Half the fun of writing is thinking up titles that are not only descriptive, but catchy. Sometimes, I think of a good one. Other times, not so much. But I think the title of this one really sums it up well.
What do you get when you mix together more fetishes than are conceivable to think of, hundreds of people and a location so laid back and relaxing that even the stingiest of souls just might be encouraged to loosen their ties as well?
My answer to that question would be: You get a kinky salad. So pass the croutons.
But perhaps a more explanatory way to answer would be: You get FetFest.
For the third year in a row, I drove 25 minutes south of home to a campground in Northern Maryland for a weekend of sights and sounds that put the other 50 weekends of the year to shame. I say the other 50 weekends, not the other 51 – because CAPCon is an amazing experience as well.
Each year so far, FetFest has changed while remaining the same – growing to include more while retiring certain things that have been grown beyond. But it still retained everything that opened my eyes wide and dropped my jaw since its inception in 2011. The St. Andrew’s crosses were in full-use. The drums of the Primal Arts Village by the lake kept the rhythm as the word “beat” showed more than one of its definitions. But whether your mission was to receive a few new marks or scream louder than you had ever screamed before or to find yourself by becoming lost in a hypnotist’s voice or to wrestle in slime in a kitty pool or to explore the thresholds of how far your joints could bend when bound or to consume 48 Guinnesses while knocking over coolers that mysteriously appeared behind you in the middle of the night or to test the elasticity of your skin or to just simply sit there and take in everything that was going on around you, FetFest was the experience you sought in a setting that made instant memories.
And the most amazing thing of all was how everything could be tossed together so seamlessly, some villages overlapping into each other at their edges. And for how out-of-place we sometimes feel in life with the less-than-vanilla fantasies we keep as our oft-hidden realities, no one nor any thought nor any action was out of place at FetFest. It was the kind of event where you could see a Dominatrix, a nudist, an age player, a needle enthusiast, a Shibari queen, a transgender lady and a burner sitting at a table next to the food vendor for lunch – all engaging in one big conversation.
But getting along well with each wasn’t the only thing that made FetFest a charm for its third offering. Instead, it was one of countless blessings that invite the masses, from The Next Generation to The Now Generation.
And we were all blessed to be our own specific ingredient in a kinky salad that excluded nothing.
I set up my tent under a line of trees in the middle of it all, knowing no one who set up their tents around me. But that soon changed and as we spent the hot afternoons under the shade of evergreens, a collection of perfect strangers became unstrange to each other. A threesome, two swingers, a bondage couple and me, with no off-the-beaten-path flavors of ice cream matching up, soon found more similarities than we knew were there. And we all had one united thought:
FetFest had an environment that made everyone comfortable – even those who braved their first outing in the hopes of find something they had always been seeking … themselves and a place where they knew they belonged.
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