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.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.
Tags: bdsm, real experience, chicago hellfire club, Inferno
Comments to skip (at) reddywhip.org
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