Going to Cirque

I guess most of us are on our own at the start of our journey, knowing that we are somehow different and maybe burdened with feelings of shame about our feelings and fantasies.  Some never really get beyond that phase and kink for them will always mean, for example, sessioning  with a pro domme when time and money allow. After each session they will go back into vanilla life and bury their kink selves as deeply as they can, that is, until the urge again becomes irresistible and they pick up the phone.

If you had asked me a year ago I would have had no hesitation in saying that this was bad for them, that they needed to get out into the scene, go to a much, go to a play party or tow and see what is out there. I am now a little older and wiser, a lot more experienced in the ways of kink, and can see that for many people this is the only viable option. This is certainly true of some of the deeply submissive men who meet me for play. Deep down they are content with that. Having a rich kinky fantasy life, with occasional forays into the world of real life kink for the relief they crave, works for them. I will not judge them. And, let us be frank, the BDSM scene isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be. There are predatory and abusive individuals out there, unskilled would be doms whose play is downright dangerous, there is politics too , as everywhere else in human life. I have known deeply kinky people who have turned their backs on the scene, bitterly disillusioned.

But staying in the closet wouldn’t have worked for me. All the more so as, knowing I was really transgender as well as kinky, I was in two closets. And while there have been disappointments along the way, there have been many more positives than negatives. I have met some wonderful people and formed lasting friendships. Through interacting with others, playing in some cases, I have learned deep truths about myself. I know I am not the only one who feels this.

One moment will always remain with me. This was the first time I went to Cirque de Chaos. This, for those that don’t know, is a popular fetish event held in the West Midlands, one that involves live performances, play and plenty of socialising, a place where you dress to impress. People come from all over the country to attend.  As I walked in, nervously and looked around, took in the sheer numbers, the age range of  literally 18 to 80, the multiplicity of shapes and sizes, of sexualities, of genders,  I experiences a thrilling moment of empowerment and liberation.

“My God” I said to myself, “There are so many of us.”

I will be at Cirque again this Sunday, no longer a nervous newbie. There will be live performances, fabulous costumes, friends to catch up with and, not least, new people to get to know. I will be in a iliac skirt suit and brogues, looking a bit schoolmistressy with my cane. Do come and say hello if you see me. I won’t even require you to bend over for six of the best, not, that is, unless you have been very naughty.

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2 thoughts on “Going to Cirque

  1. And, by some magical force, shy though I normally am, I did approach you and say “hello” at that very Circe de Chaos that you were here anticipating going to. We’d metaphorically bumped into each other a number of times over the previous year or so – you even sat next to me at the demo in my first BBB, though we never or hardly spoke, then, or for several chance encounters later. But we must have finally clicked at the December Circe de Chaos, though we hardly spoke more than a couple of signifcant sentences, only bonding a few days later, by FetLife messages. Slow but sure grows the sturdiest oaks!

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