Crazy kinksters that Chris and I are…we were in bed that first night by nine (separate beds, in our own rooms, solo). We woke early enough to get a good filling breakfast in the hospitality suite (again, the variety of hot food was astounding), then we buzzed around the room where we would be giving our first class, “Tit Torture 101.” I conceded to the master for this particular class, letting Chris run the show and demonstrations; I tend towards introducing us, picking-up on who is raising their hands during the hour and half talk, handing Chris what he might need, introducing people helping us out. For the classes before ours, we sauntered by various rooms and I learned that though the percentage of the people here this weekend had booked for the entire Friday/Saturday/Sunday stay, a good amount also purchased tickets for just this Saturday (a day pass) or even managed over-the-weekend tickets. Yes STL3 could boast a great turn-out; Chris and my class alone had sitting-room-on-the-floor-only.
We had a blast, didn’t lose a soul in the hour and a half, fielded good questions, heard lots of laughter and welcomed a wonderfully busty ‘demo’ lass who stood at the head of the room while Chris showed some firm but fun (and not so very intense) ways one might enjoy clothespins.
Among thank you’s and back slaps, we went to get some lunch after the class, and also made plans with our driver to get out a bit. Chris and I decided to have the guy simply run us to the metro train station a mere ten minutes away, instead of having him have to take us downtown, drop us off, come back for us, etc. (which seemed a needless abuse of the guy’s good nature and time) sometime after our second class, “Cupping.”
The thing you best learn when giving a class, especially to adults possibly as knowledgeable as you on a given subject, or having maybe tried what you are teaching, or those aching to learn about it, is to be humble enough to make your presentation less a lecture and more a conversation. This is how Chris and I conduct our classes; anybody at any time can raise their hand and ask a question, offer-up an idea, or give an example and if there are professionals in the crowd, we defer to them.
And we did in the cupping class.
Going around the room making introductions, asking who has tried what, when and how of the ancient art of cupping (heating the air in a small glass ‘cup’ then suctioning it on someone’s skin to pull out toxins) we found a man who was actually a professional massage therapist who used cupping in his everyday practice. Chris and I had the young guy and his lady sit to the side of us, at the head of the ballroom and we went to him for asides, questions and advice. You’re sure to miss a great deal if you simply stand-up in front of a group of people and pontificate for an hour and half and don’t think those people might have something worthwhile to say.
Chris managed three cupping demonstrations on the massage table provided (all on people’s backs, though we assured all, heated suction works wonders in kink play on various spots of the body) and left again feeling we had reached folks and they us.
In both our Saturday classes, the powers-that-be had attendants to set up chairs, help us, monitor and in fact for our first class, we asked for and received some supplies we had forgotten, even though we asked for them only an hour before the class began. Yes, these folks were efficient.
‘The Arch,’ was a mere four or five stops straight in by train, across the muddy Mississippi, this recognizable American marvel sitting at the edge of the water. We took a spin around, took some cell phone pics (but not selfies!) walked the streets, then got back on the train, called our good man to pick us up at the station minutes before we arrived, got in his car and back to the hotel in around an hour and a half trip.
Chris and I were bound and determined to make the midnight buffet this night and going off to bed for a quick nap, we set our alarms for 11:30. All attendees were pretty much in attendance for the pot stickers, egg rolls, fruit and cheese (our driver had assured us this was well attended), loading-up before they stepped into the dungeon for the night. After eating, Chris and I made our way to the hospitality suite again where we talked with some great great people/presenters, about what to see next time we were in town (this wacky wonderful place for sure) and generally sharing laughter and good stories until one in the morning.
We had a 10 am writing class to teach come Sunday, and though there were only two people in the seats when we got there, by about ten minutes in we had a nice tight class of a good grouping of folks. This is where Chris and I really shine, having a true passion for writing that feeds off one another. Again, we ran this class informally, led more by conversation than instruction (this wasn’t a class for professional writers per say, but people who wanted to unlock that specific creative gene by taking pen to paper/fingers to keyboard). The hour and a half flew by as we took questions, gave forth our own horror writing trials and learned what was on people’s minds that they were doing with their work.
Lunch (again), goodbye hugs, our driver taking us to the airport-the three of us laughing like high schoolers-Chris and I in the airport sipping coffees, revising our class listings, marveling over the great time we had, then hugging an hour later, he on a plan to SFO, me to Newark, I thought, with a head spinning realization looking out the plane window, did it all really happen?
Again below are the websites for STL3’s stuff and their new venue. I cannot express how wonderful it was to attend and teach at Beat Me In St. Louis 2016, how warm and fun the people there were and how great it was just spending time with my great buddy (I get to see him all to infrequently, really.)
Spanksgiving
STL3.com
The Gateway Alternative Lifestyle Center
We had a blast, didn’t lose a soul in the hour and a half, fielded good questions, heard lots of laughter and welcomed a wonderfully busty ‘demo’ lass who stood at the head of the room while Chris showed some firm but fun (and not so very intense) ways one might enjoy clothespins.
Among thank you’s and back slaps, we went to get some lunch after the class, and also made plans with our driver to get out a bit. Chris and I decided to have the guy simply run us to the metro train station a mere ten minutes away, instead of having him have to take us downtown, drop us off, come back for us, etc. (which seemed a needless abuse of the guy’s good nature and time) sometime after our second class, “Cupping.”
The thing you best learn when giving a class, especially to adults possibly as knowledgeable as you on a given subject, or having maybe tried what you are teaching, or those aching to learn about it, is to be humble enough to make your presentation less a lecture and more a conversation. This is how Chris and I conduct our classes; anybody at any time can raise their hand and ask a question, offer-up an idea, or give an example and if there are professionals in the crowd, we defer to them.
And we did in the cupping class.
Going around the room making introductions, asking who has tried what, when and how of the ancient art of cupping (heating the air in a small glass ‘cup’ then suctioning it on someone’s skin to pull out toxins) we found a man who was actually a professional massage therapist who used cupping in his everyday practice. Chris and I had the young guy and his lady sit to the side of us, at the head of the ballroom and we went to him for asides, questions and advice. You’re sure to miss a great deal if you simply stand-up in front of a group of people and pontificate for an hour and half and don’t think those people might have something worthwhile to say.
Chris managed three cupping demonstrations on the massage table provided (all on people’s backs, though we assured all, heated suction works wonders in kink play on various spots of the body) and left again feeling we had reached folks and they us.
In both our Saturday classes, the powers-that-be had attendants to set up chairs, help us, monitor and in fact for our first class, we asked for and received some supplies we had forgotten, even though we asked for them only an hour before the class began. Yes, these folks were efficient.
‘The Arch,’ was a mere four or five stops straight in by train, across the muddy Mississippi, this recognizable American marvel sitting at the edge of the water. We took a spin around, took some cell phone pics (but not selfies!) walked the streets, then got back on the train, called our good man to pick us up at the station minutes before we arrived, got in his car and back to the hotel in around an hour and a half trip.
Chris and I were bound and determined to make the midnight buffet this night and going off to bed for a quick nap, we set our alarms for 11:30. All attendees were pretty much in attendance for the pot stickers, egg rolls, fruit and cheese (our driver had assured us this was well attended), loading-up before they stepped into the dungeon for the night. After eating, Chris and I made our way to the hospitality suite again where we talked with some great great people/presenters, about what to see next time we were in town (this wacky wonderful place for sure) and generally sharing laughter and good stories until one in the morning.
We had a 10 am writing class to teach come Sunday, and though there were only two people in the seats when we got there, by about ten minutes in we had a nice tight class of a good grouping of folks. This is where Chris and I really shine, having a true passion for writing that feeds off one another. Again, we ran this class informally, led more by conversation than instruction (this wasn’t a class for professional writers per say, but people who wanted to unlock that specific creative gene by taking pen to paper/fingers to keyboard). The hour and a half flew by as we took questions, gave forth our own horror writing trials and learned what was on people’s minds that they were doing with their work.
Lunch (again), goodbye hugs, our driver taking us to the airport-the three of us laughing like high schoolers-Chris and I in the airport sipping coffees, revising our class listings, marveling over the great time we had, then hugging an hour later, he on a plan to SFO, me to Newark, I thought, with a head spinning realization looking out the plane window, did it all really happen?
Again below are the websites for STL3’s stuff and their new venue. I cannot express how wonderful it was to attend and teach at Beat Me In St. Louis 2016, how warm and fun the people there were and how great it was just spending time with my great buddy (I get to see him all to infrequently, really.)
Spanksgiving
STL3.com
The Gateway Alternative Lifestyle Center
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