What It’s Like to Experience Edmonton’s Annual Erotic Nightclub, Smut Cabaret, For the First Time

My Saturday night took a turn to the bizarre as I entered Edmonton's annual Smut Cabaret.

Smut Cabaret is essentially a massive, yearly, one-night-only erotic nightclub during Nextfest (Edmonton's yearly multi-disciplinary arts festival that hosts about 800 artists).

At Smut Cabaret, anything goes. All night, I was surrounded by things ranging from homemade masturbation videos to theatre clowns, human animals, literal hi-def assholes, and fabricated body modifications.

I had no idea this artistic dark erotica party had even existed until that strange night. Some friends and I had just finished watching Jurassic World when we decided to venture to what we thought would be a classic Nextfest performance. Still basking in our childhood dinosaur nostalgia, we arrived outside the venue.

"Are you guys here for Smut Cabaret?" a strikingly beautiful woman in spider-webbed nylon tights asked.

"We're here for the Nextfest thing?" I said in an uncertain tone.

"Yeah, you guys are at the right place. Go upstairs and have fun," the woman said while smiling with a devious grin.

When we reached the top, I peered over the legions of heads to see what was in store for us.

I observed a man in a chair, dressed in what I assume was full leather gear and holding a leash that was attached to a black choker. Attached to the choker was a woman in a corset, on her knees licking her hands as a puppy would. There was also a clown moving his body in a seductive manner to an eerie circus tune.

One of my friends looked at me and my other friend in slight distress.

"There is no way we can do this sober," he said.

We all nodded in unison, bought our tickets, and speed-walked to the nearest liquor store. After crushing a tallboy of Steamwhistle each and washing it down with a mini bottle of Smirnoff in the alley behind the venue, we made our way back up the stairs to one of the most outlandish nights of our young lives.

Upon our re-entry, a young woman stepped on stage and announced that she was going to play an erotic question answer game with someone. The other participant turned out to be her mother. Both daughter Ainsley Hillyard and mother Fern Snart began asking each other prewritten questions about their sexual history. The catch was whoever did not answer had to take a shot of gin.

Snart was obviously the participant to take the most shots of gin. Especially when her daughter asked questions like, "Mom, when was the last time you masturbated?"

After the mother-daughter sexual questionnaire ended, it was time for poetry.

"I think she's talking about giving a blowjob or getting a facial or something," a random patron with blue pasties over his nipples said while pointing at the slam poet.

"Lips, tongue, breath, warm, up, up, up, all over my head, my shirt, your shirt, all from your strong throbbing member."

The pasties man was correct.

Suddenly, all the screens in the venue were switched on to homemade masturbation videos consisting of jump cuts, multi-coloured dildos, and deep moaning.

What I'd later learn from curator Beth Dart when I messaged her about craziness I'd witnessed was that: "Smut Cabaret is an experimental platform for artists to experiment with different audiences and experience the more sexual side of acting."

I noticed a room in the distance with a sign that read, "Heavy petting zoo," and overseeing the entrance was a tall dominatrix-looking woman known only as "the zookeeper."

As I entered the petting zoo, I was given tokens. The idea was to ask an animal if you could pet a part of his or her body. If they accepted your token, you were allowed. The main rules were no sex or "forced" petting.

I approached a female "animal" on the far side of the room and sat down on her blanket. She had jet-black hair and was clothed in lacy black lingerie and garters. After contemplating on whether or not I was going to go through with this, I decided to go for it.

"May I pet your leg?" I asked as instructed in the rules.

She nodded and I awkwardly handed her my token. My hand met with her lower thigh and I began grazing my hand up and down her leg.

"This is kind of a weird for me as it is for you," she snickered.

"Did you want to pet me somewhere else?"

"Why not?" I answered.

This time the pet turned into somewhat of a massage on her shoulders and neck.

"It's ok that you're uncomfortable. I'm cool with what's going on. That's the whole point of this. Consent."

After my time in the petting zoo, I was conflicted with what to do next. I found myself venturing into the notorious "butt room," I had been hearing so much about. Every person who stepped out of the butt room either came out with an expression of utter horror or embarrassment

The room was empty and had a solitary chair, a video camera, and a screen. The screen instructed me to drop trou and look at my own asshole with the video camera attached to the screen.

My immediate response was not one of shock, but reassurance. After all, I was indeed looking at my own asshole—only it was in high definition and covering a TV screen.

There could be nothing weirder than the butt room, I thought to myself. I was sadly mistaken.

Adjacent from the butt room was another room that consisted of a woman in goggles and a lab coat, and her assistant, who wore leather holsters around his chest.

It looked like a scene out of a Mad Max movie.

The "doctor" threw me in the chair and placed headphones over my ears that were playing industrial metal—possibly Ministry, and what sounded like hardcore sex.

The two miscreants began ripping apart a cardboard box and duct taped a cardboard shell to my back.

"Beautiful," the doctor cackled.

To top off the night, Smut Cabaret ended with and energetic, sweat-filled set by electronica band Physical Copies.

Later that night, as I lay in bed, my mind blown open by the weirdness I'd just endured, I kept cycling through night's events. Apparently, according to patrons of this year's Smut Cabaret, the party was quite "tame," due to the venue.

If that was tame, I can't imagine what next year will be like.