If you spend enough time in the kink world, you start to lose sight of what “outsiders” think when they hear about it. I find myself baffled by people’s responses of shock, dismay, and distaste for the things that have become “old hat” to me. My response to these reactions is always the same: unless the fetishist is disturbed by his/her own proclivities, we have no reason or right to judge. In fact, there is something absolutely stunning and beautiful about kink in its ability to provide pure, unadulterated pleasure to the participants. People who are lucky enough to be in touch with their sexual needs, and to receive whatever they desire, are capable of reaching a level of euphoria that some people can only dream about. As daily life begins to lose its luster, these sexual joys remain steadfast and reliable sources of ecstasy.
I once had a conversation with a friend of mine, who was attempting to describe the indescribable: how he felt when he was being humiliated to the point of feeling inhuman. For him, being brought to a point of pure, base worthlessness was absolutely erotic and fulfilling; something to cherish. Being treated like an insignificant speck of dirt made him feel empty and whole; desolate and transcendent – by being insignificant, he could reach a level of craving, hunger, passion, and yearning that I can’t even fathom.
Kink, for me, has yet to reach this realm – but I suspect that one day it will, which is why it continues to fascinate and arouse me. I sense that there is something about kink that strikes a chord, but I have yet to discover what it is and how to reach it. I’ve only been a BDSM practitioner for about two years, so I undoubtedly have a long way to go. For now, I am simply enjoying the thrill of experiencing little bits of everything, slowly shaping an identity that fits my erotic map.
