Let me begin by saying, I’m sorry.
I am not crazy about the word kinky and to imply that you are or aren’t buzzing on this word is like putting all of your skills, talents, and sexual magic into a wooden crate, nailing it shut, and expecting you live out the remainder of your days in shadowy splinters. There’s no room for growth in there, let alone a bathroom.
Right now, for lack of a better term, “kink” is the umbrella the 50 Shades, romance novels, Magic Mike poster children and grannies can accept without being terrified of more traditional BDSM, or sadomasochistic verbiage.
In session I don’t say, “What’s your kink?”
I say, “Please, if you’re willing to share, I would love to know the details of your ideal session.”
This separates the image from the person. They are free to speak in fantasy terms. Their fantasy does x, y, and z. I also ask for phrases, costumes, and how the scenario makes them feel. The fantasy “them” is also a separation and represents all the things they know they aren’t going to find under any tree or familial offering.
It’s the feel we’re going for and the word kink brings different feelings for different people in different scenarios.
Moving forward.
So you’re a kinky girl. I’m a kinky girl. 2015 is long gone and maybe you’ve thought long and hard about what promises you kept and what you totally ditched. 2016 is here and it’s a clean slate. Maybe you have a partner in your life that rocks at gift giving, took you to your favorite city, and got a room with a hot tub on the roof. Maybe you don’t and took it upon yourself to dish out those special stocking stuffers. New makeup, a purse, maybe several pair of shoes or a facial, all in Santa’s good graces. Maybe you don’t go in for the mass hypnotism of pagan-Christian heritage and celebrate different days in different ways. Worst-case scenario, you got socks and a waffle maker.
Maybe and I’m hoping this is true, you went to the sexy toy store and picked out a vibrator that jitters your fillings, a lubricant that feels like wet pussy, or a horsehair butt plug because THIS year, you are tired of your fantasies taking up too much rental space in your head. You want to play like the Fundamental pragmatists are setting up a picket line on Main Street. You’re bound and determine to ride a Love Swing even if that special someone in your life does not share your sense of adventure.
Still, stuff is stuff. Now the hassle is over, the credit cards are in the toilet, and we’re feeling a little empty, a little numb, and A LOT exhausted with how to get back on the horse. We have new toys but we’re still unsatisfied. We’re still asking, “Is this it? I spent the last year working and waiting for…this?”
As useful as a freshly minted penny, that Resolution List is staring you in the face. Let’s say one of those resolutions is to experience a better sex life by knowing what you want in bed and how to ask for it.
You have good intentions. We all do. We also need things to look forward to. As good (or bad) as last year was, we want more. We want the idea that if we work hard enough for a big enough WHY we will be met with a resounding satisfaction that endures past a daily motivational calendar.
While I’d like to see this year unfold in an effortless exhalation of rock-solid abs, men who don’t ask for more than I want to give, and wheelbarrows of cash, the core desire for material manifestations is one and the same.
I want to be happy.
Here’s what I know from personal experience.
If change is going to incur, it’s because I’m making it happen. Sitting around with my thumb up my ass is a recipe for disappointment and a stiff trapezius. That white knight? He ain’t showing up and if he did, he’s probably fucking his relatives. My happiness is my business. When I leave it up to others, that’s assuming that I a) can’t figure it out because of laziness ie. fear, b) cling to the comical notion another person will have more insight into my psyche than I do, and c) regard happiness as something, an entity of sorts, that lives outside of me. These are all d) a waste of my precious time on this planet.
It’s easier to know what I want because I’ve had plenty of what I don’t want. Those embarrassing and sometimes painful social or session blunders, including the gorilla I assaulted at a Halloween Fun House? They were the pavement I needed to crawl over to reach the grassy hillside of insight. I’ve had plenty of time to process what went right, what went sideways, and why. Now I can use those instances to clarify, refine, and boil down the essence of what I want. I can also listen more closely to my instinct. Ahhh, the instinct, that much underappreciated, hard to nail down concept that deep down, I know exactly what is good for me and asking anyone else’s opinion is basically another excuse to fail.
I am aware of my triggers and patterns and choose not to take them personally. The more time I spend detaching myself from drama, the less I react like I’m in the front row of a rollercoaster and the slightest dip is going to cause me to spill my latte over the rest of the passengers who happen to be my current and future friends.
The hardest part about attaining happiness is NOT asking for it. It’s believing I deserve it. That is a lifelong practice and cannot be contained within one clean slate. More like 365 slates a year until I reside in a pot on someone’s mantel. This is a fake-it-till-you-make-it rainbow. Look at the bare bones. Ask yourself, “Am I a good person?” (At least 50% of this will be yes. That’s enough. No one is asking you to be Gandhi.) As a good person, do I deserve to have my needs met? Once again, no one is going to hand me shit. After I’ve done the work and my needs are handed to me on a silver platter, how do I see myself accepting this immeasurable gift?
Once received, what the heck will I do with it? Do I have a program in place that will fit? This isn’t the end game, by the way. There is no end game. If I always got what I wanted when I wanted it, I would either be a mystic savant or a miserable decrepit that has abandoned humility, gratitude, and magic. What I want is not always what I need. Understanding the distinction is the cause of much of my confusion and misery.
This is a solid foundation to get started. The best of the successful role models of today and days past, those that get paid well for their time, look good, feel good, and continue to kickass taking names, will make a big deal out of goal setting. They would know. It’s tough to decipher a road map if we don’t know where we are and where we’re going.
STEP ONE. “What do I want?
Well, happiness, right? Errr, kind of. That’s as vague and frustrating as a two-headed squirrel. Ladle on a spoonful of dominance, submission, attraction, setting, phrases, and the motherboard is sure to short-circuit.
The majority of women that I talk to say, “I don’t know what I want.” I’ve mentioned this is previous articles. I contest that you DO know what you want but the language skilled aren’t there yet.
I’m here to tell you, there is a dump truck full of resources available for every learning disposition, including a few suggestions of mine that consistently work. This includes:
Write it down. Those spicy fantasies in your head? Start journaling. The subconscious really likes the connection between heart to head to hand. Stuff will come up that you didn’t expect. Borrow from your favorite scenes or books. It’s no accident they got you off and it probably has to do with the power exchange going on between the characters. No surprise, that mirroring affect will be present in your fantasies. Do it early, like right when you get up, before the “responsible” you has time to butt in.
This does not need to be a bodice ripper. If you long for a mystery date, The Nameless, Faceless Hunk as I like to call him, to stroke your palm with a fingertip, sit in a quiet place, close your eyes and imagine what that feels like. Now describe it. Or draw a picture.
Hit the books. When I am stumped about to how tell my partner what I’d like to experience, I head for the home library. These titles aren’t found in the public kid-friendly catalogs. Luckily, the eBook era is upon us. If you have a Kindle or smartphone, you can download and read kink primers without worrying you will be stared and glared at by the studious on public transit. Amazon rocks at providing highly reviewed material. My Go-To references at the moment are Male Chastity: A Guide for Keyholders by Lucy Fairbourne and The Nice Girl’s Guide to Talking Dirty by Ruth Neustifter. I need help. I need inspiration. I need to know there are many who have come before me.
There’s every kind of book imaginable talking about every kind of kink from author’s who do their research. No excuses, folks.
Get HELP. Okay, we are super lucky to live in this time period and this country. Yes, there are still states who find it illegal to sell sex toys and Mississippi isn’t a raving counter-culture for open-mindedness, but it could be and has been a lot worse. It IS a lot worse in countries that shrug off rape, molestation, castration, and human rights. So if anything, if you need to get your sex right for something bigger than you, do it for the millions of people who don’t yet have that option.
My biggest resource is this lady: Amy Jo Goddard. She’s the author of Lesbian Sex Secrets for Men and her latest, Woman On Fire: 9 Elements to Wake Up Your Erotic Energy. Cooler than these books, she sends out a weekly newsletter with links and clips to her workshops. This woman is an expert. It comes across in her speaking engagements, her writing, and her all-out dedication to watching wallflowers learn how to own their sexual power.
If you’re still unsure about opening up to a pro, check out the variety of podcasts and radio programs that specialize in all things kink. Pick a show and take her for a test run. One hour a week listening to strangers talk about stuff you’d like to do or didn’t understand will change that hamster in your head into a panther on the prowl.
STEP TWO: “Make a Plan”
Don’t know the EXACT details of what you’d like to experience or how you’re going to ask for it? GOOOOOD.
I’m not being facetious. This really is a good thing. A large part of the erotic appeal is in the not-knowing-ness of what will happen and when. Those crazy no-holds-barred lovers in fantasy land, they surprise you all the time with their deviousness, don’t they?
BUT. We don’t want to set that up to happen in real life. Not yet. Real people come with baggage, their own ideas on what makes kink special, and their own fear of rejection.
What we need is a plan. If you have ever written a business plan or a goal setting plan, it’s the same thing, except it will probably be the most fun you’ve EVER had writing something that can sound like a court order.
Start at the end and work backward.
Let’s take an easy one. Say your goal is to be tied up. You could go straight to a dungeon and request this. Depending on the dungeon and the Dommes working there, you may have a good experience. If nothing else, you can leave saying, “Check that off the list.”
I am an advocate for letting the right person do the right job. I do not want my pipes cleaned by anyone other than the plumber. Personality and chemistry can make or break a life-altering experience. Start cruising FetLife. Set up a profile, be honest, stay as private as you’d like to be, and be KIND. They are people, too, and they were once in your shoes, if they’re not still there. The DDI, or Dominatrix Directory International means business. Please do not advertise or find a companion on Backpage or Craigslist. You pay for what you get. Desperate people do desperate things.
You write down, “I will be tied up with (insert desired material, be it silk ties, ropes, handcuffs) by a loving, compassionate, and attentive playmate by (insert realistic date).”
Keep the language light and positive. That fantasy lover may slap you around (in a sexy way), pull your hair, dig a heel into your palm, whatever! Guess what? A loving, compassionate, and attentive playmate will do this FAR better than a man or woman who does not encompass these attributes but still rings your kinky bell.
If you find a playmate that wants to play, is sort of loving and halfway attentive, this is your call but I say, NO DEAL. Don’t settle. You’ve come this far. Most of the horror stories related to me, most of which I have to undo, have happened because those dear souls didn’t do their homework. They were so ready to jump in, they forgot to check and make sure their playmate didn’t have “PSYCHO” scribbled across their foreheads in Sharpie. Some of THEM had to rush home and scrub marker off with a hot rag. It happens. 99% of the population in Fetish Land are not raging Speedball-fueled, self-destructive puppy mashers.
The timeline is yours to create but don’t put it so far in the future that we’re having this conversation next January.
The Steps in-between can look like this.
You’ve picked this happy event to take place three months from now. Awesome. Let’s break that up into two-week markers.
First two weeks: Find two books that appeal to your kinky resolution and actually read them. Make notes. Highlight parts you loved or gave you that A-ha lightbulb.
Second two weeks: If you have a partner, script out what you’d like to say. Set up a relaxing scene. This doesn’t have to be romantic. This only has to be a space where nothing else is going to intrude and you both have each other’s attention. Start by complimenting them. Don’t fake this. Remind them of all the things they do great for you and how you’re excited to try this next step in your relationship. If you feel good about it, and ask your gut first if it’s a good idea, share your erotic fantasy or reading material. Don’t push. Let it settle in. You’re planting seeds. If you don’t have such a partner, start looking for one that compliments your fantasy requirements. Start a conversation with them and be as open and authentic as possible. You can do this online, at meet-up groups, or by contacting a professional. Heck, you can even go to workshops. Chances are if you live in or near a big city, there will be a toy store that hosts classes like “Bondage 101.”
Third two weeks: If you’ve found that someone, the real work is in establishing trust. Make sure you tell them what you’d like to experience and make doubly sure you tell them what you DON’T want to experience. It may be frustrating, terrifying, and erotic all at once. You may have what sounds like the same conversation multiple times. This is great. Stick with it, stay open, try not to take anything personal and if you do, take a step back and come at it from a different angle. Most if not all discrepancies in a relationship happen because the communication is not there. If this is a new playmate, meet in a place that feels comfortable, safe, and preferably public. If that playmate isn’t suitable and you must decide to know that in the first or second meeting, be polite, tell them upfront the situation doesn’t feel right and start the search anew without making it about them. You can always adjust your timeline accordingly.
Fourth two weeks: Nail down those details. Stuff is going to come up. It may scare you, just don’t let it scare you off. Keep journaling. Keep fantasizing. Keep communicating. If it brings you comfort, set a one or two hour alarm for the play date and remind yourself, when it’s time, you’ve given yourself a window to feel whatever you feel without expectations.
Fifth two weeks: Dress to impress. That’s right. Pick something that makes you feel powerful and sexy. That could mean lingerie. That could mean fuzzy slippers. If you’re playing the submissive, dress to drive your mate nuts, but do it for yourself first. This is not your fantasy if you have to appease your playmate’s idea of how you should feel sexy. If you feel sexy, it won’t matter what you’re wearing so much as how you wear it.
Sixth two weeks: At the meeting place where both of you have decided upon and feel comfortable, do not rush into the scene. Sit together. Speak the fear into the open and give it a place. Tell each other what you’re excited about. Remind each other that at any time it gets too intense or doesn’t feel great, you will automatically stop and take a time out. You will hold each other. You will be human and revert to the core of loving kindness. You will make jokes. You will take care of each other’s preciousness. You will understand this is nothing more serious than two kids playing in the sandbox.
That’s doable, right? Nothing life-threating. Nothing too crazy or forced. Easy as pizza pie.
STEP THREE. Keep it in its proper place.
I’m a big one to talk, I know. I’ve been playing for over seven years and still get butterflies. My resolution for 2016 encompasses financial domination and male chastity, two areas of play I didn’t find that appealing at the start of my sexpert career, but have been requested of me so often, I can’t help but feel the allure. My plan will look much like the one above.
I do it because there’s wisdom in this stuff. I do it because it’s the best way I can know myself, my reactions, what’s really under the surface. I do it because it’s fun and if I didn’t do it, I would create drama in other areas of my life, at times unknowingly hurting others, under the guise of living a fully realized life. I do it because it’s on my terms and it’s my game to own.
I do it because I love being a human and feeling everything there is to feel while sharing it with people I genuinely appreciate and care about.
Why am I making such a huff about this? It goes back to that feeling of emptiness and exhaustion after making sure everyone else was taken care of during the holiday exchange. There are books out there that will say this far more eloquently, but for lack of attention span, here it is.
When I am satisfied, deeply, soundly, rocking-this-world satisfied, I am happy. I am in love with everything. Cravings disappear. Things that normally bug me become amusing. Criticism becomes helpful. Mistakes are presents into the mysteries of my life’s work. And this could be the most important feather in my cap, my sweetness of being causes a ripple effect that touches everyone and everything around me.
If I am to set any resolution for a day, month, or year, spreading a continuous wave of love, kinky or otherwise, knocks the socks off losing my extra ten pounds or drinking one Rockstar a week. This kind of resolution takes care of all the other, seemingly important nuisances I entertain on a daily.
Plus, you know, the orgasms aren’t bad, either.