Folsom Fringe

So as I mentioned in my last post, this weekend I tried something new. Actually, a few things new. I
1. Attending my first kinky conference
2. Gave my self-publishing class to a room full of people
2. Vended my books

Number one rule about trying something new: it's all about the experience. I went into the weekend with a clear head and a list of hopes, but zero expectations.
IT WAS AWESOME.
Seriously, if you can attend Folsom Fringe next year, DOOOO EEET. It is an easy way to meet kinky people, take a ton of classes, learn a whole lot about things you never even knew existed, and PLAY.
Oh my god, people, the PLAY.
I had friends there who basically only left their hotel rooms to eat and meet up with new potential play partners. Once negotiations (and meals) were done, they were back in their rooms, having more fun.

The saturday night party was a huge ballroom of ongoing D/s, S/m, and kink. I got spanked, caned, punched (a first for me), wrestled to the ground, hogtied, and pussy chained. I got to scream, cry, struggle, flail, bite, kick, and punch back.
And the whole time, all around me, there were other scenes going on, with people laughing, crying, and coming. Countless play stations, chairs set up all around for those who wanted to watch, cleaning supplies, safety supplies....
All the while, around the corner in the social area, people sat in their dressed-up best, eating delicacies and socializing in hushed tones at intimate cafe tables.
It was lovely. Hedonism at its best.

I signed a lot of books. Sold out, in fact. Of course, I had to do a lot of begging to sell those books. The other vendors found me quite entertaining. But then, begging comes natural to me, so what can I say?

I was told my class was good. If you want to see much of what I taught, you can take a look at the menu bar on the blog and click on "how to self publish."

Of course, one of the biggest draws of Folsom Fringe is the ride to and from Folsom Street Fair. But the  thing is, since you've been partying and playing the whole weekend already, Folsom Fair becomes one aspect of the weekend, not the whole thing. For many, it's not even the grand finale. I know for me, the saturday night party was the highlight of the conference, and the weekend.

I came home with bruises on my shoulders, back, and breasts, rug burn on my knees and ass, a hoarse throat, and a sense of incredible accomplishment.

That last one? That was the best souvenir of all.