FIST FEST

I like to think that I’m confident but really, in real life, I’m riddled with social anxiety. Last year, after the pandemic and everything we went through, I decided that there wasn't any more time to lose. 

It was time to offer this pussy on a platter. 

I had always wanted to attend Fist Fest and for a while, I thought maybe I never would. Even if I was to buy a ticket to the event, would I actually go through with it?

This year I put all those fears aside and I decided to just do it. What’s the worst that could happen at Fist Fest? If I decided that I didn’t like the vibe, I could just go home. That’s what I kept telling myself. So I started my trek from Powell River, BC to Augusta, Georgia. Two ferries, a drive, 2 planes and a rental car later I showed up at my offsite hotel a day before the event. I decided to book a room off site because it seemed very competitive to obtain a room at the resort and also, I liked the safety of being able to get away from it all. I arrived late at night so I just crashed.

I woke up feeling very nervous but also I was absolutely committed to attending. I had come too far to back out. At first I thought that maybe I’d just do some mingling on the first day and meet new people and get the lay of the land. They have an orientation for newcomers so I wanted to be there for that. I had eaten very little in preparation for the weekend and what was about to happen but I needed some energy so I ordered a large smoothie. That smoothie was huge. Welcome to America! It was more than enough to give me the energy I needed for the day.

When I got back to my hotel, it was early afternoon. I decided that I’d arrive during the middle of registration so I still had a couple of hours. To hell with it I thought, this is the fisting event of all events. I decided to get in the shower and clean out. I’ll spare repeating my douching techniques, look for a previous post on this blog if you’d like more information on that. Success! I had done a good job; it was almost time to go.

I hopped in my rental car and arrived on the grounds. Immediately, as I fulfilled the formalities of resort fees, vaccination proof records and liability waivers I ran into familiar faces from Twitter. We hugged and immediately I felt like I knew people there. I wasn’t alone. 

Once the paperwork was handled I headed to the registration desk and received my goodie bag. Everyone got dog tags that you have to wear all weekend. Everyone was smiling and friendly. The sponsors had merch out for you to look at. That was great!

Someone gave a speech about how far back the event went. We were told that because we were there, right then, we were part of a family and that we would remain part of that family forever. That this was our space. We were challenged to always reach out to people if they are alone and to make sure to include them. We were told that Fist Fest is not a race, it’s a marathon, and we should pace ourselves.  It felt so good to hear this; like I had found my tribe. Following that there was the first timer’s orientation. You should really go if it’s your first time. It was such a relief to be with all the other new people at the event. We had an immediate bond. One of the newcomers had never fisted before. That fascinated me! Turns out they also volunteered. What a trooper. You get a tour of the resort as a group and go over some basic safety rules and etiquette. 

It only took a minute for someone to approach me and tell me that they would love to play. I said “let’s do it”. That was the first session of many I had that night. I thought I’d take it easy, but damn, there’s fisting happening everywhere and the vibe is so right. I took a double right away. I felt right at ease. I played with different people and swapped fists. 

It got cold outside so I decided to head for the maze. Not much was happening but I met two gents outside. They mentioned they were about to play in a room and I asked “can I join?”. They said yes. Another great session. I was on one side of a chariot race. Then I topped both. Real quality time with beautiful people with beautiful holes. Five sessions, a chariot race and two doubles later, I was eating carrots and hummus in bed and feeling pretty damn good about it all. 

My clean out the next day was rougher. I was also so hungry. I’m not normally the kind of guy that stops eating for fisting but I thought I’d make an exception for this grand event. Once I finished cleaning out I looked at the program for the day and it said HELL HOLE PARTY. “Okay,” I thought, “that seems intense.” So I headed over to the resort again and met up with friends I made the day before.

“Are you guys going to the HELL HOLE PARTY?” I asked

“No, I usually like to know the name of the person that is fisting me” they answered sarcastically.

“You know, you can ask for their name,” someone chimed in from another table.

Everyone agreed that I should go check it out and judge for myself. I grabbed my things and headed over. As soon as I entered, someone pointed to a mattress and asked if I wanted to get fisted. Yup, that’s what I wanted, let’s go! I got fisted 3 or 4 times by different people. I took a couple of doubles again. Not before long, my hole wanted a break so I went back to my friends at the pool and the first thing they asked was how many fists I had taken. “Three or four,” I answered to laughter.

The rest of the day was really relaxing. Lots of good chats and light beer drinking. It was nice to look around and see the smiles on everyone’s faces. We were all truly happy there. It was also beautiful to look at the fisting happening everywhere around the pool. The encouragement that was given all around and the overall camaraderie. It’s like everyone was old friends by then. I’m so lucky, I thought to myself. I met more people that either approached me to play, or vice versa, and a lot more fisting happened. My hole was tired by the end of the night and I was starving so I decided to turn in for the night. I couldn’t stay hungry anymore so I went to a restaurant and ordered everything I wanted. 

The big meal did make my last day clean out almost impossible, but I was determined to get it done anyway. I did my best and headed back for the final day. I was in the mindset now to just enjoy my time. By the third day, there was absolutely nothing stressing me out. The attendees were all so nice to me and everyone else. It felt like I was part of the best community ever. Just fisters lifting each other up. What a wonderful feeling to be part of something like that. 

I wanted to play more. A friend I made the day earlier came to me and told me they were not sure about their clean out. I said that I felt the same at that point. We agreed to “test each other out”. Turns out we were both good to go so we played some more. When the night fell I knew that it was all about to end. Someone asked if they could hold hands inside my hole with another person. That was the hottest question anyone had ever asked me. It was a wonderful way to end Fist Fest. (There’s a video of that on my Twitter, by the way.)

I would absolutely recommend Fist Fest to all fisters. You’ll get what you put into it. Say hello to strangers, smile at people and ask them to play and you’ll have the time of your life. It is such a fun and safe space for us to be in. 

Some tips or advice I’d like to give is to not make too many plans to play. Just go with the flow. Let the play happen organically. Also, you can absolutely do it all sober. In fact, I never encountered a moment when drugs were around or offered. I’m sure there were some, but the event itself is really at the core all about the pleasures of fisting. That’s it. I’ll be back in April and I hope to see familiar as well as new faces. I made friends that will last a lifetime. That’s priceless!

Thanks to everyone at the event and a special thank you to all the volunteers that run Fist Fest. I truly had the time of my life.

Marc (@FFriendlyGuy1 on Twitter)