By Emlet
It is 2 in the morning and I am sitting in my bedroom in front of my laptop, wearing makeup and a nice shirt, but only pajama pants. My webcam light is green, and on the screen, a boy I met two weeks ago online is kneeling, naked, on his own bedroom floor, and wearing a black dog collar. He pulls a handful of clothespins from off-screen and then looks up at me. He says, "May I please hurt myself for you?" It turns out that's one of my favorite phrases to hear.
I've known I was kinky since I was very young, I just didn't have the words for it yet. I have early memories of tying my dolls into their chairs with string and shoelaces, of pretending to punish them, or hurt them, or lock them away.
I remember, around when I was in middle school, that I imagined hurting people sometimes and I didn't know what was wrong with me. I was aware enough to know that this was weird, and that I couldn't tell anyone about it, but I had no way of knowing how significant it would be to my romantic and sexual development.
In my daily life I'm a friendly, caring, and intelligent student who often defaults to confidante with her friends. I'm an artist, an introvert (though a talkative one), and a bit of a geek. But I'm also a Domme (a dominant female) and a sadist, though my tastes are still evolving as I gain more experience and meet more people.
BDSM, which (like LGBTQAI and "queer") is better called "kink" for a more inclusive umbrella, isn't the same as a sexual orientation, but sometimes it feels similar. It affects who I'm attracted to, how I want to interact with them, and what kind of relationships I have. That, on top of the usual trouble of finding a compatible boy of similar age, made it really hard for me to meet anyone, either to date or for more casual play [play: sexual or nonsexual kinky interactions between consenting adults].
So it probably doesn't come as a surprise that my friends were all encouraging me to try online dating. Maybe it was the stigma still attached to it, or some other insecurities rising to the surface, but I was incredibly resistant to this at first. "It's not for me," I would say. "I just can't see myself forming a relationship that way!" Eventually I did break down and make an account, which for months yielded nothing more than one or two truly disastrous dates. Eventually I updated my profile to specifically mention Fetlife and what kinky orientation I was because what the hell, let's put it all out there! For a while all this did was increase the number of annoying, inappropriate, and just plain offensive messages.
At this point I should probably explain that, in the kink scene, I'm a sort of unicorn. Female Domme's are a little rare, especially young ones. The number of awkwardly-and-slightly-creepily-desperate messages I received from submissive men, ranging from their 20s all the way to that one time a 60 year old man inboxed me, was astonishing. And I didn't even have an active profile or any pictures up!
This all leads to the fact that my first ever play partner was someone I met over OKCupid. With a 99% match, and the fact that he was really cute, I (luckily) ignored the fact that he lived halfway across the country and responded to his message, and before long we had exchanged Fetlife handles (this is basically kinky Facebook). In the kink scene it's far more common for people to have at least casual relationships over long distance, probably because of how hard it is to find someone in your immediate location who is kink-compatible with you, available, and that you can out yourself to. But it wasn't something I had thought I'd be interested in, or even open to.
He made it clear within a day or two of talking that he wanted to play, but I wasn't sure. Actually, that's an understatement, I was terrified that I'd have no idea what to do, or be terrible at it, or embarrass myself.
But I was also excited by the idea. And eventually I said yes.
It is 2 in the morning and I am sitting in my bedroom in front of my laptop, wearing makeup and a nice shirt, but only pajama pants. My webcam light is green, and on the screen, a boy I met two weeks ago online is kneeling, naked, on his own bedroom floor, and wearing a black dog collar. He pulls a handful of clothespins from off-screen and then looks up at me. He says, "May I please hurt myself for you?" It turns out that's one of my favorite phrases to hear.
I've known I was kinky since I was very young, I just didn't have the words for it yet. I have early memories of tying my dolls into their chairs with string and shoelaces, of pretending to punish them, or hurt them, or lock them away.
I remember, around when I was in middle school, that I imagined hurting people sometimes and I didn't know what was wrong with me. I was aware enough to know that this was weird, and that I couldn't tell anyone about it, but I had no way of knowing how significant it would be to my romantic and sexual development.
In my daily life I'm a friendly, caring, and intelligent student who often defaults to confidante with her friends. I'm an artist, an introvert (though a talkative one), and a bit of a geek. But I'm also a Domme (a dominant female) and a sadist, though my tastes are still evolving as I gain more experience and meet more people.
BDSM, which (like LGBTQAI and "queer") is better called "kink" for a more inclusive umbrella, isn't the same as a sexual orientation, but sometimes it feels similar. It affects who I'm attracted to, how I want to interact with them, and what kind of relationships I have. That, on top of the usual trouble of finding a compatible boy of similar age, made it really hard for me to meet anyone, either to date or for more casual play [play: sexual or nonsexual kinky interactions between consenting adults].
So it probably doesn't come as a surprise that my friends were all encouraging me to try online dating. Maybe it was the stigma still attached to it, or some other insecurities rising to the surface, but I was incredibly resistant to this at first. "It's not for me," I would say. "I just can't see myself forming a relationship that way!" Eventually I did break down and make an account, which for months yielded nothing more than one or two truly disastrous dates. Eventually I updated my profile to specifically mention Fetlife and what kinky orientation I was because what the hell, let's put it all out there! For a while all this did was increase the number of annoying, inappropriate, and just plain offensive messages.
At this point I should probably explain that, in the kink scene, I'm a sort of unicorn. Female Domme's are a little rare, especially young ones. The number of awkwardly-and-slightly-creepily-desperate messages I received from submissive men, ranging from their 20s all the way to that one time a 60 year old man inboxed me, was astonishing. And I didn't even have an active profile or any pictures up!
This all leads to the fact that my first ever play partner was someone I met over OKCupid. With a 99% match, and the fact that he was really cute, I (luckily) ignored the fact that he lived halfway across the country and responded to his message, and before long we had exchanged Fetlife handles (this is basically kinky Facebook). In the kink scene it's far more common for people to have at least casual relationships over long distance, probably because of how hard it is to find someone in your immediate location who is kink-compatible with you, available, and that you can out yourself to. But it wasn't something I had thought I'd be interested in, or even open to.
He made it clear within a day or two of talking that he wanted to play, but I wasn't sure. Actually, that's an understatement, I was terrified that I'd have no idea what to do, or be terrible at it, or embarrass myself.
But I was also excited by the idea. And eventually I said yes.
The moment that was so important and so incredibly difficult to explain was when a boy I was attracted to, who I'd never met before, who lived across the country and I might never meet in person, took off his clothes in front of a camera, went down on his knees, and said "tell me what to do".
Holy crap.
I mean: holy crap.
This is the start of every fantasy I have, every porn video I watch, and it was happening!
And it's not because I think women are superior, or I'm angry at men, because I am a feminist. It's not because I dislike this particular person and want to hurt them...quite the opposite, in fact. It's because I do like this person, and I do respect this boy, and I am attracted to men.
Those early experiments were how I discovered I was much more of a sadist than I originally expected. It turns out there's nothing quite like having a boy I like physically writhing in pain at my request.
With his full consent, of course. Even better, with his active and enthusiastic participation.
Since then, I've been much more present in the Boston kink scene and have met a lot of interesting people. I am probably going to my first ever play party in October and I can't wait.
But my unusual approach to relationships can put me in a weird position and I'm not the only kinky person to have this problem.
I mean, how are you supposed to talk about it to your friends and family? "No, I don't have a boyfriend yet. Well, there is this boy who gets naked for me over the internet, but that doesn't count." Most kinky people stay in the closet, which makes sense if you think about it as something they do in the bedroom (you don't tell your parents what positions you like, do you?) but it's a much more complicated issue when you realize that often you can't talk about any of your romantic, sexual, or even friendly relationships because so many of them are in the context of the kink scene.
And for anyone reading this, there's a huge underground world of kink out there and so much to explore. There is room for women who want to hold a whip, or men who want to be handcuffed to the bed, or for anyone to be a switch and go different ways with different people. Don't let mainstream expressions of BDSM confuse you, because kink should not be gendered in any way. And if you think you might lean in a kinky direction, I strongly encourage you to do some research and attend some munches because, take it from me, being kinky is really, really fun, and I wouldn't want you to miss out on that!
Emlet is your typical Emerson student, but with less fashion sense. That isn't her real name, but it is her Fetlife handle. She writes about kink because not enough other people do.
Images by Corbis
Holy crap.
I mean: holy crap.
This is the start of every fantasy I have, every porn video I watch, and it was happening!
And it's not because I think women are superior, or I'm angry at men, because I am a feminist. It's not because I dislike this particular person and want to hurt them...quite the opposite, in fact. It's because I do like this person, and I do respect this boy, and I am attracted to men.
Those early experiments were how I discovered I was much more of a sadist than I originally expected. It turns out there's nothing quite like having a boy I like physically writhing in pain at my request.
With his full consent, of course. Even better, with his active and enthusiastic participation.
Since then, I've been much more present in the Boston kink scene and have met a lot of interesting people. I am probably going to my first ever play party in October and I can't wait.
But my unusual approach to relationships can put me in a weird position and I'm not the only kinky person to have this problem.
I mean, how are you supposed to talk about it to your friends and family? "No, I don't have a boyfriend yet. Well, there is this boy who gets naked for me over the internet, but that doesn't count." Most kinky people stay in the closet, which makes sense if you think about it as something they do in the bedroom (you don't tell your parents what positions you like, do you?) but it's a much more complicated issue when you realize that often you can't talk about any of your romantic, sexual, or even friendly relationships because so many of them are in the context of the kink scene.
And for anyone reading this, there's a huge underground world of kink out there and so much to explore. There is room for women who want to hold a whip, or men who want to be handcuffed to the bed, or for anyone to be a switch and go different ways with different people. Don't let mainstream expressions of BDSM confuse you, because kink should not be gendered in any way. And if you think you might lean in a kinky direction, I strongly encourage you to do some research and attend some munches because, take it from me, being kinky is really, really fun, and I wouldn't want you to miss out on that!
Emlet is your typical Emerson student, but with less fashion sense. That isn't her real name, but it is her Fetlife handle. She writes about kink because not enough other people do.
Images by Corbis