My Introduction

Growing up in my crazy, fucked up family meant a lot of things. Much of it bad, but in this one respect, for me, really good. Even so it’s taken me a long time to let go of the “should”s, “should not”s, assumed “why”s of, and the everything society considers “normal” and “healthy” in life and love and sex.

I think I must have been six when I discovered my father’s copy of the Marquis De Sade and something in me knew. I was fascinated and attracted and wanted without really understanding. It simply never went away.

All through junior high and high school I devoured literature about it; in college I discovered the internet; but the basic tenants of “safe, sane, consensual” seemed to be largely ignored by those with whom I interacted online; in particular the “consensual” part seemed to be ignored by men who wanted what they wanted. So, I never took it off-line and left it behind because I didn’t trust that it was safe to engage in real life play and because I was a good Christian girl from the Midwest who was a student leader in her college campus ministry chapter.

Then, I was getting my master's degree in the Big Apple and I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t have turned heads or have been a problem, but NYC is big enough and scary enough on its own, for a shy girl from Nowhere, Midwest, population 50, without adding anything else to the mix.

I shared briefly with my mentor about this and he didn’t even bat an eyelash, but it wasn’t the time to actually consider finding a relationship or getting involved in the community alone, and then my mentor died and life fell apart, and I was involved with the Vineyard church movement and God knows it was just never going to happen because if those crazy assholes can‘t even acknowledge the full humanity of LGBTQ individuals, what the fuck are they going to do if they ever find out one of their members is into BDSM?

So I learned to not think about and it faded into the background and I just decided that I would live my life as a good, Christian, completely heteronormative girl from the Midwest who just loves Jesus.

And I do love Jesus. I really do. But I’d been told my whole life that this was unacceptable and loving Jesus meant that sex had to be heteronormative and only within the context of marriage and so I decided that if I just didn’t think about it and made myself forget, then it meant I was a good Christian and Jesus had "healed" me of whatever was wrong with me in the first place that made me want these things that nice, good, Christians girls from the Midwest just don’t know about and certainly do not desire.

And then I met my partner. And from the moment I saw him, I just wanted to know more. When we spent time together at work, I knew I wanted to spend more time with him. What I call our “first date” was a break at work that overlapped and we stood shoulder to shoulder watching the ducks in the pond out back, we didn’t really say anything, but he looked at me and I looked at him and we smiled at each other and it was something. So, we started IMing at work and then he gave me his number and I moved away for the summer.

So, on my drive down to my summer locale, the same day that he gave me his number and he had no idea I was leaving because I hadn’t told anyone, and I told him that it was my last day and where I was going and why -- additional vocational training -- he remarked about good people and bad people, and I explained my beliefs that there are no good or bad people, but that we’re all inherently good, we just occasionally do bad things, some more often than others certainly; we all have both light and dark in us. "The world isn’t split into good people and Death Eaters, Harry."

He mentioned he had a dark side and I ventured in and asked, telling him that of course he didn’t have to answer, but I wanted to know more, and he told me that he’s into Kink. So, as we started our relationship he was completely upfront about his interests and I explained about my early interests and why I had never followed through on anything, and we agreed to proceed with a relationship and see what happens.

It was through this that I got connected to FetLife and through FetLife to two local communities. As I stepped into the community to learn more (and really it’s been ALL educational up until last night and even last night was actually completely educational, just in a different kind of way), the first thing I did was text my partner and tell him where I would be for the first class (an intro to BDSM), when it would start, when it would end and when exactly I would call him. He was my safe call. And fortuitously enough for my comfort, one of the first things the teachers of the 101 class went over was safe calls -- always have them.

And that’s been the case since day one. I go to social events and potlucks at the dungeon, or dinner at a local restaurant; I go to classes and demos at the dungeon; I always have a safe call. I’ve made a few friends and know if I have questions or concerns, I can tell someone and be taken seriously and my feelings will be respected.

Last night there was a presentation by an individual who is well known and respected in the wider community for his needlework. I’m not into needles, but whatever floats your boat. His presentation, though, was about body mechanics and managing your own physical needs and limitations so that 1) play does not lead to injury and 2) you can keep playing for as long as you want in a night and in your life.

The minute he walked into the room, there was a clear sexual tension between us and I knew that if I wanted, I would have the opportunity to do pretty much anything I wanted to do with this man, up to and including sex in every form possible. But my partner and I are monogamous, so sex was off the table.

Since getting involved in this community, I’ve known that if I wanted to try something, there are people who would be willing to engage with me in whatever I asked; and if they couldn’t do it themselves, they’d be able to refer me to someone who can. I just haven’t had any desire, at all, to play with any of these people. They’re great. I like them. I just don’t want to play with them. I want to play with my partner and only my partner.

Because we’re 800 miles apart and can’t play at this point, I asked my partner after that first class, “If an opportunity to play comes up, if the energy and chemistry are right, if it’s something I want, are you okay with that?” I could hear the disappointment in his voice when he said, “I mean, it’s not like we’re committed to anything  and you’re there and things happen and if you don’t want to be with me, I mean, it happens.”

“No, no, no! I’m not talking a relationship or sex or anything like that,” I quickly explained. “I’m literally just asking about play. No sex. No genital contact. No anything other than experiencing various implements while fully clothed.”

He responded, “Oh. Yeah, I’d be more okay with that. I mean, if you’re at a demo or something, yeah. That’d be okay.”

So, the Professor walked in last night and we looked at each and people were filtering in and we exchanged a few words and he sat at the same table as me and we occasionally looked at one another and then the presentation started and he did his thing and it was over.

There was conversation and socializing after and he asked me what my deal was, and I explained about my early interest and self-denial and recent entrance into the community and that I have ZERO experience but I’m really interested in impact play and after some conversation with me and with other attendees about his presentation, he said, “I’d like to tease you, so I’m just going to leave this here” as he systematically laid his tools out on the table, “and I’m going to get another soda. I’ll be back.”

And I just stood there staring at everything with a hundred questions and million desires and a few other people started to filter over to the table and started to ask, “Why are you just staring at it?” and a few others would filter over and ask, “What’s everybody staring at?” and none of them seemed to have any idea that I was in the middle of this incredible exchange with this man.

When he came back, he asked if I had any questions or wanted to try anything. I had him explain what each item was and how it is most often used. He asked if he could demonstrate a few things (in particular the difference between a tool that “thuds” and a tool that “stings”) and I consented. After this mini demo he said, “So, I’m in town for the next 12 hours and you’re here so if you want anything, let me know.”

I called my partner and asked his permission with stipulations - fully clothed, no sex, no genital contact, no skin-to-skin contact. He said yes. A private workshop, for all intents and purposes, so that I could get some idea of whether I really am into this as much as I’m convinced I am and maybe get some idea of additional training he might want to invest in so that he and I can move forward safely.

The Professor and I negotiated the exchange within those bounds and chose some tools and because I’m NOT an exhibitionist, went into a private play area.

And it was….confusing.

Ignoring the sunburn, this is what the Professor did to my
right hip by "layering" a number of different implements

Because it wasn’t sexual. I mean, there had been and was all of this incredible sexual energy between us, but this exchange wasn’t sexual. It was just good. While it was good (it was really, really good), it was also completely wrong. It was exactly what I wanted but....not. I want it with my partner and my partner isn’t immediately available and all three of us had agreed upon negotiations that this was really more a private workshop.

The back of my thigh where he used the Evil Stick
(The Evil Stick is NOT evil)

So my goals were mostly met - I found some things I really like; I found one thing I really do NOT like; I learned more about myself and what I’m okay with in regards to these exchanges - which is largely that I do not want to have that kind of an exchange with anyone but my partner.



Then we just talked. For awhile. About how he got involved, how he uses specific terms, what this workshop time was like for me, how it was what I had been looking for, how it was different from what I’d expected. Not all of it, but the most essential part - that I had wanted to get to that place where my brain gets quiet. And to some degree I got there.

Lately, though, I’ve been struggling with the quiet in my brain as it relates to trauma. Part of the problem with PTSD is that I use language to orient myself in the world. When trauma is triggered, my brains goes silent and I literally have no words in my brain. The inability to even think, let alone speak, about what I’m experiencing is, in many ways, worse than the triggered trauma - because I can’t process or deal with the trauma and I've lost my equilibrium. I am disoriented and have no way to reconnect to the now.

Caned on my inner thigh

Because the Professor had mentioned his own mentor having a heart attack, this triggered a mini-trauma response concerning my mentor's death. I started to tear up, and he asked if I was ok, and I explained that I’d lost my own mentor in the vanilla world to a heart attack and it was a trigger, but that I was ok. Then, I explained what happens to my brain, how it all goes silent and I can’t find my words, which means I can’t find my equilibrium or orient myself and it’s terrifying and panic inducing. However, that same silence I experience in my brain in the midst of BDSM is exactly what I’m looking for and I can’t quite hold the two in tension.

He said, “That’s because the BDSM silence isn’t an interruption.”

That was it. I looked at him and I said, “If I weren’t in a monogamous relationship, I’d have sex with you right now. I really want to have sex with you.” And we talked a bit about social conditioning in regards to sexual mores in America and talked about our mutual interest in academic studies of brain function in regards to BDSM, and then I said to him, “I’d really like to kiss you, if it’s okay with you. Can I kiss you?”

He asked if it would be breaking my rules (no skin-to-skin contact), and I told him I was okay with it, and I wasn’t 100% sure about my partner, but I thought he might be okay with it, but that I’d deal with whatever consequences there were and then we kissed.

And I was so confused. I knew in that moment that I needed contact. I needed to be touched. I knew that it all came down to his use of the word “interruption” because I’ve got this whole theology of interruption and for seven years I’ve been raging at God about the interruption of my mentor's death and how Jesus didn’t show up in time to save him or to resurrect him or make me okay in the aftermath and I don’t know what interrupted Jesus, but I’m hurting and pissed off at him and in that moment, I just needed to be touched.

It wasn’t sexual. It wasn’t even remotely sexual. I mean, there’s something inherently sexual, I think, about BDSM and kissing a man who’s just caned you, and there’s even something sexual about kissing a man who hasn’t just caned you, but the intent in kissing him wasn’t sexual and I knew that I could kiss him and that he wouldn’t take it further and my clothes would stay on and that sex was completely off the table.

And I knew I had felt something and I was feeling something and I couldn’t figure it out because feelings are foreign and uncomfortable for me and I didn’t know what to call it. I just  knew that being touched in that moment and kissing this man who used the word “interruption,” this man who actually fucking gets it, was somehow necessary to my being okay right then. I just wanted to kiss him.

And it was all so confusing.

• Confusing because touch doesn’t come naturally to me. 
• Confusing because everything with him had been non-sexual sexual exchanges. 
• Confusing because I thought it would be sexual to be caned by him and it wasn’t. 
• Confusing because I found I do enjoy the impact play even more than I thought I would, but I also learned that who is as important as what and who can’t just be someone I experience that chemistry with but I need it to be my partner if I’m in a relationship. (Partnered, chemistry is necessary and insufficient; were I single, chemistry would be necessary and sufficient).
• Confusing because I had this moment of connection to something completely outside of this world that I’ve been struggling with for SEVEN YEARS which no one in my vanilla world understands.

I've been intensely struggling with PTSD this summer and trying to finally start talking about my mentor and finding words around his death and trying to figure out how to make meaning out of it when it seems impossible to do so. Yet here was this man who used one word in regards to trauma responses that communicated to me that he absolutely gets it even if he didn’t know that he was communicating something so deep and powerful and needed to me. I HAD to connect to this man who spoke my language and more than anything in that moment I just needed comfort and kissing him was the single most comforting thing I could ask for.

That, I realized, was the name of the feeling I was seeking when I looked at him and asked permission to kiss him: comfort.

Kissing was less intimate than sex would have been. Kissing in many ways was less intimate than hugging would have been - because in that moment, had I sought a hug, I would have been seeking to be cradled. I do not believe either of us would have been up for that. I just needed the comfort of connection and kissing accomplished it beautifully.