30 Days of Kink Day 14 Real Life Kink

Day 14: How would you say real life BDSM/kink varies from fantasy BDSM/kink? If you haven’t experienced real life BDSM/kink how do you think it might differ?

I haven’t experienced real life BDSM but in the fantasy no one ever gets foot cramp or has too much tea earlier in the day and has to constantly be uncuffed in order to take 50,000 potty breaks or has their contact lens go round the wrong side of their eye during an intense part of the scene, resulting in the big, scary D-type whimpering in pain, blindly feeling for the eye drops.

Or shutting the animals out of the room, only for them to sit outside the door and howl/miaow in protest. That’s got to heighten the mood, right? Maybe pretend you’re being tortured at the back of a pet shop…

What are you DOING in there? (credit)

What are you DOING in there? (credit)

Or someone ate something unfortunate and is now contributing non-consensual olfactory sensations to the scene. Who needs a gag when your partner can just eat too many eggs four hours before a flogging, right? ‘I said breath play was a hard limit, Gary. Jesus.

Now I’m tempted to write a scene like that and title it ‘Nights You Wish You Were Vanilla’

That’s just your body being obnoxious. There’s also the ‘Everyone’s a Pro at Everything, All the Time’ trope in fantasyland. They lift that first cane off the shelf of Spanx and Thanx, a light from On High touches them and that D-type instantly and perfectly knows how to top everyone using any implement.

But in real life when you do things the first few times you’re definitely going to have to work out how they work and then build on those experiences. I picture people using new implements or trying new scenes almost like putting together Ikea furniture. ‘How does this bit work…? WOW’ ‘It that supposed to happen?’ ‘Whoops. Mind that. We’ll know that for next time.’

Another body-related one: Fetish clothing is not forgiving. In our fantasies all that leather and latex feels amazing and is so incredibly flattering, as well. Our clothes enhance the roles we inhabit.

In reality… Leather doesn’t really breathe and rubber and vinyl don’t look like they’d be super comfortable over a long period (though I could be wrong, I don’t know), but none of those are exactly loose, billowing sorts of fabrics that hide any imperfections.

I have a feeling that having a great time with BDSM involves marrying the fantasy with the reality—unless you genuinely are a physically flawless person who never gets cramp and is an expert in every scene/type of play—you take what’s happening and sort of CGI the rest of the fantasy over the top of it in your mind.

In the fantasy, to paraphrase Vonnegut: ‘Everything is beautiful and everything hurts (the way you want it to).’

Now I can’t stop thinking of things that could go wrong.

From the innocuous-but-highly-annoying: mosquito in the room. I’m picturing a restrained, squirming bottom hoping like hell the thing doesn’t land on them while a top flails a heavy flogger around trying to get it, but mostly hitting him or herself. Could also be a spider, wasp, or any other bug, but mosquitoes do that zinging in the ear just to let you know they could bite you any time. Sadistic bastards. RED.

To the possible-and-therefore-terrifying: an earthquake/fire/tornado or burst pipe/gas leak/bomb threat while you’re in complicated restraints. (Always have safety shears/keys/escape clips/etc at the ready, kids!)

'We HAVE the handcuffs... How are MORE handcuffs going to help?' (purchase that)

‘We HAVE the handcuffs… How are MORE handcuffs going to help?’ (purchase this)

All the way to the mortifying-to-the-point-of-moving-to-Mars: your hyper religious grandparents stopping by and hearing ‘violence’ so they call the police and they find…what they find. Which would of course be the time you’re doing the naughty priest and nun bit.

The more I think about it the more amazed I am anyone ever has successful BDSM scenes.

Oh! What about—after weeks of planning you finally get to do a really complicated scene with someone. All the anticipation, you’re nearly in subspace before you’re out of your car at their place.

Things are just starting to flow in the scene—it’s something you’ve never done before and it’s going better than you thought it would. You weren’t sure you’d be able to take something so intense. This is going to be an incredible weekend. Your phone goes. Your sister has gone into pre-term labour. She’s six weeks early and you’re her birth partner. Sucks to be you.

This is fun. I could do this all day. As a writer I love ruining my characters’ good times.

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