San Francisco, Oct. 11, 2008, Cactus Jack Kilo

     Mike West presented and starred in his latest erotic bondage cabaret/performance art show October 11, 2008. This was his highly anticipated Halloween Show. One of those underground, invitation only type of events, it played to a packed house and I’m glad I got there early for a good seat (more on seating later). The show was breathtaking. A speak-easy draped in black was the setting for this incredibly fast paced show—“10 lbs of bondage and sadism in a 5lb bag,” as one of his promotional emails put it. It did not disappoint. Of course, none of this would have been possible without the support of West’s co-stars, the lithe and girlish Kristine featured in the first set and the sexy and hot Khym in the second. Both actress/models are well known among the bondage scene cognoscenti having been featured in popular websites including chatasbitches.com, wiredpussey.com, backdoorbondage.com and devicebondage.com. The Intermission Act was a great show in itself featuring the beautiful Elizabeth tying up and punishing sexy Valentina. This set deserves its own review and I’m sure we’ll see more of them later.

     I had first seen Mike West demonstrate his awesome Japanese-style bondage in a class called “Japanese Bondage for Sadists.” A long-time bondage aficionado and enthusiast myself, I was humbled by his speed and skill. My ruffled pride was hardly smoothed by the fact that I stick with Western-style and have not learned Shibari, or perhaps, more correctly, Kinbaku-bi, Japanese for beautiful bondage. Mike West’s bondage is certainly beautiful as it is erotic and restrictive. I was struck by the technical artistry of the show: the music, pacing, lighting and even drama were pleasantly (and surprisingly for the genre) professional. Of course, sexual tension is what this performance art is all about and Mike West is able to deliver it by the bucket full. Contributing powerfully to the ethos of the show was the throbbing and highly creative music track performed/assembled by West’s co-producer Shatter (yes, Shatter, that’s his name, a very cool guy who I hope to interview at greater length in another article). It all came together (unlike the models who did so only when allowed by Mike West) in a series of audience pleasing crescendos.

     Aside from the staff and performers, I was one of the first to arrive (I know, it’s not fashionable to arrive early, but I have a nasty habit of punctuality and I also had to drive in from the East Bay and really didn’t want to be late). As a life-long actor-musician, I was not surprised at the close-to-chaos atmosphere that greeted me. I was a little reminded of my years of performing with the notorious Cockettes and the late 60’s early 70’s scene I was a part of. Half naked and all-the-way naked young hotties zipped around the bar and theater grabbing costume parts and props while being groped and whacked by friends and admirers (I don’t advise this practice for strangers). Sadly for me, the bar was unattended and I hung out parched for about half an hour. I wandered into the theater area to grab a seat but Mike West ran me out announcing that only staff and escorts were allowed in the room “right now.” Fortunately I always wear a hat and I was able to stake a claim by leaving my $1500.00 hat (I’m from Texas, but that’s really how much it cost) on a chair next to one of the two bar tables in the room (Yes, I was a little nervous leaving my hat unattended but I am a risk-taker) Back in the now filling bar I and the other theater goers waited impatiently for someone to man the bar. I watched balefully as Matt, Khym’s husband, poured himself a stiff one from his silver hip flask. Damn, I was a Boy Scout, why didn’t I think of that! A colorful (well, as colorful as people can be who must wear de rigueur all black to accommodate BDSM social convention, one I gladly cave to partly to, uh, show off my, uh, muscular body to its best) and exuberant crowd milled in the SRO bar area choking on cigarette smoke (this is a speak easy, after all), smacking cute girls on the ass while waiting for liquor and/or the show to start. A guy who had earlier showed up behind the bar and told everyone he didn’t work there, he was only there to pick up his stuff, showed up behind the bar and began very politely and professionally serving drinks (a little behind the scenes drama, eh?). I, for one, was certainly glad to see him pouring and bellied right up to the bar to properly prepare myself for the evening’s entertainment. Gin and tonic is my preferred drink and the bartender didn’t disappoint either. My drink wasn’t the only thing to be stiff that night.

     Another professional touch, the lights flashed about fifteen minutes after the show was scheduled to start (actually not bad by my vast theater going experience) and a naked girl announced to the boisterous crowd that it was time to be seated. Casting a nervous, gimlet eye at my fellow art connoisseurs I thought about missing or flattened expensive, custom made XXXXXXX beaver hats. Drink in hand I heaved a great sigh of relief and a small tear formed in my left eye when I spied my black fedora safely and serenely resting on the chair in the second row next to one-of-the-two-bar-tables where I had left it. Good hat! What a wonderful, trustworthy community of art lovers! I mentioned second row. Well, there was a reason for that. I noticed that on each chair of the first row was a small piece of printed paper. At first I thought the little signs were to reserve seats for VIP’s (like the ones allowed to stay in the room when I was kicked out earlier) but on closer inspection I and the fellow next to me read that folks in the front row should be prepared for splattering of miscellaneous bodily fluids(or words to that effect). Again, Mike West did not disappoint.

     The first act began with Mike West sitting impatiently in a chair on the small black stage (did I mention that everything was black?). Kristine entered from stage right fetchingly clad in a black string bikini bottom and fishnet stockings. She carried a very short length of rope and a tiny whip. She shyly presented them to Mike West who disdainfully threw them aside and with lightening speed tied Kristine up in a hanging tie. His confidence and mastery of the ropes was inspiring. Now helpless and completely vulnerable, Kristine endured a variety of creative and painful torments and alterations of her tight bondage including a whipping with, of all things, Twizzlers, those leathery red liquorish candy tubes. It was during one of West’s vicious Twizzler whippings that Kristine did her first squirt; the guy in front of me didn’t duck (actually, he didn’t even try and I think his mouth was open) and he got rained on. Those little red candies must have hurt like hell. By the end of Act I, poor Kristine was fairly covered with welts and bright red stripes from the various stringent whippings and caning. I was almost shocked to see that almost a full hour had passed. West’s sense of timing and drama are really impressive.

     The lights came up and naked and scantily clad cuties came out for drink orders. Their hotness made up for the fact that they seemingly could only take about three orders at a time from the thirsty crowd. I finally got my second gin and tonic and bravely sallied forth into introductions and interviews with my neighbors. I struck up a conversation with my table-mate, Winston, and I grilled him on one of my pet projects, “Where does your interest in BDSM come from?” I have found that in a crowd like this that can be a great ice-breaker, but I don’t recommend it for church socials. We all have a story to tell about how we got into this unusual corner of the universe. I worked my way through that second G&T pretty quick so I decided to go to the “bar” and get another one.

     By the time I got back to the theater area the Intermission Act was getting started and it was hot. Elizabeth, decked out like a secretary in a tight grey tube skirt, stockings, and black high heels was in the process of tying up Valentina wearing a sexy red nightgown set with ruffley panties. The dynamic between them was electric and very sexy. Valentina was less than cooperative, even kicking Elizabeth several times which made for some very exciting punishment. Following this act was the “sadistically hottt” Rain who came on stage and announced that it was somebody’s birthday. A handsome, young, very innocent looking fellow, Collin, got up from the VIP-squirt row and admitted that he had turned 20. This part was pretty much improv but it was a real crowd pleaser. After he dropped his black jeans (did I mention that people were mostly dressed in black?) it was revealed that he was wearing Monty Python Holy Grail boxers. After a few preliminary whacks Rain pulled them down around his ankles as well and started getting into it. The crowd, I think some of them may have been drinking alcohol as well, began enthusiastically chanting, “ONE, ONE, ONE, ONE…” By the end of it Collin’s ass was very bright red and he must have had 50 whacks. I was surprised he could even sit down.

KHYM in Grande Finale. (c) 2008 Patti Beadles 

    I was only about half-way through my third G&T and I realized that drinks were not being served during the main acts so I hustled off to the bar for back-up provisions for the night was still young. It is strangely exhausting watching someone else getting tied up incredibly tight and whipped and tortured like crazy. I got back to my table two drinks in hand and sat down for Act II. Wow! Was I and the crowd in for a treat—as in trick or treat for big kinky kids. Mike West came out and decorated the stage area appropriately with several large pumpkins and fall gourds.  Khym came out in a (you guessed it) black micro mini dress and tube top and West bound her in one of the hottest, sexiest ties I’ve ever seen live. He put her in a neck tie and ran it very tight through the ominous large stainless steel ring hanging over the stage from which the other girls had been attached, and down into a very tight crotch tie and around to tie her hands behind her back: it was the ultimate predicament bondage. She was up on her toes and I could see the crotch rope digging deeply into her pussy as she strained to reduce the tension on her neck which increased the tension on her pussy, and when she tried to reduce the pull on her pussy by pulling her wrists down in back it tensed the neck rope. Man, was I alert! This scene went on for an exciting while then West gagged her with a weird looking gag with wires coming out of it; I was thinking, “Mouth electric torture? Whoa!” It was scary looking. He blindfolded her and whipped out, was it a vibrator? No, a fucking electric carving knife. This is tense and I’m breaking out in a sweat. He proceeds to cut on one of the pumpkins with pretty good technique considering that he is a professional tier-up of women and not a pumpkin carver. But this was to be the piece de resistance. With great dash West finished carving the pumpkin but instead of cutting off the top he cut out the bottom. Lights began popping on in the heads of the audience. He dramatically raised the pumpkin and set it down over Khym’s gagged and blindfolded head; he grabs a black box and begins attaching the gag wires to it: the gag lights up and the pumpkin shines out into the darkness of the theater. What a finale, what a grand finale to one of the best pieces of performance art-theater I have ever seen. Unless this review gets me kicked off the invitation list, I’ll definitely be at the rest of his shows; this was sizzling, twizzling hot.

    According to his flyer there will be shows on December 13th, February 14th (for a really romantic date), April 11th, June 13th, and August 8th. Tickets are $45 for one $69 for couples, advance and $65 at the door. Ticket price includes one drink ticket. Mike West’s website is http://tiedoutwest.com/ and his email is mikewest72@yahoo.com.

    
     “Cactus Jack” Chris Kilo is the owner/writer for theboundandkinkyblog.com. A photographer/videographer and associate of the website bound2bkinky.com he was a member of the notorious theater group, the Cockettes with whom he performed for several years including their famous off-Broadway stint in New York City. He was in the Cockette cult-classic movie, Tricia’s Wedding. He went on to co-write, star in, and produce the musical comedy, Mama, I’m Coming Home in the early 70’s at the Lone Mountain Theater in San Francisco. He continues to write, perform music, teach college and do bondage photography.