by Valerie Mann
A few nights ago, while at the Naughty Sleepover in San Antonio, the attendees were invited to visit a real BDSM dungeon. The Dom who owned the dungeon had given a BDSM-lite presentation in our hotel ballroom (because BDSM-lite etiquette demands that’s where they should be held) and said we could attend his dungeon later that evening.
I will admit, this Vanilla Author of Erotic Romance (VAER) did not attend the presentation. I took a nap, a much-needed nap, so there, but when my roommate came upstairs after the show, she told me what I’d missed. I was intrigued. I edit BDSM romance all the time, plus I have a few friends in the Lifestyle, so perhaps I needed to get a little more edumacation, right? Get a real feel for the whole dealio.
So, after dinner and a stripper show (which I also didn’t attend, I told you I’m a VAER), off we go to a seedier part of San Antonio…all forty of us. Yes, about forty, middle-aged women (for the most part middle-aged), all wide-eyed and pretending this was no big deal, when in fact, I’m guessing for 90% of us, it was a big, fat, hairy deal.
Master Mike, the dungeon owner, welcomed us and gave the grand tour of the house and backyard, then a nice tutorial by himself and other Doms he’d invited to acquaint us with the finer points of the Lifestyle and BDSM community. And then we were treated to some things I doubt this VAER will ever entirely bleach out of her brain. Fascinating—yes. Disturbing—some of it. Do I want to jump into the Lifestyle—negatory. What I came away with was a better understanding and respect for people who are in the Lifestyle. As one lesbian Domme said, “When you decide this is what you want to do, it’s like coming out of the closet. Or in my case, coming out for the second time.”
At about 3:00 am, we left and went outside to wait for our cabs. Remember when I said this was a seedier part of San Antonio? Yeah, it was right down the street from a very active nightclub, just closing for the night, er, morning. Freezing cold, about twenty of us were huddled at the foot of the drive, serenaded by drunken clubbers heading home.
And gunshots. Lots and lots of gunshots.
I’m sorry. I love action movies, I have guns in my home, I’ve taken firearm safety classes and shot weapons. But seeing them discharged FOR REALZ? Where bullets are hitting people? Ambulances show up, police show up, it’s like a scene from COPS.
And all of us middle-aged women huddled like penguins at the foot of the drive were like, “Huh. Looks like people might’ve gotten shot. Hey, has anyone found out what’s holding up our taxi?”
After all we’d seen and heard that day (a sex toy party, a stripper show, then some dungeon time), the gunshots were simply pesky, noisy little disruptions in an otherwise highly unusual evening. But thankfully, three hours later, full of a Denny’s Grand Slam skillet breakfast, this VAER was snuggled in her bed in the haunted Menger Hotel. And that’s a blog for another day.