Last Tuesday evening I went round to Charlie’s house. We hugged hello and he offered me a glass of wine. We sat on the sofa and chatted about our weeks. After about ten minutes, he took my wine glass and told me to bend over his knee, to pull up my dress and pull my panties down to my thighs. He spanked me very hard till my eyes were watering, and then checked with his fingers to see if I was – as he knew I would be – very very wet.
For a few hours we played with the kinks we know we are both into, then I went home to my partner, with a big smile on my face. I was full of that surge of happiness and gratitude that comes with knowing there are fun, chill, generous like-minded people out there, who like the things I do, and agree that doing them is extremely rewarding, but also… not a big deal.
Reimagining kink as a hobby
For me – and seemingly a lot of others – kink is a really excellent hobby. Just like any hobby – maybe you do it with your romantic partner(s); and maybe that has its own specialness. Like, cooking a meal with someone you’re romantically in love with is one thing, but that doesn’t mean you don’t like cooking delicious food with a friend, colleague, or on your own.
In fact, maybe your love of cooking authentic ramen cannot be enjoyed with your life-partner, because she’s just not into brothy noodles. You wouldn’t pressure her into eating it, and if you did it wouldn’t be fun for either of you. But should you go without ramen too?
For many people, their hobbies are one of the most important things in their lives. The home baker spending days on perfecting patisserie, the triathlon fan finding endorphins every Saturday morning pushing their body to the limit, the yogi saluting the sun each dawn. The people who are into something are often really into it.
It’s easy to make fun of, but they evangelise their hobbies because they have found something that helps them transcend the humdrum of existence, and feel different and better in some way. For many people, kink provides that experience.
Should you avoid a hobby that brings you joy, like a favorite kink, just because your romantic partner doesn't love it?
I think one of the reasons hobbies are great, is because you are doing them for their own sake. Within the hobby you might have serious and important goals, and want to improve, but you know deep down that your career or the health of your family does not depend upon it. I have found that considering kink in this way makes it a very low pressure activity. Hopefully there will be a lot of brilliant, transcendent encounters with amazing people, but if not, as long as no one gets hurt (ahem, in a bad way), does it really matter that much?
Of course, this requires a lot of communication with your partner(s). They need to be okay with you playing with someone else. If they are, then you can seek out a play partner just like you'd find someone to play pickup basketball with. Although, probably not using the same methods.
Finding other kinky hobbyists
I love the way that the OG sites like Fetlife, and the explosion of apps like Feeld, have enabled us to easily connect with people ‘kink-first’ – as in, what we’re doing here is looking for someone whose play desires correlate with our own. It's a lot more akin to finding people to play a sport with – someone who wants to do it the way you do, but might teach you something new along the way too.
It couldn’t be more different from traditional dating where every minute is often spent thinking "can I see myself living with this person, sharing all my hopes and dreams, maybe having children – or at least, not be driven insane by them after prolonged exposure?"
I think it’s also quite different to traditional hook-up dating – the original slutty versions of Tinder or Grindr – which emphasised meeting for casual sex, but did not emphasise what kind. So it was more like meeting someone you thought was cute at a club and going home with them. Nothing wrong with that at all. I’m a big fan of spur of the moment attraction ending up in a bed. Or a bathroom. But to me it's less thoughtful, considered, and evolved than being really specific up front about exactly what you’d like to offer and receive…. albeit with a "and very open to suggestions" caveat.
Sex means a million different things, and it’s so easy to get offended by the kinds that don't happen to work for you. That's why it's so important to seek out kink hobbyists who are into the same things as you.
To people not into pain-play, for example, it’s really hard to understand. The media constantly depicts people who like to receive or cause pain as damaged and broken (thanks 50 Shades). So if you’re dating someone in the traditional way, or you go home with someone, and you suggest they hurt you, chances are this won’t be received well.
To be honest, I can only get in the right sub-space, present trance-like state required if I trust someone’s experience. Otherwise I just worry they’ll take my eye out. And we’ve seen so much of the horrifying press about porn-watching straight men and boys assuming ALL women want to be choked. Assuming anyone likes the same things as you, or any specific practice, is a road to disaster, and I think that’s why such clear upfront communication, which is the norm in the kink community, makes life happier, easier and safer.
Kinky friends for life?
Charlie and I, it turns out, actually have quite a lot in common aside from mutually wanting me to kneel on his coffee table with my legs spread while he gets on with his work, ignoring me until he happens to want to use me. So maybe he will become a friend-friend too. I hope so.
Some people I met through kink 15 years ago are now the people I’m closest too, and we are as likely to hang out eating pizza as eating each other. It’s a cliché, but hobbies really are a brilliant way to make new friends.
Sonnet is the pseudonym of a businesswoman based in London and New York. Her memoir SUBMIT is available now from Hatchett Books.