You know what I wish…?
I wish there was a tumblr, or a blog, or a book devoted to 1st-person accounts of their first fetish or kink experiences. “My first time,” only with kink. I’m sure that the stories would be funny, poignant, embarrassing, and joyful all in turn. Much more interesting than first-time sex stories. Everyone invariably gets wounded in the sex wars when they’re exploring sex and relationships for the first time, but for sadomasos and other kinky people, it’s even more difficult. It’s like having to lose your virginity (God, I hate that barbaric phrase, it really needs to be retired) twice. At least biology and society expect you to have sex and relationships that facilitate sex, and the system is set up to encourage that for you, even if you are very shy or think that you are unattractive. If you need to experience your kink, well, you’ve got to figure out a way to make that happen for you. For many of us, it is a lonesome journey fraught with peril.
Yes, a blog of first-time kinky experiences would be good!
Here, I’ll go first!
When I was 19 years old, I knew that I wanted to be spanked and manhandled and probably a lot more. I discovered what BDSM was shortly after getting internet access on the home computer when I was 18-19. When I read it about it, I knew immediately that it applied to me. I looked up sadomasochism and I knew.
Now I had to find a man to do this with and I had to find ways to learn these things. I started to look almost immediately after I moved into my first apartment and had privacy and my own computer. I signed up for Yahoo! personals, which was a free and popular online dating service at the time. I don’t remember most of my first ad, but I know that I wrote that I was submissive and I was looking for an experienced dominant or sadistic man “to try things.” I said that I was NOT looking for a Master or a boyfriend and I did not want to be anyone’s “slave” (at the time, I found that word deeply offensive, not to mention CHEESY, but I’ve become desensitized), and I was also not looking to have sex. Then I included a physical description, assurances that I was a nice safe polite person, and a photo of me with the head cropped off.
The “no sex, thanks” thing really blew guys’ minds and introduced me to something I have found consistently in the BDSM community whenever I’ve gone trawling in it for partners: het male doms expect sex. If you “play” with them, they expect to fuck you at some point in the activity, or at least get a blowjob and some sort of nudity-and-sex thing from you. Personally, I think that this is a big problem. It makes it difficult for women who are curious and want to try new things, or a fetish, but they don’t necessarily want to have sex with SirMasterDarthVader4U from Fetlife she just met. Male Doms would get a lot more play if they approached without the automatic expectation of intimacy. The guys get cranky and offended when you have sexual boundaries, too, as if you are being completely unreasonable: “If I can’t finger you while I spank you, then what’s the point? You know this is a sexual ad service for adults, right?” Ugh!
Anyway, when I was 19 and looking, I was technically a virgin and not about to have sex with some random guy I met on the internet just because I was curious about BDSM. I saw that this was going to be a problem. Also, most of the responses to my ad were bad. I quickly learned another rule of internet dating: don’t want for the guys to fall into your lap–find the ones you want and approach.
That is how I met Gregg, my first Top. I wish that he was here so that I could give him a hug and kiss his face, because Gregg was awesome.
Gregg had a respectful, fun ad that was very clear. Married white professional male, 40, triathlete, dominant, experienced, very safe and all limits respected. Looking for women or couples for assignations, explorations or ??? Just ask! References and briefcases of images available, inquire within. My wife knows everything, there is no drama. His profile pic was a woman tied to a chair. She had a big smile on her face and she looked like she was having fun, and she was wearing a pretty dress.
I sent him an email, and off we went.
Gregg was a mid-level executive who worked for a company that sold parts for commercial planes. He looked just like Lance Armstrong and he had a smile of kleig-light wattage. He smiled a lot, because he was a friendly, affable fellow, except for when he wasn’t. The first time I met him was in a coffee shop. After he sat down, he immediately took his driver’s license and library card out of his wallet and slid them across the table with his business card.
Nobody had ever done that to me before, and I didn’t know what to think. I asked him what it was for.
“It’s so that you know that I am who I said that I was. You can keep my business card if you want.”
The second time, we met at a cafe and his wife sat with us for ten or fifteen minutes. She was a babe and I felt a little intimidated by her.
The third time, he drove to my apartment on his lunch break and spanked my ass. I was wearing cutoff jean shorts, which I lowered, and ridiculous bikini underpants with a cartoon frog on them. I remember the frog because he commended on it. I was bent over at the foot of the bed, grasping the iron bedframe. I had very short hair at the time, and there was nothing to hide my face. The sound of his hand was loud and my cat hid under the bed. He spanked me until my ass was red and it tingled for a while afterward, which fascinated me. I kept going to the mirror to check it, after he was gone, and I put on pants instead of shorts when I left the house that evening.
It was good, but I wanted to try it more. Harder.
Gregg came back to see me me next week, and we did.