The San Francisco Fetish Ball is one of the year's highlighted events and probably the most anticipated after Folsom. This past week it was the talk of the scene, of the town and of everyone I even had a slight discussion with - it was all about the Third Annual San Francisco Fetish Ball held this past weekend. Of course, everyone who was anyone or who aspired to be an anyone was there, decked out in some of the best latex haute couture, retro outfits, Revolutionary War garb, the Courts of King Louis in France's courtier wear and so much more.
While we were in Madame-S trying to find the perfect outfit for me, Tchukon, the son of the originator of Mr. S Leather, was on hand to take a look at things and help prepare the space for Thursday's photo gallery opening by Paige White. Tchukon helped me convince my lover that, yes, even he could wear something fetishy and attend the festivities - no mean feat, I assure you. But Tchukon's eternal smile and engaging personality made it easy to agree to whatever he said. The man is warm and generous, and could sell a Frigidaire to Eskimos on ice-floes.
After picking out something which made me feel fabulous and that went well with the shoes (c'mon, you know it had to), I felt ready to meet the best and brightest of the renown fetish scene. San Francisco is famous for this event, with people traveling the world over to attend, and I wanted to feel as though I could hold my head up and be proud. The able assistants at Madame-S were supportive and ready to help me do just that. A special nod of thanks to Andre, the manager at Madame-S, who was of exceptional help and reassurance, and who is the drop-dead gorgeous African American man on the main page of the www.SFFetishball.com webpage.
Thursday Night the festivities began at Madame-S, which had transformed into a gallery to display the ravishing works of Paige White. Paige, a former fetish model, has now turned fetish photographer. Three years ago, she made the transition - it seems with relative ease - from being in front of the lens to shaping images from behind it. Surprisingly diminutive, she looked almost dainty in her full length skirt and lovely black corset. Tchukon (who let it slip that evening that Paige was his girlfriend) was positively radiant about the rave reviews Page's work was receiving and the sales she was already making.
In attendance at the gallery were Masuimi Max and husband Allen Falkner, who gave away no hints when it came to their planned performance on Saturday. More on that later. Also in attendance were the exquisite Sasha Monet - whom I must admit is as lovely in person as she is covered in bondage gear, latex, or in a cage. There were a bevy of others, but I don't want to name drop.
I did not make it to Club Enslaved, but I hear it was a rip-roaring rollicking party. Hosted by the indomitable Midori, and billed as "the event for players by players," attendees were advised to be sure to bring their favorite gear, for they were not only welcome to watch but to join in the fun. Oooh, play with the famous folks!
From what has been reported to me, Fetish Diva Midori transported everyone throughout the evening into a fantasy realm, where she had three beautifully bound and suspended women for viewing pleasure. It sounds like a long way to spend an evening, but Midori is known to excel at what she does, so I am sure the show was impressive.
Masuimi Max was also slated for a short performance called "Small Dose of Trouble", and the official SFFB website warned that if we missed out, we missed out. I'd love to hear what she did, so anyone who was able to see her performance, please drop me a letter at . And Ms. White of the previous evening's gallery fame was to finish off the evening with an exciting inspiring performance complete with victim. Hmm...Tchukon?
At The Fetish Ball
Three years ago, Tchukon was advised that San Francisco was due for a world-class event among the ranks of those held in LA, London, and the like. That summer the planning was in full motion and 10 months later the first SF Fetish Ball was born. It came out kicking and ready for battle with showcases like Torture Garden from London, a fashion show by Madame-S and a strip tease from yesteryear with Dita Von Teese and Catherine D'lish. Midori was the MC and Uncle Paul did his magic while Jewels not only swallowed a sword, but also escaped from a straightjacket suspended from the ceiling while the rope burned. It was a night San Francisco would never forget, and soon was begging for more.
And they got what they wanted. Each year has been more of an extravaganza than the last. The event itself was held at the San Francisco Gift Center, which truly seemed the only place able to house all those in attendance and all the added little touches for the evening's entertainments. There were some special considerations made - like the Men Only Floor. As you know, Mr. S Leather is a proud sponsor of the San Francisco Fetish Ball. Their sales are primarily to the leather, bondage, gay community, and they considerately arranged to have a men's only floor and play space.
One of the evening's highlights for me was the innovative modeling show by Torture Garden. After a few moments of heightened anticipation, the lights came up to reveal a tableau of human statuettes concealed in black shrouds, covering them from head to toe.
A lovely woman, playing a reverse Pygmalion role and dressed in austere clothing, walked around pulling the drapes from the models one by one, revealing them and their outfits. The crowd went wild as various famous fetish models made their appearances, such as Masuimi Max, Kumi, Sasha Monet and more. The human mannequins held their poses immobile with Ms. Higgins' caressing and fondling as she pulled their covers from them. At that point, they seemed to come alive and became moveable, beautiful creatures.
Once they found their awakened motor skills, they walked three at a time to the front of the stage where everyone could get a good long stare at the fantabulous new Torture Garden fashions. This was truly an underscore to the evening for me.
Also on the agenda was a performance by the Serpentine Dance Troupe. There were three men, all excellently made up with physiques to die for, carrying exotic snakes around their shoulders. The leader of the troupe, Jim Berenholtz, considers himself a ceremonial performance artist specializing in an ancient yogic dance form using live snakes. My lover is not one who can deal with snakes well (hey, I let him kill the spiders, I can deal with the snakes), but even he was impressed by this remarkable performance.
One of the more intense events of the evening was when Masuimi Max and Allen Falkner of TSD put on a show-stopping performance. For those not in the know, Allen (Masuimi's husband) is a performer in his own right. He's one of those fellows who inserts hooks into his body and performs suspensions that astound, amaze and cause wonder in the rest of us. A make-shift stage was constructed in the middle of the dance-floor. Allen was connected to his various pulleys and hooks in his back, and when the time came, he lifted his thumbs up in an "okay, go for it" signal.
He was raised above the floor, and seemed to cover his face and wash energy through his body by a series of movements that gave the appearance of a profound experience.
Touched by VAST
...i'll never find someone quite like you again
i'll never find someone quite like you again
i looked into your eyes and saw
a world that does not exist
i looked into your eyes and saw
a world i wish i was in
i'll never find someone quite as touched as you
i'll never love someone quite the way that i loved you
|
Even more amazing, Masuimi lay on the floor beneath him on her stomach, with her hands and feet bound. Her hands were then looped through the hooks at his knees and her feet through the hooks on his back. He raised himself even higher, suspending not only his own considerable weight on those hooks in his skin, but the weight of his lovely woman as well. It seemed a huge testament of faith and trust between the two, and the crowd howled in admiration as the DJs played what I thought was the most appropriate music for the whole spectacle - Touched, by VAST.
Once Masuimi was lowered back down to the stage and released from her fetters, she jumped up and held on to her still-suspended husband in a full-on body embrace, and he, feeling the power and excitement of the experience they had just shared, had them both raised again with her simply holding on to him in a loving embrace as the music built to this amazing crescendo. Then, slowly, they were both lowered, and he released the cords from his back. The crowd once again cheered their appreciation for the sheer beauty, power and balls of the performance.
Dancing, of course, was obligatory throughout the whole evening, and the floor was quite crowded. The beat was kept moving by a selection of DJs who knew what they were doing and how to keep the energy of the room at the highest level possible. It's difficult to dance in fetish shoes, but I saw some incredible performances by those who were not professionals, just event-goers, determined to have the best time possible, dancing with grace and elegance on 7-inch heels.
There were also two go-go stages, and one female dancer had me absolutely captivated from the moment she started moving. Through the entire song, she performed with a leather cap on and a horse-bit in her mouth. When the song ended, she whipped her hat off, released the bit, and began to dance again in a symphony of movement which inspired the crowd to get their own groove-thangs out there. This woman's grace and dance expertise were exciting and palpable. What else gets you in such a mood that you want to get out there yourself? It inspired more than just me to move to the beats excellently kept going by the likes of Los Angeles' Lord Spanky, Torture Garden's Allan TG and Mitch of San Francisco. These gentlemen knew how to keep that divine dance-pressure on.
As the night and the crowd heated up, it was time for the annual lube wrestling match. A big plastic kiddy-pool was placed on the stage and filled with the slippery stuff. Can you imagine the sheer amounts of lube it took to fill this thing? I did read on one website that it wasn't body glide or latex glide, but in fact that it was 10 gallons of lube used for birthing calves. Ew. But sexy in an odd way.
Last year's reigning champ Masuimi Max came out ready to defend her title as winner of the Greek style wrestling (a/k/a naked or nearly so), egging the crowd on and daring them to "love her." Sasha Money, her first competitor, came out in a corset and bare top showing off her perfect breasts (I fell a little in love with her at that point). Both women entered the lube and wrestled around for supremacy. Really - who the hell cared who won? It was just great fun to see such fantastic women get lubed and dirty and playful.
There was another contender who came out afterwards, but I missed who it was, as there was a man getting a severe whipping by his mistress just a few feet away from me, and I was rather transfixed. I may not be a masochist myself, but I do enjoy watching the faces of pain and the way it can transform and transcend people who are truly into it. As the evening progressed, more and more folks felt comfortable to indulge themselves in public play. For me, the environment began to take on a comfortable feel, as though we were all friends who understood the underlying passions beneath our surfaces.
I could go on for hours about the fashions I saw at the ball, but it would take seventeen pages. I'll mention the six-foot-six woman (who had to be wearing fetish shoes) in a stunning black and white skin-tight backless dress who towered over everyone she met; the fantastic transvestite who had enough eye-makeup on to handle a South American country but made it look incredible; and a host of hundreds more. Except the Klingons. But hey - if that's your fetish, this was the place to indulge it. Then there was the guy dressed as a leather pig-kind-of-creature who confused me and howled at me several times.
Remember the 1980s cartoons "The Thundercats" where all the sexy alien League of Nations rip-offs worked to better their own alien world? Okay, there was the fellow who looked like a blue overgrown Thundercat. I had the cruel dream of going up to him with a stick-pin to see if he would deflate. This fantasy went on all night.
And me, of course: my new Century Cap, named after the makers of the caps, which Mr.-S actually touts as a biker-cap with a silver beak brim. This for me was the type of hat I had been desperately searching for years upon years, and Mr.-S was the only place I found it. The silver beak on the brim complimented the small, simple collar I wore as well, along with strict silver hoop earrings. I was happy as my slightly, mysterious smiling face could be. You can't simply grin while wearing this type of severe hat and six-inch shoes and a latex waist cincher. You have to offer something sinister, some secret knowledge, something that draws folks to you.
If you ever get a chance to go, please take that chance. And I'd like to take this moment to thank Tchukon for putting so much effort into this event - the care and love he placed into making the San Francisco Fetish Ball a success truly shone through, and he should be applauded, lauded, and congratulated at each and every step he takes.
|
Click the images to enlarge.
Madame-S:
CLUB ENSLAVED:
FETISH BALL:
|
fiction
