This will be the first of my journal entries recounting my experiences at each of the kink events I attend since moving back to NYC. It will take a little catching up from May but it should be do-able even though some details may have faded. More is coming
At the ending of May I jumped back into exploring the BDSM scene.
The Eulenspiegel Society was holding two events:
I had heard of TES while I was exploring the scene in Syracuse and now I was close enough to see what all the talk was about.
This sounded too good to be true. Just as I had started looking to see how I could get involved locally, an event appears that seemed tailor-made for me.
Even though I had attended kink events Upstate, I was still nervous. And this time I was going without my significant other.
After work, I navigated my way to Paddles. I looked at the awning with the street number for the place big and bold. Climbed the steps. Peeked inside. Looked at the buzzer list. Went back down the steps.
I thought “am I in the right place?” I was totally confused.
I walked back up the street a little ways in the direction I’d come and that’s when I saw the sign. It said Paddles and was accompanied by an arrow pointing presumably to my destination. The sign was on the back of an open door I had totally bypassed. You could only see the sign coming from the opposite direction I had come.
I followed the arrow. Walked through these weird clear plastic curtain strips, the sort you see at large supermarkets where the frozen foods have their own refrigerated section of the store. I walked past a suit of armor next to a sign advertising a men’s only event. This is when things became dark and darker as I went down a set of stairs.
I heard laughter and genuinely felt like Alice going down the rabbit hole. But then I emerged into a lighted area.
Paddles really does make me think of a basement, a large industrial basement. Not quite a warehouse. Not quite. I gave the fee for the workshop to a cheerful volunteer and took a seat.
Several others arrived and the presentation began. And it was more of a presentation or lecture than a discussion. We didn’t introduce ourselves or briefly state our varying levels of knowledge which I think made for a quiet audience with no questions. The presentation touched on rudimentary BDSM topics and was less focused on the history and “about” of the organization. It wasn’t adjusted to fit the current attendees. We were given a handy dandy pamphlet with words and definitions.
One thing of value that I did take away was a reinforcement of my values on how I connect with people here on Fetlife. In other words, only connecting to individuals I deem credible and those I’ve met in person, being careful even there. A lesson that was to be driven home by interactions I had with two people I met at subsequent kink events (entries on this forthcoming).
After the lecture, we toured the club and then were given the option to stay for the party for an additional cost. I stayed.
The lights went down and the atmosphere of the place changed entirely.
I couldn’t help comparing Paddles to the dungeon we visited for parties with the Syracuse D/s Society. Descending into that place shifted my mindset immediately. It was a surreal experience. If I was a tuning fork, that dungeon thrummed in my key and without so much as touching me I vibrated to match. I could see myself over any bench, tied in the rope station, strapped to that lovely solid unmovable cross with all of our names on the wall behind it.
If there is such a thing as event drop, I felt it every time after a party there especially because I was able to go to parties continuously as I would have liked at the time.
This was not so with Paddles. It didn’t match my personal style. Wasn’t thrumming to my frequency. I didn’t feel I wanted to become vulnerable there. If anything I felt like putting on an extra layer of protection rather than taking off one.
The atmosphere is just different. And public. One big difference between Paddles and the dungeon Upstate is that that dungeon was someone’s private dungeon. Wear and tear is barely there. I miss it. I want to have such a dungeon in a home of my own some day.
I walked around. Snacked on Polly-O cheese and other finger foods TES laid out for the event.
My favorite parts of the club were the upstairs where I could sit and watch everyone down below and the more hidden nooks here and there. There’s a stage where upon the same cheerful volunteer was receiving a florentine flogging from a lovely woman who was singing opera while administering. I have to say I was mesmerized.
I know that part of what I desire in BDSM is spiritual. Something transcendent. Exaltation. Exultation. I felt I was observing part of that in this particular scene.
I watched a very stylish TES member, who had spoken during the workshop and represented the Board, showing a gothy couple pointers in tying rope.
I climbed the stairs to watch this and a guy was at the top of the stairs. I said hello because I’m a polite person. Shook hands and gave my name before intending to move past and sit. This was the moment the guy took my hand and kissed it which sent all kinds of creeped out disgust waves crawling across my skin. I sat and he decided to sit beside me and lean uncomfortably close asking questions.
First question: “What are you?”
I was tempted to say “a human being.”
Instead I leaned away and asked him what he meant while keeping my eyes on the rope instruction. He goes on to say Dominant or submissive while continuing to be creepy. I said “Switch.” To which he says, “Ahh, but which do you lean more towards?” It goes on to him asking if anything interesting was going on tonight. I know my expression must have included disbelief. In my mind, everything was interesting. But he hadn’t been to the workshop which only had a handful of people. He was a Paddles regular (or maybe not) and he was just trying to pick up someone.
I won’t describe age or race. Bad behavior spans these things and is always disgusting regardless.
I scraped him off my shoe and continued to wander and drift, sidestepping him, the second time we crossed paths.
I stayed much longer than I thought I was going to. Towards the end of the night, my attention was caught again by a scene in the back of the club near the medical table.
A girl, wearing a pretty green or was it blue corset, was tied up by a guy. He was tickling her amongst other sensation related things. For the rest of my time at the party I watched. (I met both of them at a later party and connected with them on Fetlife yay!)
Afterwards, I went home and slept for a long time.
Overall, my first experience in the NYC scene was very enjoyable.