Tuesday, August 14, 2018

Skip's First Inferno, the closing


Copyright © 2018 by John "Reddywhp" Reddy. Permission granted to archive if and only if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is charged to read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can't use this without the express permission of the author. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.

Tags: bdsm, real experience, chicago hellfire club, Inferno

Comments to skip (at) reddywhip.org
Towards the end of my first Inferno, the afternoon of Tuesday, September 12, 2000, I was 25 and having a blast.  I was only supposed to be there for Session A, but in a Sunday morning moment of clarity, I got my work vacation extended and Inferno Registration found space for me to stay for Session B.

That Tuesday afternoon, I was watching Jon beating on my friend Ryan.  Jon had been introduced to me by Mike B as "one of my favorite monsters at Inferno", he was this enigma to me - so intense.  He was punching Ryan's pecs with precision and focused attention; Ryan was taking it and smiling.

When Jon decided to give Ryan a break, he saw me watching nearby and motioned as if preparing to punch me.  I puffed my chest out in response, and he gave me a quick jab - which of course momentarily winded me because I'd never really taken a punch before - play or otherwise.


It didn't take but a moment of shock before I reset my stance to one that could take the punch, tightened up my pecs, smiled, and nodded for him to continue.

Jon focused on one muscle group at a time.  He pounded on my right chest until I dropped to my knee in response.  The pounding was draining.  I was holding my breath far too much.  And it did hurt, so it was me pulling away and showing submission.

I don't remember us talking all that much.  Maybe a few quips and snarky comments in both directions during the jabs.

After a moment to catch my breath, I stood up again and re-set my stance, leading him to pound on my left pec instead.  The scene repeated itself...  eventually, I dropped to one knee again to catch my breath.

Ryan helped me stand back up, and I re-set my stance again: right leg slightly forward, left leg slightly back for bracing, so I could lean in.  I thought Jon was going to beat my chest again.  Nope.

Jon threw a knuckle punch at my right thigh, just slightly outside.  It did not take many hits like that before my leg gave out completely.  This time I *dropped* to the ground at the top of dish hill.

I was grinning stupidly as I tried - and failed to stand up - so Ryan and David T helped me stand again... and then continued to hold me up as Jon proceeded to turn my left leg just as useless as my right one.

I grunted in pain - that thuddy wonderful pain of fist hitting muscle and flesh.

- - -

When a couple of minutes later, I was able to stand on my own, Jon looked me over - checking my eyes, trying to calm me down from the intensity we had just shared.  My muscles were tightened up like a drum, and he started hitting pressure points - first in places that caused muscles to relax, then places that I later learned were to cause pain (but that don't work on me).

Then he found a pressure point on me that *does* work, and it was the first time we heard what Matt D liked to refer to as "Skippy noises" (a cross between Woody Woodpecker and Roscoe P. Coltrane trying to speak Latin with a Klingon accent).

People thought this was me being ticklish, so Jon, Dave, and Ryan took me over to the bondage tent and strapped me down to one of the leather-padded articulating metal tables.  They thought it was laughter...  but the pressure points had triggered sensory overload.

So I'm strapped down to this table, and they try tickling me - and nothing.  I'm just laying there waiting for them to do something.  Then, the breakthrough.  Someone dug their thumb into the right spot and I howled.  When he tried again as I was trying to say something, I broke, and started speaking gibberish.

The howling and sputtering that came out of my mouth was what some might call epic...  I just call it Inferno.

- - -

The next morning before I left, and as I was feeling worn down and emotionally wrecked.  Jon found me and talked to me about after-effects.  We talked about bruising patterns that I might see.  We talked about the emotional turmoil from endorphin crash I was experiencing - my first real endorphin high from BD/SM play.  He helped me put things into context and understand what I was feeling. 

That was the closing of my first Inferno, and I was hooked.

No comments:

Post a Comment