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Camp Without the Kink

June 21st, 2010

Dweaver999 tells us about his experience at “Spank ‘A Twisted Tryst'” this year.  “Spankfest” is a kinky camping trip held twice a year in Wisconsin at a “super secret camping location”.

First, let me assure you, my Spankfest experience this year wasn’t totally kinkless.  I got to experience some new types of play and was able to contribute to the spanking collection of a young sub whose absent boyfriend had a birthday recently.  However, I never got to scene with anyone over the four days of Spankfest.  Is it possible to have fun at a kink event without participating in any kink to a significant degree?

First, understand that, in spite of teaching regularly and being a fairly friendly guy, I suffer from near terminal shyness.  I have a hard enough time asking people I do know if they want to play, let alone people I don’t know.  The fact that I still tend to sexualize BDSM even though it’s never been sexual for me, personally doesn’t help.  It took me 6 hours to ask someone I enjoy playing with the first time at a Lucid Encounters event.  It took me two hours to ask her the second time.

So, the fact that I asked 4 people if they wanted to play at Spankfest, two of them new people (for me), is pretty amazing.  None of the four ended up playing with me, each with their own reason, no doubt (some I knew, some I didn’t).  So I didn’t get beat and I didn’t get to beat anyone.  I was looking forward to being able to do one or both.  In spite of not being able to do something I was looking forward to, I actually had a good time. 

How can someone not experience the kinks they were wanting to and still have fun?  Because what I did get to experience was very cool.  During the exploratorium, I was able to experience fire play for the first time and enjoyed it very much.  I didn’t get to do much as the exploratorium is a demo time and others also wanted to explore it, but I do know I’d like to do more of it in the context of a larger scene.

Saturday night, I was able to experience hook pulling for the first time.  From the intense pain of the 10 gauge needles entering, dragging the hooks behind them; to the exquisite pain of forcing the hooks to pull at the skin they’re hooked to; to the sublime tingle of their removal, every part of hook pulling was a wonderful experience.  Now I’m curious about hook suspension (seems nuts, doesn’t it).

My other experiences weren’t so much kinky, as personal.  Someone I met last August at Spank had been through a rough half year since then and wanted to purge that past, and the pain it brought her, out.  Being able to witness that (very emotional) journey, and (possibly) help her with it in a small way, was a pleasure and an honor.

The Spank staff bent over backwards to make my stay enjoyable.  With my need to travel by public carrier, their willingness to pick me up an hour away at, as it turned out, the ungodly hour of 12:45 am, and take me to a local Walmart so I could get my food set up, was truly above and beyond the call.  They let me sleep in the dungeon that first night so I wouldn’t have to set up my tent in the pitch dark.  They’re even intending to take me back to the bus depot Monday.  What can I say beyond thank you?

I was able to talk with several kinksters and compare just what it is that makes us who we are.  The variety of desires, wants, reasons is vast and makes it clear, when you stop and look at them, just how much the kinky community is truly a cross section of the world at large.

So yeah, I went to a kinky camp out, played in no scenes over the four days, and still had a good time.  Because, you see, going to events like Spankfest isn’t just about the kink.  It’s about being with people with whom you can be yourself without fear; fear of being judged, of being ostracized, of losing your job.  It’s about being among people who understand just what makes you tick and being able to relax in that.  As one of my new kinky t-shirts saws; “Pretending to be a normal person every day is exhausting.”  It was nice to just be able to relax for several days.  And you know what?  The only comment I got about the t-shirt that said, “Screw the bad checks, just beat me and whip me,” while I was at Walmart one afternoon was, “Nice shirt.”  Cool.

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