All the Smaller For It: Kink as Orientation & Nonsexual Kink

All the Smaller For It a.k.a. Everyone Doesn’t Have to Experience Relationships the Way You Do

This week hasn’t been so swift, as my Mother likes to say when she doesn’t feel good. ‘I don’t feel so swift.’

I started Monday morning being compared to a rapist and pedophile for being kinky. Here’s what happened.

Sunday, in a conversation on Twitter, giver of hilarity and taker of will to live, I pointed out that some people believe kink is an orientation, since it’s unchangeable and present from an early age. This didn’t feel like a controversial statement to me.

Monday I woke up to someone saying that NO, kink is only sexual and if we’re going to include kinky people in LGBT then we have to include rapists and pedophiles.

I said that first—kink doesn’t have to be sexual—asexual people can be kinky (the person disagreed) and that kink is all about consent. Rape and pedophilia very much aren’t.

Then I realised—this person doesn’t know what my job is.

So I explained this is what I do—I read (books, articles, essays) and write and listen to podcasts and learn from other people and have a show, sharing information about kink. Teaching is an excellent way of learning—it helps you remember what you’ve read, synthesise information from various sources and forces you to solidify your opinions, as well as form sound reasoning behind those opinions.

This is what I do all day, seven days a week. It’s my job and my personal life.

Sarah McDonald Kinky Nerd

This is the safest image that came up when I searched for ‘kinky nerd’. It’s Sarah McDonald.

I figured they just thought I was a random person with as little information as they had.

The response I received: Good for you.

Then they told me to pick up a biology textbook because I didn’t understand how sexuality worked.

That person (and the people who agreed with them in the thread) will never listen to my show (or read this) because they aren’t interested in learning anything. They’ve decided what kink is and is not. And that is sad and infuriating, but their lives will be all the smaller for it.

They know what kink and sex is for them specifically and that’s enough for them. Which is fine—my knowing that other people experience the world a different way because either I do so myself or because I’ve read about or spoken to people who experience the world differently is enough for me.

Some people don’t believe other people when they talk about their experiences of the world—if they don’t experience it for themselves it doesn’t exist for them. They believe only their experience of anything is ‘correct’ and everything else is wrong and must be explained or accounted for rather than simply accepted as a different way of living in the world.

I need to learn to leave people alone when they don’t want to learn.

I have this wacky thing, though, with information. It’s free—here—understand the world and humanity better.

If you’re reading this, perhaps you’d like to understand some of the world and your fellow humans better. So, here is some information.

My presents often come in the form of information. (source)

Kink as Orientation

Kink is an orientation—for some people—because it’s how they relate to others intimately. Not just sexually, but emotionally. They are ‘oriented’ that way.

You can’t un-orient someone from their particular thing.

I should say ‘we’. Looking back, my service-oriented submissiveness was present for years before my romantic feelings for women were. I didn’t have a word for it, but I knew I wanted to be useful to a woman I admired.

For years I could describe, with many, many words how particular women (who I’d now just call Dominant) made me feel using many, many words, (which I’d now just say submissive). I could also sort of describe the type of relationship I wanted (now it’d be called a power exchange) and all the things I’d like to do (now it’d be service).

When Jillian Keenan was on Why Are People Into That?! with Tina Horn and they talked about spanking Tina asked her if she had to give up spanking or sex which would it be Jillian said sex without much pause. Tina said the same.

If that isn’t oriented towards spanking, then I don’t know what is.

(Keenan has a great article on Slate called Is Kink an Orientation.)

In the recent episodes of Tina’s show about masochism with Dirty Lola (pt1, pt2), she actually said she felt she was oriented towards sadomasochism. That it was profoundly part of her.

For some people, BDSM isn’t an orientation. It’s just something people do on occasion to spice things up—to goof around. To feel naughty. There’s nothing wrong with that.

To say that kink isn’t an orientation is like saying that because some people fool around with the same sex at a play party, no one is ever completely gay or romantically oriented towards the same sex.

Just because something works one way for you doesn’t mean it has to work that way for everyone else. Other people’s experiences are just as valid as yours.

If it’s something that you couldn’t give up—if it makes up a part of your core being and has been present since a young age—you’re oriented that way. Just like you’re whatever gender you are (or aren’t), or whatever sexuality you are.

Speaking of sexuality.

Relax. It’s not what you think. (source)

Non-Sexual Kink

Kink can be non-sexual. Even for sexual people. If your thing is rope you can enjoy tying up everyone for the art and creativity and challenge. You don’t have to want to fuck everyone in the rope.

Though I suppose some people could be so turned on by the act of tying—if they were pansexual and had a high libido—maybe they could find everyone in their rope sexy.

The point is—lots of kink can be non-sexual. Power exchange isn’t called ‘sex exchange’. It’s about power and control and trust and a thousand other things. Sex can be involved, but it doesn’t have to be.

A lot of people think power is sexy, but a lot of people think cars are sexy, too. When someone buys a new car you don’t automatically say, ‘When are you going to fuck in it?’

Just because something is deemed ‘sexy’ by the wider world doesn’t mean sex is involved.

Someone I know who is a Master and is married to his slave—he also had another slave for a time (they were all poly) and he intentionally didn’t have sex with his second slave because he didn’t want that energy to cloud the power exchange. If a full-time Master/slave relationship isn’t kinky, I don’t know what is, but they didn’t have sex.

There are also several groups of asexual kinksters on Fet. I don’t know what to tell them. ‘Some people on Twitter think you don’t exist so… Sorry.’

Kink is definitely about sex for many people. Just because it is for you doesn’t mean it has to be for everyone.

Because I’m a creative person and this is how my mind works—I began trying to work out if there were any kinks that couldn’t be practised non-sexually. The only ones that were really difficult were chastity and things like prostate milking.

Even forced orgasms could be non-sexual. It’s not something I have any interest in, but if I were in a long-term power exchange and my Ma’am was really into that, I’d do it as an act of submission. Orgasms feel good, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not something I’d ever ask for or care about. After about the third I’d be yawning.

But with penises and their accoutrements—if you don’t care about that stuff…I mean, I could lock my husband’s junk up and his biggest issue would be bathing. Trying to clean an uncircumcised cock in a chastity cage is probably a real issue.

But: ‘Now, keep your hands off yourself!’


I really never thought I’d wind up writing about Walter’s dick, but there we are. It has a little turtleneck and he washes under it and then goes FOONK and pulls the covers back over its head. It’s sweet.

And it never bothers me for anything. That’s the best part.

It couldn’t make me happier if it had its own Minion sweater. (source)

The Devaluing of Sex Education

Now. The ‘Good for you’ where the person dismissed the time, energy, money and effort I put into learning and sharing information about kink.

I was shaking with rage. I’ve never had my intelligence dismissed before—to that degree, I mean, I am a woman—and I did not care for it.

They had made up their mind about what kink (and kinky people) were and didn’t care that someone else knew more and was happy to share.

I think much of this comes from our culture’s devaluing of sex education. Sex is simple and straightforward and anyone can have it. There’s nothing new to learn about it, right? So you probably already know everything there is to know. And you certainly don’t want to know more—especially about anything deviant like BDSM. Mainstream media will tell you everything you need to know about that, except that’s nearly always written by non-kinky people who don’t do research and perpetuates incorrect and harmful information from other non-kinky writers.

One of the most profound things I have learned in studying sexuality—about myself and the rest of humanity—is that sexuality is far more complicated and nuanced than we’ve been led to believe by religion or government or society. It’s beautiful and amazing. If people were just allowed to be themselves and explore, with other consenting adults, obviously, we’d all be better off. I don’t know how much work we’d get done. But there’d probably be fewer wars.

How we are oriented—how we connect with others intimately—whether it’s sexually, emotionally, how we need to structure our relationships to be most fulfilled, whatever… is when we’re being most true to ourselves. If we have to lie about that—about who we are at our core—then we’re lying about everything else. You can’t build an honest life on top of an untruth.

People who give you resources to help you be more honest with yourself and those in your life—because we can’t ‘teach’ you anything, we can just give you resources and hope you make the most of them—hope they work for you. We want you to be your most authentic self. Because when you are—you’re happier, as are the people around you. And there’s no reason to be miserable. Some people have to remain closeted due to the country they live in—or the specific area—and my heart goes out to you. But knowing yourself and knowing you’re not alone is vital, I think.

I’m a fucking sex and kink resource librarian. It’s my goal in life to accumulate even more resources to help even more people in future. If you ever come across a useful resource, send it my way, (thepageist [at] gmail) and I’ll add it to the pages on my site.

I’m going for the virtual, kinky version of this. It’s the long room at Trinity College, Dublin. More photos here.

We’ve Been Here For Years, Mofos

So this Twitter person (and several agreed) that we shouldn’t allow kinkily oriented people under the LGBT umbrella unless we were going to allow in rapists and pedophiles, too.

Well, uninformed individual who didn’t want to listen to the person who devotes their life to this, but who has a podcast, kinky people have been marching in gay pride since 1981. So HA-HA.

I thought so, but I wasn’t sure of the dates, so I would like to thank Laura Antoniou for the following information, who very graciously answered my questions on Twitter (which isn’t all evil).

My question to her was when did Leather people start marching in pride?

She had to look it up—thank you, Laura! (I wasn’t even sure where to start with that) and said the Gay Male S/M Activists (GMSMA) and the Lesbian Sex Mafia (a lesbian BDSM community) marched in 1981 in Gay Pride in New York. There was also a big Leather contingent at the 1987 March on Washington for Gay and Lesbian Rights, which was possibly the first appearance of SSC—Safe Sane and Consensual—on a banner.

It’s not like regular old gay folks are promoting consent on banners out in the world. Neither are non-kinky people, for that matter. But the Leather people were.

SSC was created by the Leather community, as a way of putting the non-kinky people’s minds at ease. Because, you know, we’re so terrifying. Doing things with other people who want to do them.

Meanwhile, thirty-five years later, the vanilla world still hasn’t caught up and started using the consent model we do, which is more conscientious than theirs. The irony. It burns.

Back to Laura, though. She said her first Pride was in 1984 and she was marching with the Lesbian Sex Mafia in the early 90s, where they had regular debates on whether or not to march with the lesbians of the leathermen. To which she added ‘Imagine!’ I can just hear that in her New York accent.

She also said back then there were protests to them marching, where they were called rapists and child molesters. Charming. Good to know the haters haven’t come up with anything new in decades.

This comes back to people thinking they already know everything they need to know about those dirty perverts, though, right?

Anyone reading this who worries they are anything like that—you are fine how you are. As long as what you’re doing is consensual with another adult human being you are fine exactly how you are. It’s not your fault the people around you think they know everything there is to know about human sexuality. I know I don’t know everything and I’m excited to learn more. I know that my world is only going to expand, though; it’s not going to contract—that’s not how it works. You just learn about new and varied ways people connect and relate—both to others and themselves. Physically and emotionally, sexually and intellectually.

This experience has made me endlessly grateful for the community of kink and sex educators I am proud to call my peers and mentors and it makes me even more determined to work to eradicate such narrow thinking. It also makes me grateful for and proud of my friends, who have been open-minded and supportive and of me and my career from the beginning.

This is for you. (source)

(This piece originally appeared in a shorter form in episode 54 of The Pageist podcast.)

Naked People Make Me Fall Asleep

Why the Asexual Is Thinking About You Naked

Not long ago I met a photographer who processes photography in old-timey ways—daguerrotypes, rather than Polaroids. (His name is Nicolas Laborie and his work is pretty neato.)

Nicolas is interested in gender and how people present themselves and so on so we had a thought-provoking chat and exchanged social media information, as you do these days.

After we parted ways, he looked at my website, which puts right out there that I’m asexual and kinky and a lesbian and whatever else. And somehow we got onto the subject of whether people were more interesting with or without clothing on. (I think it was a question posed on twitter you were supposed to retweet with your answer about which you found more interesting.)

I said I found clothed people more interesting by far, which he was intrigued by.

Nicolas is a photographer and artist so it’s understandable that he’d find nudity beautiful and the human canvas and… whatever people think. I can sort of understand it, but naked people do nothing for me.

You’re a Blank Canvas…Mostly

It’s not that I find nudity offensive or dirty or gross or anything—obviously, it’s natural. You’re not born with clothes on.

But to me bodies are bodies. They’re just there. I’ve spoken before about how I don’t care about food or sex. You have to have food to keep yourself alive. Your body is there to carry around your brain.

A naked body doesn’t tell me a great deal about the person inside it. Now, I can look at certain sizes, shapes and gender presentations and think, ‘You have had to put up with a lot of bullshit that I haven’t’ or ‘Wow… the story about that scar must be something else… that that person can tell me in their own time.’ Or ‘That is a person who used to have lots of money. Now they have lots of tattoos. Those on the ribs must’ve hurt, woo.’

In general, though, I’m not learning much.

(I’m so used to seeing people with at least one tattoo now, that when a person doesn’t have any—or if they have no moles or freckles or other marks, they just look… blank.)

There’s a particular fascination to flawless skin, but when it’s an entire body it seems like something that’s waiting to have an image projected onto it.

Because I don’t sexualise nudity it’s all body parts to me. Which only sounds a little like something a serial killer would say.

But clothing—that tells me loads about you. How you feel about yourself that day. How you feel about the world. What you could find in the dark after that one-night-stand.

Clothes have thousands more textures and layers—both figuratively and literally—than bodies.

The Clothes Don’t Make the Woman…but They Don’t Hurt, Either

Some clothes, on some people, carry a particular frisson for me. A woman in a pinstripe suit or a frock coat? I don’t care how emotionally connected I was to that same woman, seeing her naked wouldn’t be nearly as interesting. Even seeing her in lingerie wouldn’t be as intriguing. And it’s not the clothing, because that frock coat just lying on the bed or hanging up has no personality. It doesn’t have a Dominant woman in it. A tailored, black blazer and a white silk blouse can’t tell me how it likes its coffee then tell me to be good while it’s out at work during the day.

This is a frock coat. A Dominant Lady in this frock coat would have an easy life, indeed. (source)

It’s not all about the clothes on the Dominant woman—I’ll still happily sit at her feet if she’s in her comfy jim-jams with her hair up. And if she wants to be naked then that’s her choice and I’d never be the sort of s-type who was only interested in submitting if my Domme was wearing just the thing I like (or actually dressed at all, in my case). If being naked made my D-type happy, then naked she shall be. ‘And what SPF will that be, ma’am? Nipple burns are not to be trifled with.’

Brains vs Tongue First (Again)

I engage with the world intellectually rather than ‘tongue-first’, as a book my friend Bean recently discovered called it. Tongue-first is tasting, touching, smelling, sensing things rather than thinking about them—something I discussed in this essay. I’m decidedly in the brain-first camp, and due to that, I’m more interested in what a person looks like dressed for the reasons listed earlier. Your clothes give me more information about what’s important to me than your bare skin does.

(Also, naked people always look cold to me—probably because if I’m nude I’m cold so I’m projecting, but I always want to give the nudies a caftan or something.)

If you want to run your senses all over someone then it follows that nudity would be A+ in your book. The ‘goods’ are available for assessment, a naked person’s pheromones would probably be easier to smell than someone layered in textiles, their hairy, smooth, stubbly and…whatever else bits are there to be touched in whatever way you both agree is a-okay, and, if you were inclined to lick them, well, everything is at your disposal.

Seeing how a person holds themselves when naked would possibly give you an idea of how comfortable they were with their sexuality or within their own skin, as well, which would be useful information about their capacity for sensuality. Though you may not process it so coldly and rather intuit it.

The Squishy Bits

I have other thoughts on the genitals specifically, but I’ll save those for a future writing. I just know you want to know what the asexual thinks about genitals.

{This essay originally appeared in a slightly different format in episode 48 of The Pageist podcast during the My Submissive Life segment.}

Non-Sexual BDSM with Pegasus

Beyond the Rainbow is a blog that frequently focuses on asexuality within a BDSM context. I recommend checking out the site in a general, but this post in particular articulately addresses the common question of what asexuals get out of kink.

This was written for the December 2014 Carnival of Aces on “Touch, Sensuality, and Non-Sexual Physical Intimacy”

For me, BDSM is completely non-sexual and I never desire for it to lead to anything sexual. My mind just doesn’t make an intuitive connection between the two. The pleasure I get from BDSM is simply about playing with the physical sensations and emotional states that BDSM involves.

It might be ouchy, thuddy, stingy of impact play. The heat from dripping wax, or the cold of an ice cube. Or tickly, scratchy, soft sensation play. The coarseness of hemp rope. It might be feeling scared, safe, trapped, free, in control, vulnerable, powerful, comforted. Or the shared experience with a friend or partner, creating a beautiful play scene together. Being a canvass for another’s creativity.

For me, it’s not about being turned on or sexual pleasure. It doesn’t matter if I’m not sexually (or romantically or sensually) attracted to the other person. I do BDSM because I want to feel something, with my whole body, mind and soul. And as a way of connecting with a friend or lover.

It’s difficult to describe exactly what is non-sexual BDSM. Everybody feels or thinks differently about where exactly the boundary between sexual and non-sexual lies. To me kissing doesn’t feel sexual at all, but for other people it does. On top of that how something feels isn’t always rational or easy to put into words. Roughly the things I feel to be sexual are any intimate activity that involves genital contact or sight. But my feelings don’t follow that as a hard and fast rule, and there are exceptions.

So when it comes to negotiating non-sexual play, just saying I don’t want to do anything sexual isn’t really enough. It needs to be much more specific. Which sexual acts or behaviours are okay, and which are hard limits. Whether all genital contact is off the table, or just genital contact with hands/body, or are certain toys are fine. Which parts of your body are okay to touch, or are breasts, nipples, mouth, genital region, etc off limits. Whether clothing or underwear needs to be worn, or if you are comfortable with full nudity. I still find these conversations really awkward, but it is better than miscommunications ruining a play session or relationship.

Another thing I like knowing when negotiating play is what the other person enjoys about BDSM and their reasons for doing it. I find this helpful anyway for finding a play style that suits us both, and knowing what to expect from each other. But also find it reassuring to know if they can enjoy BDSM for reasons other than sex.

For many people BDSM is intensely sexual, and there’s obviously nothing wrong with that. It just means that if somebody doesn’t enjoy BDSM without sex being involved, then we’re not compatible.

But finding people who are open to non-sexual play isn’t particularly difficult. The fetish clubs I’ve been to have tended not to have much – if any – sexual play going on. So I’ve always felt pretty safe playing with people in clubs. And since being involved in the kink community, I’ve met plenty of people who are able to enjoy BDSM without it being sexual.

This was re-posted under the Creative Commons license.

An Interview about Asexuality

Couldn't find source. This is similar, if you'd like to purchase it.

Couldn’t find source. This is similar, if you’d like to purchase it.

Some months ago I started listening to Erotic Awakening, a podcast about all sorts of kinky things and non-traditional sexuality. The review is here.

After that, I started corresponding with the hosts, Dan and dawn, and Dan looked at my profile on FetLife, as you do, and asked if I’d be interested in being interviewed on the show about being asexual. They often interview people about topics that are unfamiliar to them so I was happy to oblige.

It so happened I was working on an essay about being asexual and kinky at the time and I said they may want to wait until they’d read that as a little background.

Dan and dawn are super busy people so the interview was put on the back burner for a few weeks, but the interview happened over the holiday and we had a great time. We could have talked for much longer, but the basics were covered, I think. If there’s enough interest I’ll do a segment on my show about it.

It’s streamable and downloadable here and also available on iTunes. It’s episode 383 of Erotic Awakening.

The show is NSFW. So headphones for definite.

Being Asexual and Kinky

What I Mean When I Say She’s Hot (Being Asexual and Kinky)

Recently, I updated my FetLife profile and added this:

I’m an asexual lesbian married to my best friend, whom I love dearly and who is a man. He is asexual, as well, and one of the best people I know. He knows I’m kinky and is 100% supportive.

I wasn’t planning on sharing this information here, as I tend to catch grief about it (I’m not a unicorn—people have met me in person and can attest I do indeed exist), and prefer to explain how I feel as I get to know people. But in case someone does decide to read my profile: I am not interested in sex as a thing to do with another person. It’s an interesting concept intellectually. I’ve read a lot about it. I write about it sometimes, but I’ve never cared to do it myself.

Dominant women are hot, though.

I should probably write a blog post explaining what I mean when I say that.

So this is that blog post.

I’ve always been fascinated by sex. Anything that’s considered taboo is going to get a curious person’s attention and in my house sex was taboo. And little readers are going to read about it. So I read a lot and learned a lot.

But I wasn’t interested in doing it.

I thought women were lovely to look at. Particularly older, intelligent, confident women. It was a very specific type. And I wanted to do her bidding. I wanted her to tell me what to do. (Dear lord, a confident woman bossing me around…)

Errand-running, fetching and carrying, general secretarial work. Yes and please and how else might I assist you, ma’am?

A woman in a suit. Can I get an ‘Amen’? Skirt, slacks, or a tux. Testify and go tell it on the mountaintop.

Still, I had no desire to see those women naked or do anything to those naked parts.

People are just more interesting looking to me with clothes on. They don’t have to be dressed like Nanook of the North—I love me some fetish wear—nudity is just kinda… meh.

Though I do appreciate a nice nipple.

Though I do appreciate a nice nipple. (Seriously. I tried searching for a human nipple but wanted to finish this post tonight.) (source)

(Seriously. I tried searching for a lovely human nipple and got distracted. I wanted to finish this post tonight.)

There are different types of attraction. Romantic, sexual, intellectual, emotional, aesthetic. Vanilla people have those.

Then, when you get kinky with it, there’s power exchange, pain stuff and kinky things, oh my. If someone is good with a flogger, do you need to be romantically attracted to them? Or in a power exchange? For some people yes, for others, no.

Most people equate romantic attraction with sexual attraction, but for me, thinking someone is swell has nothing to do with touching their genitals. And I’ve known sexual people who can outright despise a person but find them sexually attractive. I find that fascinating. For me, no matter how interesting I find a person, if it turns out they hold particular views (being racist or transphobic, for example) I instantly lose all interest. It just evaporates. No more errand-running for you, no matter what you look like in a suit or how much command presence you possess.

Then I go 'whoosh' right away from you. (source)

Then I go ‘whoosh’ right away from you. (source)

It took me a long time to realise I was kinky because, though I’d read about pageists under the masochism heading in Richard von Krafft-Ebing’s Psychopathia Sexualis they were non-sexual like me, and kinky people are portrayed as being highly sexual in our media.

And it is a very sexual way to be. There’s a sexual energy there, even when sex isn’t being done. (It’s something you do. You don’t have it, like a garden gnome or a Lionel train set.)

The gnomes... they know what you do with your naughty bits. (source)

The gnomes… they know what you do with your naughty bits. (source)

It’s difficult to be what I am (a pageist) in a vanilla world, because when you want to do errands for another woman they think you want something from them. Generally sex. Because everyone wants the sex.

No, see, the service is the sex for me. All you have to do is be genuinely grateful and give me more chores to do.

This caused no end of pain growing up because I wasn’t like other people in many ways. Let’s enumerate them, shall we?

1. Lesbian (not common or popular in my conservative, religious area).

2. Not interested in sex (you’d think this was a plus being one of the dreaded Gays, but it just makes a person feel more isolated, as the other gay people you meet do want sex).

3. Possessing a ‘You must be over 50 to ride this ride’ sign. (Wasn’t I supposed to be swooning over the hot chicks? I wanted to date Helen Mirren. Well, I wanted her to pat me on the butt and tell me to get her a coffee. Same difference.)

I was just sitting over in the corner with my books and my music. Speaking of. My favourite musical artists from age 12 to 19? Bette Midler and Barbra Streisand. All the other girls? New Kids on the Block and … whomever else was popular. I can’t recall; I try not to think about that time of my life.

My peers LOVED me, is what I’m saying.

When I attempted to befriend them it only frightened them more. (source)

When I attempted to befriend them it only frightened them more. (source)

It was only after working out the entire being kinky thing that I realised I could have a power exchange with a (what I now see would be a Dominant) woman taking over certain parts of my life (what I wore and ate and such) as well as doing certain types of bondage and pain things like spankings and floggings. Prior to that I’d fantasized about being of vital importance to two women—the one at home who’d be kind and nurturing and run my life and give me cuddles—and the one at work who’d tell me what to do and bend me over the desk and spank me. (This was before Secretary came out, but that film made my life.)

Being brought up in a culture where violence is a threat that nice people never commit meant the gentle, nurturing sort of Dominant I would want would never strike someone they love. The concept of both the spanky funtimes and the life-coach, enforced bedtimes being administered by the same person didn’t enter my head.

B-HAHA. I’m a little late to the game, but I’m catching up quickly. Evil sticks look interesting, by-the-by.

Pictured: Also interesting.

Pictured: Also interesting. Along with 75% of everything else at Leatherbeaten. (source)

I’m not sure how I personally feel about sex in regard to my own kink. I certainly write about it. And I get how other people find BDSM sexy. I’m not sexually attracted to anyone, but the idea of submitting sexually in certain ways to a dominant woman I was in some sort of power exchange with has some appeal, though I don’t know if that’s only a fantasy. If the right situation never happens that’s fine. If it does somehow then I’ll jump off that bridge when I get to it.

I still consider myself asexual, though, as asexuality is not having sexual attraction (which is not the same as libido—you can be hungry and not have anything particular in mind to eat). I’m certainly not interested enough to bother pursuing it. I love my life the way it is and would rather hang out with my husband, practising ties or reading than trying to find the person I could be interested in sexually.

If it happens, though, it happens. I’ll keep you informed.