The Rise and fall of a BDSM social greeter...

in #bdsm7 years ago

(Hey everyone! So this will be my first post on steemit and I hope to share some of the experiences and thoughts in my life that may interest you or at least amuse you. You'll have to forgive me if I seem semi-incompetent but I'll press on!)

For anyone who knows anything about the social aspects of BDSM, they have undoubtedly come across fetlife, the monolithic giant of the BDSM scene. For about two years prior to this, I had only privately practiced BDSM, before stumbling my way onto the site, bland empty profile included!

i_love_fetlife.png

At the time, the scene in the nearest city to us was still coming into fruition, it had no clubs unless you skipped to the next town over and the social had only existed for about three to four months max. Before you understand the great shit storm that was to inevitably follow over time, you have to understand the atmosphere was one originally incredibly jovial. Any nervous thoughts were quickly removed, and while I was very socially shy I quickly became popular with some wit and charm.

In only about three months, I became a official greeter for the social. Perhaps that in itself should have been an early warning sign.

For clarity's sake, a greeters role typically involves keeping a keen eye on those who were new and attending and learning to read the body language and signs it was their first time, (they usually looked like deer in headlights so it wasn't hard to figure out), to possibly pick the choice of venue, set up the online event time for everyone to know, and to possibly bring some sort of signal that you were that group and not just a random group of people. In my circle at the time, it was always a balloon. We were also to be expected to be messaged from anyone wishing to attending wanting to inquire, and to just generally make sure everyone had a great time. (Standard stuff really).

The first year for the most part was a non-stop roller coaster of success. Me, alongside a few other greeters quickly adapted and were becoming more and more well known. We would host charity events where buckets would be passed around, we organised mini-pub crawls and get very very drunk. For a horny 18 year old guy, to be surrounded by practically Instagram models as perverted as I was, was a dream come true.

At our height, we had 70-100 people turning up for the social. Spread often by word of mouth and sheer popularity. We became so popular venues were excited to host us. Without going off onto some boner-fueled tangent about the many obvious sexual experiences, to the young 18 year old me who had spent his time as a good ol' boy from a Catholic school, it was like fucking Babylon. In one night I would have three girls sat on my lap in the middle of a bar to the envy of men around me and bewildered (possible disgust) of some of the women and couples. (My partner was obviously one of these women just to clarify, or at least she would come over and make it four women). There was hookups and threesomes and foursomes! and enough stories to probably fill another blog post.

When the main host became sick, I was entrusted alone to handle the events for a few months. I would like to think the popularity didn't get to my head but it probably did, it was intoxicating.

harem comic.jpg
(Above) Pretty much how it felt. (A. Jean - Harem Comic Art)

Then it ended abruptly.

One of the greeters was accused of sexual assault, and the obvious whirlwind of chaos quickly followed.
The greeter was forced to resign for obvious reasons, some demanded outright doxxing and spread the message across the other social clubs to blacklist his name. The evidence was always circumstantial, no one knew who to trust and who to believe. Everyone was exposed for some lie or exaggeration, and quickly camps were formed, and witch hunts.

Perhaps in other circles, the logical conclusion is to bring the police in at this point, but the police remain a practically non-existent entity, or at best, a boogeyman. The notion once I bought it up was outright rejected, as the police in the eyes of the vast majority of the BDSM community see it that the police simply won't understand and will persecute them for their life decisions.

And perhaps they have a point. It's simply a fact there are issues with the police, but nothing changes with inaction. Whether increased interest from the police becoming more involved or not I don't know, I imagine it would be a very rough transition regardless.

Instead, fetlife, and my experiences of the BDSM community was a kind of wild west wasteland. Where numerous complaints were piled onto us, demanding us to take action as if we actually held real authoritative power. Why? Because there was simply no one else to turn to. Demands that we block people from public venues, hand out personal information, things that were simply illegal for us to do.

In the social's obvious infancy and naivety, greeters were accepted haphazardly. We never did safety checks, as long as a person was charming, attractive or moderately reliable, you stood a pretty good shot at becoming a greeter.

I suggested a complete re-vamp of the rules, new safety measure. Explanations where we fit in as greeters and hosts and our roles. We released a trial run to see a public response and it was immediately criticized, challenged and needed to be re-drafted. It quickly became apparent that even with the rule changes for safety, including a probation period for potential candidates to become greeters, many despite my insistence were reluctant to enforce the rules properly, and by now other groups, perhaps sensing the social was not as strong as it had been, began to slowly emerge. They were for the most part incredibly envious, often claiming how we 'stole' everyone as though we lured them in like lambs to the slaughter, and now sensing weakness, they wanted to prey on the remains.

Furthermore, With the loss of greeters, or some that really struggled to attend on time. It tended to fall on me to attend and organize the early starts to every social. While flattering I had the responsibility, it became incredibly tiring and even tedious at times. Especially for a social that's heyday had seemed to pass, and a group that's size had shrunk to around 20-30 became a blatant reminder for me every time.

As the social grew, other problems quickly began to grow and eventually fester. Many who I had known had eventually for personal reasons left, and what remained was little clique groups. Groups self absorbed in their own drama, it hardly felt like a 'social' anymore, more an experiment in how long you could keep a group of people in an environment before little tribes would emerge. It seemed at some point we had lost the magic of what made it work. What remained I felt was becoming increasingly ugly.

Perhaps the death blow of the social (for me at least) would hit, was when the local club closed down. By that point, I had become sickened, filled with loathing and hatred. I hated how the social had turned to shit, I hated how other smaller groups were emerging, (increasingly jealous and blaming us for being small), and would do whatever tactic to lure people away. I hated that the vast majority of my friends had now left in the aftermath of the scandal with the greeter.

I had simply had enough.

arnold eyes.jpg

The author, (above) by the end of his experiences as a greeter.

I say it died abruptly, and the scandal was certainly the catalyst, but in the long run it died for me the death of a thousand cuts over a year.

I told them I would need some time off that increasingly became longer and longer. I eventually returned very briefly once I felt better, but it wasn't the same. My trust had become tainted, having taken so long a leave, and I quickly felt more and more like Robert De Nero's character in casino, nostalgically reminiscing what was lost.

This would be my final visit, before moving on towards different social circles. There are plenty of socials out there, and in no way at this point is the social I attended 'bad'. But it certainly lost the magic that made it so unique to begin with. Perhaps I myself am at fault, and I wonder if I could have done more and changed things, but that was the rise and fall of a BDSM social greeter.

I hope you've enjoyed this read! I'll try respond to any inquires if there are any! :P (Just to further clarify, my experience is not the set standard. The experiences of many VASTLY differ, I just wanted to share mine).
:)

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