I received an invitation from a friend to attend the (unspecified city’s name) Leather Alliance vendors fair with her and her husband. The Leather Alliance is a regional BDSM association. My friend used to be very involved in the BDSM scene when she lived in this city. I’d never have guessed this. I immediately agreed to go. It sounded like fun and I’ve been curious about the scene since I recently found out that Sweetpea (my wife) has been reading erotic BDSM fiction for the last five years totally unbeknownst to me. She disabused me of many notions that I had on the subject. I had always assumed that there was dark sadism and cruelty involved and that the submissive partner was talked into it with fear and trepidation. I was completely wrong. Instead, it is a mutual agreement, indeed a contract, with negotiated terms of limits and boundaries that involves trust with a great deal of responsibility upon the dominant partner to care for the submissive and respect those boundaries. It is a power exchange with each getting what they need from each other. She had encouraged me to investigate and judge for myself this community as she thought it might be interesting to me. Due to my multidisciplinary skill sets (metalworking and machining, welding, woodworking, plasticworking, etc.), I’ve been fascinated with the hardware side of the scene and stated in the past that I wish I was into this kind of thing as I felt that I could make some pretty fine and interesting implements with which to participate.

The fair was a real eye opener for me. The attendees were everyday people, our neighbors. There were school teachers, doctors, blue collars, white collars, auto mechanics and executives. All ages were represented from early twenties to mid seventies. While there were some chiseled gym bunnies, most were of average body types. There was a surprising lack of multi-pierced and heavily inked goths. 

The wares exhibited ranged from padded leather restraint cuffs to needles, riding crops to rubber articles, soft leather flogs to glass dildos on leather harnesses. There were paddles made from beautiful laminated woods, hand forged aluminum, and machined stainless steel. Most amazing of all, to me, was the fact that 90% or more of the items at the thirty or so tables were handcrafted by the people selling them. I saw only a very few mass-produced items. Both the vendors and buyers were relaxed and easy-going with a surprisingly low number of people putting on false airs of superiority. There were smiles and laughs, handshakes and hugs, genuine displays of affection for close friends and exclamations of delight at the appearance of dear friends long unseen. These were people attending just another arts and crafts show.

The admission was a mere three dollars. The articles available for purchase were quite modestly priced and affordable by nearly anyone’s measure. The feeling I had was that they wanted everyone to be able to play with toys. This is not to say there were no extravagant items commanding higher prices. Those items were expertly crafted using fine materials and displayed proudly by their makers. One that caught my eye was an elaborate bullwhip braided from three colors of tanned and dyed kangaroo hide. I wouldn’t prefer to be on either end of it but I greatly admired the craftsmanship of that incredible work of art.

I was informed that there would be a “play party” later that evening in the very same halls that we were in. I was very hesitant about going to it at first, but, as time went by and I met so many genuinely nice people, I was warming to the idea. Bear in mind that this was a completely new experience for me. I’d never been to anything remotely like this fair let alone an event such as the coming party, pun intended. By the end of the fair I not only decided to purchase a ticket, twenty dollars, but to also buy a membership, ten dollars. By doing so I also received a five dollar discount on the ticket.

I’m house sitting some forty miles from home and didn’t have a thing to wear to the night’s coming affair. I quickly remedied that by stopping at a Goodwill superstore on the way home. For a mere thirty bucks I secured a fantastic pair of tight low-cut hiphugger jeans, a nice collared shirt, a sharp looking double buckled leather belt, and a pair of modest low top leather shoes, all in black. I’ve never thought I looked great in black but I was looking pretty good if I don’t say so myself.

Earlier in the day I was concerned that I’d chicken out at the last moment. Though increasingly interested in going, after getting the new duds I was eagerly anticipating the evening’s event. My friends arrived right on time to pick me up and we arrived at the venue some fifteen minutes after the party had started. Again was I impressed by the appearance of everyday folk that were making their way towards the doors of the hall. Upon entry I realized that I had forgotten my ticket! Fortunately my friend knew the president of the association. Told of my misfortune, the woman looked at me and shook her head in a mock disgusted manner with a twinkle in her eye and a grin that said “I am so going to have to put you over my knee…”. She then graciously gave a nod to the gentleman at the admission table and I was allowed to proceed.

My mind was immediately blown as I entered the main eighty by forty-foot hall. There were padded benches, a ten by ten two-sided A-frame cargo net fixture, wooden racks, large X shaped St. Andrews crosses, and suspension frames with almost every one of the devices occupied by people truly enjoying the attentions of their doms. The subs were emitting sighs, groans, yelps, and giddy squeals of pleasure! Giggling and outright bubbly laughter were not at all uncommon. Well I’ll be damned. There was a genuine atmosphere of liberation and satisfaction suffusing the hall.

Spectating and observation were not only tolerated but were encouraged. One was able to watch the participants without embarrassment or shame and I didn’t once feel shock or revulsion at any time during the nearly five hours that I was there. A few displays of exchange were stunning but not at all intimidating.

Amongst some of the more notable displays observed was a woman trussed with soft rope and suspended from an overhead frame by six supporting ropes. The ropework and knots were done very artistically by what I could tell was a very experienced dom. The woman was clearly enjoying herself without humiliation or pain. It was obvious that she was comfortable in her bound and suspended state. I learned that if circulation was restricted and body parts were falling asleep then they were “doing it wrong”. She was allowed a surprising degree of freedom of movement as she hovered three or four feet above the floor. Her dom was by her side the entire time attending to her needs. Several times I heard yelps immediately followed by giggles. Though bound and confined, she was in exactly the place she wanted to be. I’ll never forget the broad smile and gleam in her eyes after being lowered and unbound. She radiated an enjoyment that was infectious.

Another act was of something I’d only seen in seedy videos on the internet. A man was tenderly inserting a gloved fist into a wonderfully relaxed woman’s vagina. Most of the fisting I’ve seen in videos has appeared as hostile and almost violent. It looks like a punching of the guts from the inside. This display was gentle and indeed loving. Surprisingly, it did not come across as sexual to me. I cannot fully explain this. The connection of the two was readily apparent and inspiring. It was a thing of beauty. Really. I’d never have guessed that my reaction would be thus but there it is.

One last act, of many that I observed and relate to you here, was of a very strong and handsome gentleman being flogged by an equally strong and beautiful woman. The flog was of leather with the tassels being about two feet long and 1/2 to 3/4 of an inch wide. They were made of a rather soft leather and no more that 1/16th of an inch in thickness. Quite contrary to my expectation, the sound of the impact was a dull thud instead of a sharp crack. The surface area of the tassels, numbering around fifty, spread the impact. While there was a slight amount of redness on his back, there were no red stripes and neither was there any blood. Though she was wielding the flog with two hands and had a windup that would make an MLB batter jealous, it was obvious that she was eminently capable and operated with great skill and finesse. I can honestly say that I would have no fear of being on the receiving end of her ministrations so well were they done.

The tenderness expressed by the dom to the sub after a scene was impressive and somewhat unexpected by me. Commonly it was shown by the cradling and caressing of the sub and accompanied by soft words whispered to him or her. occasionally the dom would gently wrap their sub with a blanket and with an arm on or under the shoulder accompany the person to a side room where they could relax and unwind with a glass of water and the company of others. Several times I saw a person who had just finished staggering in a blissful state of endorphin induced intoxication. The pleasure of this state was written on their face and very evident in their body language.

One more aspect of the community that I found heartening was the representation of all body types. People in various states of undress were comfortable enough and secure enough to be observed by not only their friends but by complete strangers such as myself. My admiration for them is great and it gives me a new perspective on my self consciousness. The willingness of participants to avail themselves of such freedom without shame is heartening and encouraging and serves to challenge my cynical notions of a society ruled by body conscious shame.

I say with no reservation that I was greatly impressed with what I saw. Though previously corrected of many erroneous assumptions by Sweetpea, I was educated by the displays of strength, endurance, tenderness, and love that I observed last night. From what I saw, I can honestly say that it was beautifully done and that it is likely that I could actually participate in such activities in the future, though to what extent I am not exactly sure of at this time. It was clearly demonstrated to me that the scene lacks the cruelty that one would understandably assume accompanies such activities. The fact that 200 plus people can gather together in a drug and alcohol free environment and share these experiences with each other is nothing short of incredible.

Thrift store threads