So here I am, Internet friends, at the crossroads of the kink world. If you’ve read my previous installments about my short-lived kinky adventures, keep on truckin’ (if not, read the other business). Basically, I’m in the middle of what I’d call kink purgatory, an odd place where ropes go unused and awesome kink thoughts lie dormant in that part of the brain that thinks covering someone in chocolate sauce is sexy. And I don’t like it!

Last time I really experienced a good kink adventure was with a girl who I never even came close to sleeping with. We were friends and both into kink, and she wanted to check out a sex dungeon or two. Believing our quest to be a long one, we agreed to practice with one another with no sex involved (she had some other dude in her life or whatever). So I tied her a bunch, derived quite a bit of satisfaction from it, and moved on (the pictures are still on my phone).

kinkster purgatory

Afterwards, I tried make friends with one particular sex dungeon, was put off by their attitude, and haven’t really had kinky times since. This was months ago.

First, I guess it’s my own personal error for not digging the sex dungeon. I’m sure the folks there are wonderful, but I think the necessity to dress in black leather and put on an air of dark sophistication (we’re different and scary!) is something I could never understand. That marked sense of difference has gotten me into useless arguments with kinksters before. Maybe I want to tie someone without also feeling like I’m doing something vastly different than my vanilla peers. It’s all sex, after all.

But it’s my personal failure, I guess, and I should do what I want, regardless of what kind of label culture foists upon my actions. The problem, though, is that kink may always be looked at as real different than vanilla sexy-times, and the kinksters have this paradox about them regarding this issue. On the one hand, they feel ostracized, but also they enjoy knowing they are challenging the norm, and this sometimes venn diagrams its way into other worlds of sexuality. We as a weird species have managed to make taboo a lot of things everyone wants to do. I for one enjoy vanilla sex, and try to keep myself from calling it “normal”, but to most folks it is normal. Everything else is outside the norm, and shouldn’t be.

Kink purgatory, or, wanting to do kink but without a viable way of doing so (for me, at least), makes me realize how silly the whole matter is. We talk and talk about it, but sex is still a big mess as far as culture is concerned. Alls I want to do is tie a girl up, but by wanting that I feel I have to enter a whole new realm of what many of my colleagues would call perversion, and real kinksters would call white bread (there’s so many levels to this!). Politics thinks it can control sex, and mainstream culture generally has no solid education as to how and when and why to have sex. People are going to have sex whether anyone wants them to or not, and the vast majority of people have a kink or two latent within their psyche. Even vanilla folks have trouble being sexually expressive; imagine having to enact a secret underworld for even the slightest shift in sexual desire. I’m convinced that if everyone could be a bit more open about their weird sex ideas, they’d cease to be weird, and maybe my kink purgatory would vanish. Or maybe the general public would have an education regarding sex equal to that of many kinksters, who really do appreciate knowledge and discourse in the matter.

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