o’clock train, which put me in the city right around six. Unluckily for me there had been the equivalent of a pop-up monsoon on my way to the city, making all sorts of trains late and generally being quite annoying.

I managed to meet a new friend, as I am working on a project to make friends (which is so far going abysmally, and I’ll either write about it later or I won’t) who offered a ride to the event. The trains, however, also had him running late, so all in all it was just a running late sort of night. We drove up, chit-chatting, talking about Chicago, and I tried to prepare the newbie for what he was about to get into.

“Basically we are going to the local dungeon, or at least, one of the local dungeons.”

“Right.”

“There will be naked people. I’m really interested in checking out grinder play.”

“Right.”

So far he was holding up, I was amused. At the same time, I was not going to waste time on friends who can’t deal with the fact that I am kinky. I gave up on that about three years ago, and I was not about to revert to pretending to be different versions of Sara with different people. I have been slowly consolidating the many face of Saradevil into two: Work Sara and me. Sadly, this meant the world now had to deal with all my awesomeness. It would be difficult. The world may not make it out alive.

We managed to get there in one piece, and I even mostly managed to remember how to get us there from LSD. Since new friend couldn’t stay for longer than thirty minutes we parked (most illegally) and headed into the dungeon. It had clearly flooded earlier, but they had managed to mostly get the water problem shored up by the time we got there. I started saying hello to the variety of people I knew while having my ID checked and getting mostly signed in.

Once all in, I went to find the Bard and the Electrician, who were over in a dark corner with the antique vibrators on display. “What, no electroplay?” The Bard turned around, showing that she was in fact all wired up. “Dammit, I wanted some. Oh well.” And with that (as I am wont to do) I slipped out of my dress and into a silk bathrobe. (The bathrobe is more fun for these sorts of things. Although it looks like a pretty silk dress, I still feel indecent wearing it in public.)

I grabbed the newbie and dragged him around to see different things. I made a cursory stop at the dildo table, as they had a few I didn’t have and was very curious about and made a note to come back later. They also had the most interesting collection of fucksaws I had seen, and that I definitely wanted to see more of. There was some needle play in an opposing corner, which I was less interested in, and someone doing vacuum compression play and straightjackets. Of course there was a rigger on the rope set doing suspension on all sorts of women, someone doing introduction to basic canes, and another with a nice flogger display, who got a little put off when I asked if it was elk hide or deer (It was most likely elka little stiffer than deer, but too soft to be buffalo or regular cow). Then I took the newbie around the corner to the grinder area, where they were doing grinder play.

I was very interested in the grinder, but after listening to the instructions decided I wasn’t in the mood. One, if you are wearing any synthetic fiber you have to take it off, and two, the line was REALLY long. Not surprising, as it looks super cool, but cool or not it was time to take the newbie back to his car.

“Uh, we should hang out again.”

“Sure,” I said enthusiastically, having walked him to the car in my bathrobe. I felt so indecent; however, I was really quite decent.

He drove off. I’m pretty sure I’ll never see him again. .

I went back in and back to the dildos and fucksaw table where someone was doing a fucksaw display, i.e. she was having it used on her while we got to watch. There is something fascinating about being able to watch these things in person versus seeing them used in porn. One, this was a real person in front of me, and two, the reactions were very much authentic and real, and this made it fascinating. It’s a much better gauge of weather or not you need to own one of those things when you can actually quiz someone about their experience. This is not to say that was arousing, as in general I didn’t find this to be the case for myself, personally, but more of a fascinating chance to get a glimpse of it. Granted that was the entire point of the Taste of Kink: to provide a taste, a quick glimpse, into the things you have not tried before that might be interesting to try in the future.

Once one person volunteered, more usually lined up, and I moved on from there to see what was happening with the vacuum play. Basically its like this, you're Han Solo and the vacuum bag was your carbonite. It was fine to watch, but I get really claustrophobic sometimes and that much compression really worried me. However I did enjoy watching it being done to other people, so I watched for a few minutes, amused, before heading back over to see how things were progressing in other parts of the dungeon. It was getting close to the end, which meant packing up soon.

“So, do you want some?” Some being an antique vibrator and wanting meant pretty much exactly what one would think it meant.

“I knew I was going to end up being used as a vibrator test dummy.” Not that I minded. I had pretty much turned the entire of kink community of Chicago into fans of antique vibrators due to my love of my dearly departed Andis vibrator: 6000 rpms, non-greasing, self-contained motor…sigh, I loved that machine. (Also, everyone should at some point have a vibrator that plugs into the wall.)

“Gear up and game on,” was basically how that went, which inspired the crowd of exactly one person to request if he could get the same treatment. “Well,” he said “she seems to be enjoying it,” pointing at me. She (being me) at that point could barely stand up, because that is what a turn-of-the-century vibrator will do to a lucky victim.

“Sadly we have to pack up to go. But next time.”

Cause that is how the kink scene rolls, there will always be a next time.

I later asked the newbie if he was all right or if I had scarred him for life.

“I’d hardly call it scarring.”

I was still pretty sure I’d never see that one again, although I was also still pretty amused.

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