I’m finding someone quite fascinating. Thinking about interactions with them, both real and fancifully imagined, makes my gut clench and my heart flutter.
I am almost one of those tweens in movies that gush over some hot guy and try to act all cool in his presence… Except I’m not. I’m gushing, internally, and definitely externally if my panties are proof of anything, and the guy is decent but not hot. Well, that’s not true – he is incredibly hot to me. I find his mind and his feelings utterly enthralling, and his body is subsequently incredibly attractive to me.
Of course, the entire thing is moot because there isn’t anything I can do about my needs for now. Jesus, it’s been nearly 18 months since I last had sex. Maybe that’s tripping with my brain, and heart, now.
A while back, I shared a masturbation fantasy that I have used over many, many years of frustratedly working at getting myself off. I hope that someday, the fantasy becomes reality, but for the moment I am as far away from that happening as I could be. I am unhappily married and my husband has little to no interest in getting me off.
Obviously since I am doing my best to not cheat, I sought out some technological assistance to improve my efforts at self-love. I purchased a bullet vibrator and later a water bunny, and now enjoy using both to tease myself. I think I have had a few orgasms by now. I say think because I have unfortunately never experienced an earth-shattering orgasm, and no amount of internet/book reading or video watching will be able to teach me what an ‘ordinary’ orgasm will feel like for me. For the longest time, I thought there was something wrong with me, and I routinely faked orgasm in bed. In the spirit of turning over a new leaf, I’ve stopped doing that and being more honest about my levels of satisfaction. (Maybe that strategy has slightly backfired on me since I haven’t had any sex in months, after being honest about not enjoying myself the last time around. Causality?)
So. I have a fertile imagination and I have been using it during my exploration sessions to cover a wide variety of reasonably vanilla sexual situations and turn-ons. Here’s a sample.
Using my fingers on my clit and pussy to pleasure myself as a nondescript man in a suit watches me with crossed legs and occasionally tells me what to do.
Unable to use my hands as my lover hand-fucks me but withholds orgasm till I can’t handle it any more.
Seeing a woman hover over me as she methodically draws her middle finger over my G-spot and then slowly fucks me with a dildo.
Being blindfolded and tied to the bed as a person slowly titillates me and goes down on me.
Sucking a man’s cock; owner of said cock occasionally releasing a ragged moan and telling me how good it feels.
If the self-pleasure session lasts longer than an hour, my mind slowly turns to mild kink and comes up with these.
On my knees facing the headboard of the bed; my wrists are tied to it and I am blindfolded. An unknown lover is teasing my arse cheeks with a flogger and occasionally landing blows that I count off.
Bent over doggy style, bound and gagged but not blindfolded, a man eating out my pussy very thoroughly and landing blows on it every now and then.
Arms and legs tied to four posts of a bed; splayed out for everyone to see and oh, everyone is seeing.
Arms bound above me, but not being suspended from them; a gentleman in his shirtsleeves laving my nipples with his tongue and mouth as he teasingly runs his palms over my flanks. I can smell his hair.
Honestly, I don’t think I am into ‘proper’ kink, but I feel a sense of contentment when sexually submissive that I struggle to feel anywhere else. Perhaps with the right trainer someday, my sensibilities could be moulded.
Over the years, I have realised that this is the fundamental need that drives me. I want to belong. I want to be approved of. I want to be wanted.
I have spent a large part of my life trying to please the people around me (with occasional insights into the fact that I was nothing like them and shouldn’t bother). I craved their approval and basked in the light of their smiles at me, feeling a little flutter of joy every time I was included in an in-joke. I fell all over myself trying to find other people interesting, trying to seem like their interests were mine, trying to do things they appreciated to the detriment of mine. The same in my marriage, to the extent that I have now lost my individual identity outside of “Mr. X’s Wife”.
My interest in BDSM had previously been limited to Story Of O and a vague fantasy of tying someone up and having my way with them. Some time back, I had the opportunity to read a BDSM themed story. It was quite well written and had an involved discussion of the submissive’s thought processes and evolution, from discovering her nature to ultimately settling with her Master. This was what spurred my creating this blog, because I hoped through introspection to figure out my crazy mess of a head. But it also made me look at myself slightly differently. What if this subservient need of mine to please others was just my latent submissiveness desperately seeking some outlet?
I immediately quashed the idea because I can be a pretty assertive person in real life. When not under the influence of my depression, I have real opinions like normal people. I don’t get walked over by people (other than my husband, but that is a complicated dynamic) and I have never been afraid of going against my family’s wishes on something. I think I stand up for myself reasonably well, therefore I figured I just couldn’t be submissive.
Obviously all of you reading this are knowingly nodding and smiling, saying, “Silly girl, you’ve got it completely backwards.” I realise that now that I’ve done a lot more reading on the subject – I can be anything in my regular life, even a leader, and still need to be submissive. I can be a feminist, an assertive person, exceptionally talented, yet still feel a need to submit myself to someone I can fully trust.
Exceptional unfortunately means you are excepted from confidences – this was the story of my school and collegiate life, and a very similar tale proceeded at my two jobs. I guess that’s why I clung onto my boyfriend and made him my husband – he was a domineering, intelligent man that I felt matched me yet could guide me, but unknowingly I forced my submission onto someone who just wanted an equal partner at everything, and who also was quite possibly a closet bottom in the bedroom. I attempted to mould him to feed my need to belong, and realised just a bit too late.
When I enacted my ‘tying someone up’ fantasy with an old lover and looked back on it, I realised what was turning me crazily on was not towering over him dominating and having my way with him, but paying attention to his needs and serving every single one of them. It wasn’t me getting off on the power at all. Even though he was the one tied up, all I wanted was to pleasure him, to enact his fantasy, to drive him mad with lust and then perfectly satisfy it. I made it entirely about giving rather than taking. I know this is also considered an aspect of Domination but I realised I was still being submissive from the top.
The truth I have discovered now is this, that I want to belong to someone. I need to belong to someone. I want that someone to be confident in their knowledge of me, and I want to be fully trusting in sharing every aspect of myself with them. I want a target for my affections, for my attentions. I need someone to take care of, to satisfy the needs of. I need that person to be completely trustworthy, to know how damaged I am and still value my complete and utter love for them as their most prized possession. I need for them to see that the only thing I want from them is their protection of me, my mind, my feelings; that I can trust I will always be safe with them. I would give them everything, anything in exchange for that.
I think until I find someone who perfectly fills this role to the last crossed ‘t’ and dotted ‘i’, I should stay unattached. I made a mistake by marrying the completely wrong person for me. I don’t know if he can ever forgive me, but at least I have now forgiven my younger self because she didn’t know. She had no one to guide her, no real parental figure to respect and love, and she was rather naively clueless. I know better now, and I need to quickly clean up her mistakes and move on with life as the new and improved, real me.
Are you a fresh faced virgin curious about what real sex entails? Are you a horny teenager who’s seen one too many pornos and can’t figure out why real sex doesn’t feel the same? Whether you’re a young, sexy thang getting into an active sex life or an adult entering their prime and finding themselves in a relationship that lasts longer than, “Woah, what happened last night? Where am I? kthxbai”, having regular sex enlightens you to certain realities of two (or more) very human people bumping uglies. And uglies it will be as in most cases you will not be boinking a porn star.
Yes, that is the answer to most questions about the realities of sex. Porn is not necessarily an idealised version of it, but it somehow is dirtier and cleaner than the average bout of sex the average person will experience in the average lifetime. She’s not going to have a freshly waxed coochie all the time, and he’s not going to be hairless and smelling like expensive cologne all the time. Morning breath, smelly fart et al are the realities of our hook ups, like it or lump it. Mind you, sex in any form is pretty awesome. The accompanying orgasms are almost always worth putting up with almost anything. Here’s my list of things you should mentally steel yourself for encountering in real life once you peel yourself away from the computer screen.
1. Vagina farts
You are in the thick of the action. Tab B is pounding away at Slot A. Jackhammering comes to mind. The man pulls out to flip the woman over. In true Oatmeal spirit, “Thrrrppt” goes the vagina.
Awkward silence as both parties are bewildered, mortified and disgusted all at the same time.
This is just air expulsion from the vagina. Just as you burp if you’ve gulped a lot of water down or eaten too fast and ingested a bunch of air bubbles, all that pistoning into the vagina pumps air in that doesn’t belong there. The woman moving her body forces the air around and out and, since she is wet from said activities, the effect produced is similar to a fart in the shower. It’s rather sexy if you think about it. So silently acknowledge that it happened, and move on.
2. Needing to actually pee/fart
You are contorting yourself into positions your inner organs don’t normally occupy. Perhaps someone is lying on top of you. A cock/finger is very dedicatedly pounding away at you. Maybe there’s a finger/tongue delicately exploring your ass. Things are in orifices. It’s perfectly normal to suddenly feel the urge to pee when your bladder is being pressed on (or your g-spot is being fingered, but you can ignore this one), and it’s perfectly normal to want to let one rip because your belly has been squished sideways.
It might be in your best interests to plead a pee visit to the loo in both cases if you think they can’t be held in. In the case of the former, it might get messy in the middle of interesting things (yes, it can happen, and it’s not very likely your partner is into watersports); in the latter case, you risk a smelly SBD or, worse, an unexpectedly loud one owing to all the sweat. Hold it in or run to the loo. If you are in a comfortable enough relationship with your partner where you openly announce bodily functions, by all means do so and bask in the glow of your sickeningly healthy relationship.
The fart is also a good possibility if one has been hammering at the anal area (this would be in lieu of the vagina fart, see 1). This particular activity could result in something far, far worse. Yes. Poop residue. Unless there’s been an enema recently, the poop chute is highly in danger of resultant byproducts. So use a condom and steel yourself.
3. Sweating and the attendant aspects of same
Sex is active stuff. Even if you’re not physically fit and using the missionary, you’re going to be sweating, and so is your partner. Let me burst your bubble now – private parts do not smell and taste like fan fiction, erotica and porn make them out to. They are usually musky, a bit salty, hopefully not gag worthy. Sweat intensifies this to a whole new level, bestows an olfactory promotion if you will. So don’t stick your head down there and take an almighty whiff in ignorance. Small breaths through your mouth and eventually through your nose (because what are you doing down there if not using your tongue?) will ease you into the flow of things.
Watch out for sweat-related injuries especially in hot weather. Men like to stick their penises into a cleavage vagina. It is super sexy to smush your breasts together and offer them to a man, but friction does hurt. Same with the thighs.
3a. Ass sweat
It does follow, if not already obvious, that you will sweat down your back. There will be droplets sneaking through your ass crack into your hole. Movies make sweat droplets seem sexy. They are not. Beware that a fart at this point will probably be wet and noisy.
4. Body ache
Unless you are still a randy teenager wanting to hump everything in sight with the body to follow through, your back is eventually going to get sore from pumping or being bent over. The muscles connecting your torso to your thighs will burn like fuck if you’ve splayed your legs apart for too long. God forbid your neck suddenly cricks or your foot suddenly spasms from whatever position you’re attempting from that book you snuck a peek into when your parents weren’t looking. All this happens and will continue to happen (increasingly as you age) during sex. Accept it gracefully, and maybe try and improve your fitness and flexibility a tad.
5. Cramped wrists aka The Claw
This deserves a section of its own, because it is a phenomenon distinct from generic aches and pains.
A man desperately twiddling a g-spot or prostate. A woman or man giving the nightmare handjob where the recipient doesn’t seem likely to cum soon. You don’t see this in porn; people are supposed to orgasm when you ask them to, aren’t they?
Enter The Claw. When the muscles in your wrist give up and say, “Let’s punish this motherfucker by going on strike,” and your hand freezes. A sharp jolt of pain followed by icy numbness, or a sensation of little ants biting you to buggering hell. Or, worst of all, the spasm made of nightmares as those muscles contort your hand into all sorts of new positions you couldn’t make it hold earlier.
6. Thigh hair
This one is especially for the men, the ones with thigh/leg/arm hair longer than half an inch. That shit is going to snag or get pulled or dragged or accidentally plucked during sexy times. Someone will be sliding over to assume a new position and your hair will painfully get in the way. She will be trying to sexily run her foot over yours but it will be pulling successive rows of hairs. Trim or attempt a non-shrieky grunt.
7. Stubble burn
We can’t all be perfectly hairless in all the required places all the time. Hair stubbornly always grows back and is not always long enough for the appropriate removal methods. Whether a man’s cheek or a man or woman’s groin, there be stubble to watch out for, y’all. Remember the friction I mentioned earlier? That and tiny, freshly growing hairs make a great team to rip skin in sensitive places. Or at least irritate it severely. Giving head and porking can both be hazardous activities to both giver and receiver. Only the professionals can afford to be cleanly shaven/waxed all of the time, honestly.
8. Rolls of fat
Even the best of bodies can look unflattering when folded into exotic positions. The sexiest people can look fugly as they reach desperately for that elusive pleasure peak by twisting their bodies. You’re going down on a lovely woman and you look up from your godly work to see the horrid one-eyed monster aka a folded belly button on a layer of muffin top. This should not put you off because she is likely horrified by the hairy and pimply nature of your skinny arse, yet is still proceeding with the mutually agreed fornication. The thing with fucking an actual person, you see, is that it really is a human being there, with all the flaws and weakness all humans come with. Sex honestly is a beautiful thing that we are lucky to be able to share for more than just procreation, and the small, petty things shouldn’t cheapen the attempt.
All this and more can and will happen over the timeline of your sexcapades. If you are lucky, you will have an understanding partner who will laugh it off with you and prove themselves worthy of your affection. If not, they are doomed to a lifetime of unsatisfactory sex while you just narrowly escaped attaching yourself to a shallow man/woman. Sex is simply too cool an experience to let that shit bring you down. Do let me know if you can think of other things that might belong on this list. Someone might find it useful someday.
This post is probably going to draw your hate, but it needs to be written.
Is cheating ever okay?
I have thought about this on and off for the past 6 years. When are you cheating and when, if ever, is it all right? Is it ever something less than unforgivable? How do I approach this without seeming like I’m justifying it to myself?
I’ve touched upon this previously but let’s go over it again because confession is good for the soul or something: I have cheated on my husband a few times, some one night stands and some standing relationships, when we did long distance before we got married. For the time we have been married, this last month is the first I have seriously considered the prospect of finding a willing cock elsewhere. Prior to marriage, I have had 2 one night stands and 2 ‘relationships’ that lasted 6 months and 11 months.
I know what you’re thinking. What an awful person I must be. How horrible that my boyfriend was in a different country being all faithful to me (knowing the kind of person he is, he definitely didn’t stray) while I was handing it out around town. How do I have the gall to face him everyday knowing another man has fucked me in more ways than he has?
Guess what – I completely agree with you. I am a terrible person for doing this to him. I am constantly fearful that he will find out someday before I am prepared to own it up to him. But also guess what? I know myself well enough now to understand that I never did these things with a malicious intent, nor do I conceal them with a malicious intent. For all purposes, he is happy that I am his wife and is not affected by my previous infidelity in any manner. If, in an alternate universe, I had never cheated on him, our relationship would be exactly as it is now; as unhappy as it is now because our personalities have grown up to be so different, but not in any way affected by my promiscuity.
So, what exactly is cheating? Being unfaithful can mean very different things to different people. For some, it is about making out / sleeping with another person whether one-off or ongoing. For others, it’s even when they fantasise about another person. For still others, just harmless flirting can be as bad. It’s important that you understand these boundaries in the relationship, not so you can test the limits but so you know where the line is. If you genuinely want to be with your partner, you need to know how not to hurt them, don’t you? It might also be that both of you want to explore these things and therefore settle on a non-monogamous relationship of some sort. Good for you.
Let’s look at a situation where your lover might not like it if you playfully flirt with another person physically or over text/email. I might look at that and think that it is harmless and you totally can be doing it. You might even think that. But clearly your partner doesn’t, so make sure you discuss these things and negotiate a compromise or give over to one of the points of view (theirs is rather unrealistic, if you ask me). If you do end up marrying this person and staying with them, that amounts to 50 years or more of colouring within the lines. So you better be okay with them. On the other hand, if sex with someone on an ongoing basis is the actual limit, it doesn’t mean you’ve got the green light to go do it, but you should most probably be honest if you ended up sleeping with someone once because the honesty is better for your psyche and not too harmful to the relationship.
Note that I didn’t proselytise about “honesty is the best policy” etc. That’s because it isn’t. While theoretically speaking a couple should be entirely open with each other because they are two infatuated unicorns frolicking in a field of dragons, practically speaking no couple is entirely honest with each other. That’s because we are human beings here and we have crazy shit going on in our heads that are not always meant for public airing, or even private sharing. People judge you whether or not they say they are, and this colours their view of you whether or not they admit it, albeit to differing degrees. Things like a fantasy about being raped by a multi-tentacled creature in all your holes (honest, it’s not mine, I made it up) is probably meant for just your therapist, or preferably no one at all. And certainly not the partner that you see everyday and you make decisions with.
Back to the cheating, then – should you be honest about it? Obviously it is up to you to gauge the tone of your relationship. In the vast majority of cases, I believe it would be a bad idea simply because it more than likely will not happen again. For the few that get a rush on getting away with it, they eventually get caught / told on (and they deserve it for being dishonest) or they come clean because they understand the unhappiness driving them to cheat and want things to end as fairly as possible. I don’t know if I’m being too generous here but those are the outcomes I see.
In my case, I know that I will never be forgiven if I am caught or admit to cheating, so strangely enough I am saving it as a trump card for divorce in case my husband doesn’t want to separate from me. The real point is – I have not been unfaithful since we got married, and I have not sought another lover to make up for my dissatisfaction with the uneventful marital bed. We haven’t had sex in 4 months (though I have sucked him off a few times with no reciprocation) and I don’t see it happening any time soon. Despite that, I pleasure him when he wants me to but don’t seek it out anywhere other than in myself. I acknowledge that I was an awful person for having married him without telling him (and also doing it in the first place), but I am an imperfect human being. I have weaknesses, and back then it was my rock-bottom self esteem. I have however thought about this thoroughly and agonise over what I have done, but also feel the slightest bit vindicated that I am not doing it now, when I technically need it the most. It’s like I’m punishing myself by withholding it when I know that others in my situation could justify it.
It also helps if you think about what your reaction would be if you caught your partner at it. In my case, I know that if I had stayed in love with my husband, I would have forgiven him and tried some couples therapy to work out what went wrong. However, as I am not, I would just feel really amused and use it as the easy way out of the relationship (being entirely honest about it, of course, and not manipulating his guilt). It’s kind of sad that he will not be considering my revelations as rationally because he would just hate me, but that’s the person he is; that’s the person I married. I believe he is giving me his fidelity so I suppose it’s not entirely unreasonable.
Other than the ‘adulteress’ judgement you are passing on me, do you have any thoughts on this issue? Are there any circumstances in which you could bring yourself to think, “I guess it’s not so bad because…”? Will cheating ever be okay?
Since we don’t live long enough to make all the mistakes and learn from them, we need to really pick up on lessons from those made by other people. I’ll share one of mine here so you hopefully don’t end up doing something similar. I married my husband when I was almost 23 years old, and I had been dating him since I was 18. I won’t go into the details of how I met him because it is a reasonably unique story and anyone familiar with it IRL could read this and identify me. Suffice to say, I met him over a few weekends and we immediately became a couple. With all the commitment connoted by that word. Talking about love and marriage and family.
Yeah. He was a couple of years older than me so he finished college first and moved away for his graduate study, and then moved out of the country for his job. So we did the long distance thing for about 3 years. By this time both of us were working, though in different countries and time zones, and we kept arguing on the phone and emailing and all that. We were both sick of it, and he was getting lonely in London, so we got married. His credentials were impeccable so it was no big deal convincing my family to let me marry him, and his family pretty much agreed to whatever he insisted on. Flash forward 4 years and I’ve moved to London, studied and looked for work and failed to find it, and am now a housewife in an unhappy marriage. I might have to have children in another couple of years, and I really don’t want to. How did the once successful career woman turn into this? Well…
I married young. Neither of us had had a real romantic relationship before this one, and we stuck with it for almost 5 years and married the same person without living with them.
I was inexperienced. Both of us were virgins when we met, and we fumbled around and figured a bit of stuff out and then… stopped learning. We also committed too early thinking that’s what people did; then inertia just kept it going.
I had no real role models to guide me. My parents are in a strange marriage – my dad is a pushover bossed by his mother in law and my mother is a mentally undeveloped epileptic. So no healthy strong woman persona to guide me regarding my self worth and relationship conduct. What’s okay to let go and what is important to be fought over? No clue. What constitutes a healthy and productive argument, and what is toxic and destructive? No clue.
I established the wrong precedents. I always got emotional when we argued because it always seemed like he was right and I was wrong, and I could never convince him otherwise. Only recently have I been able to detach myself from my feelings enough to rationally talk it out, but he expects outbursts from me and unfortunately does not expect me to sound rational at all. I also was always the one adjusting, changing her mind to get along, etc., so now that is what is expected else there is another argument.
I ignored the signs from my subconscious. After the initial dating bit, we were forced to carry on over long distance. So our conversations were basically relaying details of our day, and were usually quite brief because of the odd time zones. We rarely spoke about substantial things, yet we somehow assumed we would end up with the other person so never questioned the necessity of the relationship. I don’t know about him, but I was a naive girl who was thrust into a workplace with adult men that treat women the way adult men do, and I mistook it for genuine desire. Out of some misguided intent to please them and satisfy my needs too, I slept with a few. I was in some real ‘relationships’ for 6 months and 11 months. I was sleeping with these men and at the same time conducting my long distance relationship over the phone. I was lying to cover silly things even after I married him and moved in with him. Super healthy, right?
Well, I think you get the idea. The point is, if you don’t know yourself as an adult, if you don’t know enough about yourself and the world to know what you like and what is good for you, you shouldn’t be committing to anything at all. Love yourself before you love someone else, and then try it before you buy it. I’m all for fully protected premarital sex and co-habitation. Live with them, fight with them, love with them, and if you see that you are handling it like adults and you are happy to be doing it for the foreseeable future, only then consider marriage. Never give up your individuality to make allowances for the other person unless for your own betterment. This may sound selfish, but it’s a piece of advice that works. Take it from someone who is helplessly stuck in an unhappy marriage because she doesn’t have a job and doesn’t have the voice to stand up for herself. If you think you love someone at 18 and you want to live with them forever, great, move in with them. Don’t get married, please. Time changes people, and sometimes you two end up being completely different people at 25 that just don’t get along. If you’re afraid to be alone, it’s okay. Make girlfriends and fill your time. Have casual sex, or flings, or find a fuck buddy or a set of toys that work for you. Just don’t settle for the easiest thing to hand just to make yourself feel better, please. Think of silly me and how much I whine and rant and realise this is not who you want to become.
Hey, hey, lookie here – a post on the day the trailer to 50 Shades Of Grey was released that’s actually not about the movie or book. Go me.
I spent a lot of today reading very educational posts about sex and BDSM and all that, and ended up masturbating because I couldn’t handle the horny. Guess what? I came 7 (possibly 8) times with my little bullet vibrator. This might not seem like an achievement to other people but it is to me because I have never had a proper orgasm, ever.
What’s a proper orgasm? It doesn’t have to be the total body, earth-moving, mind-shattering experience you read about in erotica. It just has to be distinct enough for you to recognise that you have had an orgasm. This is something I have never told anyone – I’ve never orgasmed, and I have consistently faked it with every partner I’ve had. I have a strong pelvic floor and do Kegels when I’m bored so I can clamp and twitch with my walls enough to convinced someone that has their dick inside me. The rest is c/o Meg Ryan.
Back to my orgasms (because, hey, ground-breaking moment here). They didn’t make me go dark around the edges or anything, but I did leak quite a bit of juice. I left a huge stain on the bed that has hopefully dried before my husband gets back. These were pleasurable clitoral orgasms with a little bit of g-spot stimulation, and one of them sort of led into another which is why the doubt regarding the occurrence of 7 or 8. I think I’m slightly dehydrated now from all the leaking!
I think my groin/inner thigh muscles are going to be aching tomorrow from the prolonged leg spreading, but it’s all going to be worth it. It’s like a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders; like I’ve conquered a massive obstacle. I have been battling my issues and my hormones for years now, and I’m finally seeing some progress. Even though this happened many hours ago, I’m still in a post-orgasmic blissful cloud.
I’ve not achieved much else today, but I’m not feeling too bad about that. I can see things slowly falling into place, ever so slowly but surely, and that’s good enough for me.
I have been reading a lot of BDSM literature recently, and watching educational videos (no, not a porn euphemism), and have learnt a lot about how wonderful it all is and how special D/s relationships are. I have also had a lot of preconceptions dashed, thankfully. I now consider myself n00b 2.0 as opposed to the completely clueless n00b 1.0. For the n00b 1.0s of the world: if you ever find my little corner of the internet, here are some handy things for you to know.
The first thing to internalise: forget everything you know about E.L. James and 50 Shades Of Grey, etc. Forget all the slang and protocol you sometimes see portrayed in mass media. Forget the angry feminists and their disavowal of a woman denigrating herself for a man. Leave your preconceived notions behind and be open to educating yourself from scratch.
Yes, the pain and discipline and orgasm denial and toys are all cool and just risqué / forbidden enough for you to be excited about jumping into them, but you’ve got to take it slow. Know the basics about the lifestyle and what you want before you go to a munch and/or hook up with a Dominant for some playtime. Dominants: learn about different techniques for different forms of play and educate yourself on what is safe and what is dangerous before you even think about trying it out on another person. Google is your friend.
Limits: everybody has them. There is no such thing as a no-limit slave. If you think you want to try everything, great, but pace yourself. Don’t let the first thing you try be breath- or blood-play. You’re too green to sense a bad Dominant, and your mind and body need to be broken in slowly and lovingly. Spend some time visualising different things being done to you and note your visceral reaction to learn your fetishes, soft limits and hard limits.
If you are new, you probably are eager to please as many people as you meet IRL or online. Please don’t go for the first person that shows interest. Just like vanilla dating, try out a few casual conversations and get a feel for how experienced and confident the person is. Because you are new, it is almost always best to have your first times be guided by an older, more experienced Dominant. You’ll enjoy it more, swears.
If at all possible, try to find a mentor that likes the things you like, or does the things you do. Talk things out with them, learn from their experience. You’ll be surprised how much of this lifestyle is about thinking about what you do and what you feel. It’s not all leather collars and butt plugs, it’s got a lot of paperwork, journalling, introspection and talking.
If you do find yourself with an opportunity to play, don’t jump head first. Have the talk about boundaries, conditions, limits and safe words. Get and/or give informed consent; don’t fall for bullshit about spoiling the fun by knowing what’s going to happen. If they think about it hard enough, they can definitely come up with vague enough descriptors that you can gauge. For eg., Bondage as opposed to silk scarf or fur handcuffs. Flogging as opposed to a 4-oz leather flogger or hairbrush spanking.
If you are uncomfortable, scared, in serious pain without any pleasure or hurt / freaking out in any way, use your safe word and call a stop to play. There is no shame in this. Think about your long-term choices here – do you want something bad to happen that scars you or turns you off something you thought could be fun, or do you want to stop the horrible thing and try with a more rational mind later?
Don’t forget to keep playing with yourself to find out more about what pleases you and what you might like to try. If you explore and learn enough, you might even find a fulfilling, lasting relationship that gives you everything you need, whatever your tastes are. The world has seven billion people in it, surely a few of them are bound to be into what you are.
There is so much more to it but, like I said, this is the important basic stuff I’ve gleaned so far. If there’s something you want to add, feel free to comment. I’m new to this whole world too. There’s a wealth of information out there put out by amazing people that have shared their experiences and knowledge, and it is up to you to use it to keep yourself safe and satisfied. Enjoy.