BDSM’s Dirty Secret – The Real Risk of Kinky Sex

*As kinky folks, most of us have heard of the risks associated with certain
activities we like: rope cuts off circulation, bruises invite suspicion and
speculation, infected wounds or bites just plain suck and breath play can
flat out be deadly... but there's more.*
Kink and Sadomasochism come with a load of risks. The list is long enough
to make your eyes glaze over. But, I'm not here to trot out the usual
suspects. Yes, they're real and no, you shouldn't ignore them, but there's
another set of dangers that often go unmentioned. They are intrinsic to kink
and yet so potentially threatening to some that they do everything within
their power, subconsciously, to avoid them.

That danger inherent in SM is….

Intimacy and human connection.

Yes, intimacy.

Because, at some level, SM demands participants to be true to their desires
and hungers, vulnerabilities and savagery. Fully engaged kink insists on
full presence without pretense and willingness to connect the raw humanity
to another’s raw humanity. The elegant defenses and social rules of
appropriate behavior are built up by civilization and maintained in culture
to insulate ourselves from that dangerous primal state. SM, along with some
sports, is one of the few remaining semi-sanctioned arenas where the raw
emotions and connections are permitted and even celebrated. To engage in
this behavior may lead to a flood of emotions, elation and even risk failure
to achieve connection, with the added danger of feeling genuine loneliness.
It takes guts, skill and personal risk to fly high with another person.

This is a mighty scary proposition to some people.

But there’s a solution for people who can’t bear intimacy or potential
failure. Highly technical scenes with clear standards of tangible procedural
success can minimize the risk of messy emotional authenticity.

Over the years of I’ve been to more than a few dungeon parties – big and
small, public and underground, posh and sleazy. Usually the scenes I see
make me hot, but a few would leave me troubled, cold or deeply sad. Were
they too shocking or taboo for me? No. Were they technically incompetent?
No.

Instead, they were highly technical, well-executed and fascinating to watch.
Multiple floggers fly and spin, wowing the crowd, in a spectacular
choreography of Florentine flogging. Single tails and bull whips snap and
dance stunningly on the skin delivering subtle strokes and deep cuts. Ropes
wrap around limbs suspending flesh in complicated mid-air acrobatic poses.
We gather around for these and other skill intensive scenes to ooh and ahh.
But eventually I’d walk away, wondering why I was suddenly overcome by
sadness. As I step away, people get in line to be the next to bottom, as the
top processes yet another through an exquisite set of maneuvers.

I can’t shake the feeling that I’m not watching two people sharing an
experience, but rather two strangers having separate thrills over one
activity. The top feels satisfaction in displaying competence in a set of
measurable standards (The ropes go on. The person goes up. They come down
and they’re still in one piece), while the bottom gets to have a
self-contained experience delivered by a competent technician. The human
factor of the other person seems irrelevant in either case.

When I see this, it feels like SM is reduced to an amusement park ride, and
people choose if they’re the rider or ride operator. Or maybe it’s the
bungee jump. When I’ve gone bungee jumping, I looked for a service provider
with qualifications and a good reputation. I certainly didn’t expect, nor
want, any raw human connection with the dude strapping me in. I wanted him
out of my head and heart. I wanted a thrill and to be able to talk about it
to my friends. Maybe that’s what some people are seeking in their SM.

Recently someone came to talk to me about the suspension he did. Breathless
with excitement, he talked to me about the thrill of doing it. Never once
did he mention the other person he tied up. There was that sinking feeling
in my heart again.

The more difficult the technique is, the harder it is to establish that
human connection. But the more technical the play is, the easier it is to
visibly ascertain a level of success and external validation. Emotional and
mental states are, by nature, nebulous and not easy to determine success.
There can always be doubts if the other person flew as high as you did, or
if they flew at all. “Was it good for you?”

The greater the technical demand, the further at bay you keep the risk of
intimacy, vulnerability and disappointments. To experience emotional
connection in highly technical scenes is truly challenging. I’ve seen it
done and it’s hot, but their biggest expertise went well beyond the
complicated ties or whips. It was their willingness to be naked to the soul
with the other person. Sadly, the intangible emotional scene success seems
rarely celebrated as we’re distracted by flashy and tangible skill
standards.

Firmly establishing a set rules for play where disconnect is the norm in,
effect lowers the bar, guarantees and redefines success. Super difficult
techniques can protect the players from biggest risk of all in SM –
intimacy.

But if you play hard with nothing more than the most distilled, simple
techniques, with teeth bared, sweaty, breathy and entwined with your partner
as you expose your darkest desires to them, leaving you exhausted and elated
in one another’s arms, congratulations – you are truly a pleasure artist.


by Midori Published: August 15, 2011