When a Mask is not a Mask

 There is a term associated with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) known as masking. It is used to “describe behaviours used by people with ASD to suppress or hide the signature characteristics of the disorder. It can also mean mirroring the behaviour of neurotypical people and developing ‘scripts’ that work in social situations.” (1)

In short, masking in an ASD context is a type of personality camouflage donned by the autistic person to fool the outside world into thinking that they are “normal” and able to fit in. You might not even know some of the people in your life who mask regularly and, if they have done their job properly, they might even be the last person you would ever suspect of such behaviour. Kudos to them, and also my sympathies. More on this below.

If you suspect yourself of masking, you might identify with “hyper-vigilance for and constant adaptation to the preferences and expectations (whether expressed, implied or anticipated) of the people around you [and] tightly controlling and adjusting how you express yourself (including your needs, preferences, opinions, interests, personality, mannerisms and appearance) based on the real or anticipated reactions of others, both in the moment and over time.”(2)

If you have ever thought of yourself as a social chameleon of sorts, able to quickly fit in with many different social groups, cliques back in high school, or situations that vary greatly in terms of manner of speaking, vocabulary, pop culture references, and so on, then you know exactly what I am talking about. It’s a bit of a superpower, but it is also exhausting. Constantly aware of how others might be reacting to what you say and do, you spend enormous amounts of energy adapting yourself to the outside world rather than being your authentic self for fear of being labelled a weirdo or, even worse, not getting what you want…or need. It is commonly understood that people with light to mild ASD are the most able to mask, while those on the more extreme end of the autism spectrum (non-verbal, etc.) simply don’t have the ability to act in a manner that is in any way considered normal for a neurotypical person.

Masking in a fetish sense should be fairly apparent if you have ever read Fetish Dynasty Magazine. The pages are filled with women in masks and is a central theme to the publication. The term mask and hood (more common) are used interchangeably in the kink world, but I will use mask throughout for consistency, and focus on latex masks in particular. 

Masks are somewhat of a polarizing topic in the latex fetish scene, with some kinksters being totally obsessed with them (yours truly) and others finding them detestable. Find me a popular online female fetish personality who posts photos of themselves in and out of a mask, and I will find you plenty of comments for and against both manners of dress. From “You’re so pretty, it’s shame to hide your beauty under a mask,” to “You are so gorgeous, a mask would just enhance your beauty even further!” Regardless of where you stand, you can’t deny the mysterious and kinky aspect to masks and the visceral reaction they provoke when worn properly (remember, tight is right).

For the aficionado, masks accomplish a few things. When worn fashionably (as opposed to being worn as a form of objectification or sensory deprivation) they typically only reveal the eyes and mouth, thereby focussing attention on those features. Because one’s expressions are mainly communicated through these features, the mask amplifies them and can have a hypnotic effect on the admirer. The lips are also made to protrude slightly due to the tight latex surrounding them (who needs filler?) which even further enhances the attractiveness of the wearer. The smooth, sleek head shape adds an almost alien-like aspect and further increases the mystery. In addition (and this is more for the wearer), the physical sensation of the mask on the face can create a sense of security, especially if you have Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD) manifesting in the need for feeling tightness or compression on your body.(3)

Here is where things start to get interesting. When you wear a mask, you become anonymous to anyone who does not know who you already are. (4) It can be difficult to grasp this if you are going out in public for the first time, but as someone who regularly wears latex amongst the muggles, I can assure you that no one has any idea of who you are if you are masked (though they might be quite curious). But if no one can know who you are, there is no longer the need to pretend to be someone you are not. The latex mask masks the need to mask your personality. You can just be yourself, because what could be weirder than wearing a latex mask? You relieve yourself of the need to “fit in” and force the outside world to adapt to you, rather than the other way around. 

In the end, kink is all about turning ideas, morals, conventions, and taboos on their head and redefining their meaning on your terms. You can use the pretext of kink and its tenets of negotiation, consent, and communication to overcome inhibitions and enjoy things that would otherwise be unpleasant at best and traumatic at worst. In this way, latex masks for the neurodivergent fetishist can be a tremendously liberating and exciting form of play.

Because sometimes it isn’t until we put on a mask that we reveal who we truly are.

This article originally appeared in Fetish Dynasty Magazine Issue 9 available on MagCloud

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1. https://www.henryford.com/blog/2023/04/autism-masking 

2. https://www.autism.org.uk/advice-and-guidance/topics/behaviour/masking

3. You can also have SPD and want the exact opposite…probably not the best thing for wearing latex in general

4. I have actually had experiences where people didn’t recognize me at a fetish event until I put my mask on

Objectification vs. Humiliation/Degradation

The terms humiliation, degradation and objectification are often used in BDSM to describe types of play between dominants and submissives. It does seem to be the case, unfortunately, that these terms are used interchangeably. More specifically, objectification is often lumped together with humiliation and degradation. But there are some significant differences between all three, and even more so between the first and the last two, respectively.

Humiliation can be described as play where the submissive consents to being treated in a way that would seemingly elicit feelings embarrassment, or is put in a compromising position. Examples of this would be a male submissive who is not a cross-dresser or sissy being “forced” to dress in women’s clothes, or a submissive being made to do something embarrassing in public. 

Degradation, by contrast, is play where the submissive is treated in a manner which demeans them. Examples of this would be the dominant forcing the submissive to lick the bottom of a pair of boots, or being made to perform an act that would normally be “beneath” the submissive or a typical person. Verbal engagement is very important in degradation play, with the dominant often reinforcing the degradation with statements like “Lick that boot, you worm,” or “You’re nothing but a worthless, pathetic loser.” Sometimes the degradation can be 100% verbal and not involve any accompanying acts whatsoever. 

Objectification, by contrast, is play where the submissive is treated in a manner that disregards their humanity (or ignores it entirely) and reduces their purpose to something specific or functional. Examples of this would be a rubberized submissive being bound and used as a “sex toy” or a gimp fulfilling a role as a human chair or a drinks tray.

It’s critical to recognize that an element of shame can find its way into all three forms of play, but only with humiliation and degradation is this emotion something to be expected or even amplified by the dominant through verbal or other means. 

Problems arise, however, when a dominant conflates humiliation/degradation and objectification. Of course, if a submissive enjoys all three at once then all is well, but, for many submissives, objectification by itself is not humiliating or degrading in any way. There does not necessarily need to be shame in being a drinks tray, or a human fuck doll. It is simply the fulfillment of a specific function. In fact, many objectification fans are proud to serve as an object for their dominant and do their best to perform with excellence. 

Verbal degradation or being humiliated can be a severe trigger for people that have undergone abuse in their kink or vanilla lives, especially the psychological kind, and both the dominant and submissive absolutely must be aware of these triggers and avoid them. For example, when a dominant is playing with a submissive that enjoys being objectified, and the dominant throws in some degradation or humiliation (thinking that they are all basically the same thing), the submissive may be triggered by this. The result can be quite upsetting and even potentially damaging. Imagine the dominant’s confusion when a submissive reacts negatively to being degraded while they are, at the same time, being used as a chair. If you understand the distinction between degradation and objectification, you have no problem understanding the consternation of the submissive.

Another way of looking at it is to consider the following: the only reason humiliation and degradation has any effect is because the dominant is treating the submissive as a person (be they a lowly worm or worse). The kink here is the perversion of the normally undesirable situation for the submissive of being in a humiliating or degrading scenario and the power exchange that occurs as a result. Unless you enjoy sexual power exchange, you won’t “get it” at all. But for those that do enjoy it, it’s all good. For objectification fans, however, the kink factor is that the humanity of the submissive is ignored. They are not being treated as a person, with feelings and pride and propriety to be fucked with. They are being treated as an object, and thus feelings and propriety are not a factor.

With all this being said, if you are confused by the distinction between humiliation/degradation and objectification, imagine your toaster. It exists to make toast. Would you, while you are making toast, talk at the toaster and subject it to phrases such as “Come on and toast that bread, you worthless piece of metal crap,” or “What’s taking you so long??? Hurry up and toast that bread, you pathetic home appliance”? Probably not, though I have no doubt that a few toasters have undergone verbal degradation during their stoic bread-browning duty. Check out season one of the classic sci-fi series “Red Dwarf” for some examples. Sassiest toaster ever.

Similarly, if your submissive enjoys objectification - but not humiliation or degradation - would you shout at them while they were performing admirably as a sushi table? One would hope not.

Now, it must be stated that, in all forms of play, consent is mandatory, and a thorough discussion of limits, triggers and desires is crucial to having a fun time. The scenarios described above assume that the people involved have talked in great length about their kinks and agree in advance to the kinds of treatment that the submissive will receive. At any point, regardless of the consent given beforehand, if the submissive or dominant is not comfortable, the safe word or some other indication that the play needs to pause should be used.

The bottom line is that one should be aware of these distinctions and hone in on one’s desires, limits and triggers accordingly. When learning how to play with someone new, make sure to highlight these distinctions and not tolerate any transgressions. 

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This article originally appeared in Fetish Dynasty Magazine Issue 8 available on MagCloud

Reflections on the 2022 Vancouver Fetish Weekend

Sun. Sweat. Sexiness. Rubber. Fun. Friendship. 

Sweat. 

Did I mention sweat? Maybe that's just me.

This is the Vancouver Fetish Weekend in a nutshell. I am still decompressing after an absolutely phenomenal weekend. Once again, Vancouver weather absolutely came through (I can't actually remember a VFW with crappy weather) and after a three-year hiatus, the event proved itself worthy of belonging on the international fetish event calendar.

Starting with the Thursday night meet and greet, I got dressed up in my leather catsuit that I made last October and have only worn one time since (Halloween). It's such a different vibe in leather. Equally as hot in latex, but you notice the sweat more. The leather gets wet and you can tell. With latex the material is so tight on your skin that you can't really tell the fabric from your own body...except the sweat that pours out of every crease and opening (for me, anyway).

It was so great to see a bunch of people I hadn't connected with in years, including Observer and playfulrubberdoll and a host of others. It's hard to fathom the amount of time that the pandemic occupied and ruined in terms of social interaction, and I carried with me the appreciation for personal contact throughout the weekend. 

Friday night at the Imperial was fairly typical in terms of the vibe (it's the home of the monthly Sin City fetish nights) but what made it special was being at my first fetish night with Mistress Miko. It felt so good to be on Her leash and we spent the evening relaxing and enjoying the occasional conversation and some play in between observing the other kinksters strutting around in their finery. 

I skipped the Saturday photo walk and instead arrived at Mistress Miko's hotel room early to help set up for a shiny gathering of some sexy rubberist friends. After getting rubberized, the guests showed up and we enjoyed some time in conversation and taking photos. 

What a delicious crew!

We headed to the venue by foot (it was only 5 minutes away) and were impressed with the space. It's a huge room with an amazing stage and sound system. It could have easily fit another thousand people in there, though that would have been a bit much. I wore my pony gear for part of the night and, despite modifications to my Punitive Shoes pony boots, I was only able to last around 30 minutes before tapping out from exhaustion and leg soreness (and to allow Mistress Miko to enjoy Her evening instead of caretaking a semi-crippled human pony). I am still stiff. I'll need to find some more sensible pony shoes for club nights. After we left late, Her and I adjourned to Her hotel room and talked until 5:30 am. I drove home as the sun came up and noted how rare it was that I had the sun in my eyes when driving East. 

After another night of not enough sleep, I woke up and prepared for the Sunday Fetish Cruise. Always a winner of an event, I couldn't wait to get out on the water in latex surrounded by amazing weirdos and fantastic music. We boarded and spent the next three hours conversing, dancing, observing, playing, flirting and just in awe at the surroundings and situation. If you only go to one event at VFW, make it the cruise. It is not to be missed! I experience being an ashtray for the first time (actually having the cigar ashed in my mouth and being put out on my tongue). It wasn't nearly as gross as I thought it would be (was really no big deal!) and I looked forward to doing it again. I won't lie, but it helped to be clamped and gagged and facing a beautiful Mistress in latex while it happened. I know. Shocker.

Overall the weekend was a great success, and I have to throw massive kudos to Isaac and Trish for putting it together in only five months. A monumental effort and something they make look easy time after time. 

This year was also the first VFW that I experienced as a local. I moved to Vancouver with my family in the summer of 2020 but, due to Covid, the 2020 and 2021 editions were cancelled. It was super nice to sleep in my own bed every night and save an absolute shit tonne of money in hotels. Vancouver is hideously expensive to visit in the summer months and I truly admire and appreciate the out-of-towners who made the effort to join us!

As always, I made some new friends, and I think this is the true legacy of big parties like this. Some people you see over and over at fetish events, and then one day you chat and realize that you have so much in common. It happens organically in most cases, and the community that arises out of our shared love of latex, hedonism, playfulness, respect, openness, and depravity keeps us together even when we are apart.

We are all seeking (whether consciously or not) connection – a bond with others that gives us the strength to share our true selves and express our deepest, most taboo natures. This is what the fetish community fosters and what we all need to protect. Congregating in large numbers and celebrating our kinks is one of the most enjoyable things we can do. We all have something special to offer and knowing that we can all absolutely rock our magic without judgement is just so fucking amazing.

On a personal level (and without getting into too much detail), I relished in the confidence I have been able to build since the winter and the freedom that comes with realizing one's self-worth and not selling one's self out. There are people who will try to use and manipulate you and, if you let them, they will take everything. Fuck those people. You deserve better.

See you in 2023, but hopefully sooner!

On wearing latex in public

Wearing latex in public is one of my favourite things to do. It’s an exciting and titillating way to wear rubber and something I have done on a number of occasions around the world. And when I say wearing latex, I mean head-to-toe, total coverage. Catsuit, hoods, gloves, the whole enchilada. 

I know lots of other kinksters and fetishists who enjoy this as well, and there are few things as fun as a bunch of us gearing up and going out into public, usually downtown in a major city. Sometimes there is an occasion, such as the Montreal Fetish Weekend’s Photo Walk (an absolute blast, but make sure you are prepared for high heat and humidity), and the Vancouver Fetish Weekend Fetish Cruise. There’s no hiding fetish outfits under baggy clothing, no change room once you are inside the club. It’s all out in the open, front and center. Anonymity is basically guaranteed if you are wearing a hood. Once you realize that no one outside of your fetish friends has a clue who you are, you tend to relax and really enjoy it.

I have been walked around on a leash as well - collared, cuffed and coming to heel to my Mistress or whoever is leading me along. It’s super exciting and really appeals to my submissive nature. I love to observe the expressions of the public and passers-by who often don’t even seem to notice. In my experience, there are three main types of reactions:

1. The Tunnel Vision - these people have no reaction, and don’t even look. Whether they are avoiding looking or are literally so absorbed in their world that they don’t even see it, who knows. 
2. The Double Take - these people notice and look and casually glance away before jerking their heads and staring. It takes a second for their brains to register something truly odd and then literally do a double-take, like in cartoons.
3. The High Five - These people are the best. They are very vocal and supportive and immediately express their delight at our appearance and sometimes ask if they can have their photo taken. It’s super fun and reassuring. It all adds up to a life less ordinary and many people absolutely love that.

I have almost never been cat-called or ridiculed or verbally abused when all dressed up. I definitely make sure that I only go out in public in my gear in environments where I know there will be general acceptance (waltzing into a shitkicker bar in rural Texas is probably never going to happen), but I am still amazed at how few times I have had a bad experience.

I’ve gone into restaurants on a leash and have spent the meal kneeling at the table beside my Mistress and waiting for permission to eat or drink. In every single instance, the wait staff have been hugely supportive and have expressed their delight at the scenario. Only once has anyone asked me to tone it down, and this was in a nice lunch spot in Long Beach, California, where the manager came up to us and said they we were making some of the other patrons uncomfortable and requested that I take my hood off and sit at the table. I of course complied. Our server turned out to be kinky and we had a blast talking about bondage and rope. 

There are, however, people in the fetish scene that frown heavily on latex in public, and make the claim that, by wearing latex and fetish clothing in public (especially when on a leash or in gimp gear), I am violating the public’s consent by involuntarily including them in sexual play. I disagree with this perspective, mainly because I don’t think that anyone outside of the scene who doesn’t have a fetish for latex relates my appearance to something sexual. If you don’t fetishize something, then you have absolutely no clue why someone else would associate sexual pleasure from its appearance or by putting it on. Take feet, for example. I have absolutely no bloody clue why someone would find feet sexually arousing. I just don’t get it. At all. Yet there are those who are totally obsessed and turned on by feet, and spend their whole lives worshipping them, fantasizing about being given foot jobs and looking at photos. For me, feet are just parts of the human body that allow bipedal locomotion, and it isn’t until someone puts on sexy shoes or boots do things get interesting. The tighter and shinier, the better, of course. 

To me, this disapproval is an indication of the shame that the critic has about their own sexuality. They are uncomfortable with it, clearly, and can only imagine this kind of thing in the privacy of their own home or in a club at a fetish night. Their inability (or refusal) to see these antics as innocent fun is telling. I know people who are concerned by children seeing this kind of thing, but I would remind them that if you are taking your young child out in a major metropolitan downtown core, those kids are going to be exposed to far more traumatic things than a man in a gimp suit. They will see the homeless, the insane, the drunks, all manner of loud and boisterous individuals who are potentially dangerous, least of all disturbing.

I might appear like a superhero to them, for all I know, and I must state that I am fully clothed at all times. There is no nudity, no exposed genitalia. While I am, without a doubt, dressed in a very odd fashion, there is nothing obscene about it. How does my attire differ from someone in a wetsuit? There is an equal amount of skin showing. 

And who knows, perhaps me being out with a beautiful woman similarly dressed in latex is the trigger for some young person who is hard-wired to be a fetishist but has never been exposed to it before. I just hope that this young person isn’t shamed into hiding it and denying their passions and obsessions. Whether you like them or not, they are there, and the healthier and more accepting we are about them, the better. It is doing no one any harm.

As a father of a boy who is only a couple years away from puberty, I can relate to the shame aspect and find myself becoming very uncomfortable at just the thought of a part of my kink life spilling over into my home life. But I remind myself that this shame has nothing to do with anything but my own childhood shame about my sexuality and the conflict that arises whenever the two worlds collide. I like to keep things separate but I also realize that he is going to be exposed to a lot of things in his life that he doesn’t understand. It is my job as a parent to shepherd him through his early years and explain things as best I can. If he sees something and has questions, I will answer them truthfully and in a manner appropriate to where he is in that moment. 

But what I won’t do is express my disdain or disapproval in front of him at someone out in public who is doing no one any harm and doing nothing illegal. He can form his own opinions and ask me whatever questions he likes, which is what every parent should do. What are your thoughts? Please comment below. 

Visiting Anna Rose for fetishclinic.com

Recently I had the absolute pleasure of visiting Anna Rose at her dungeon to film some clips for FetishClinic.com. To my delight, I had discovered she lived only a few hours’ drive from me and I immediately reached out to her to inquire about her dungeon. After a few weeks of friendly chats, we scheduled a weekend and I crossed the border to go see her.

I arrived at her house, and was warmly welcomed by Anna. Once I had loaded my gear into the house, we poured a drink and chatted for a bit on her deck overlooking the ocean. The view was spectacular and the weather was perfect (a rarity in our part of the world for May).

Once we had finished our drinks, she led me downstairs to the dungeon. I knew even as I walked down the stairs that this was going to be something special. The smell of latex that filled my nostrils as I entered the main area invoked feelings of intense pleasure and anticipation. I then found myself surrounded by the most amazing bondage and fetish gear I have ever seen. My eyes could barely process what I was seeing as I took in the many, many rubber and steel contraptions, equipment, masks, restraints, gags, tubes, hoses, rubber clothes and all manner of kinky apparatus. This must be what Heaven looks like for a rubber and bondage fetishist, I thought. Checking to make sure I hadn’t died and gone to the perverted afterlife, I was shown a secondary room with even more equipment, including the bed I would be sleeping in for the next two nights. Imagine that - sleeping surrounded by the most amazing kink equipment you have ever seen, breathing in the sweet ambrosia of rubber, staring at the device you would be put into the next day for some rubber torment.

We eventually went back upstairs to drink some wine. We went to bed feeling no pain.

The next morning I woke up in the dungeon, at first wondering if I was dreaming, but then remembering the reason I was there. My cock grew in my cage and I got up to have a shower and say good morning. After some coffee and a discussion on what she had planned, I started to get dressed in my gimp gear and she got ready as well.

I must say a huge thanks to @tinyhandstacoma (Twitter) for filming. He did a great job and all of the screen caps that follow are taken from his footage. 

When it was time to film, I sat down in a Style Fetish bondage chair wearing my steel ball mitts and Punitive Shoes pony boots. Anna locked my ankles and wrists to the frame and cinched me back using three seat belt restraints. My thighs were similarly strapped down. I was not going anywhere.

She strapped a steel tongue depressor bit gag deep into my mouth and immediately drool started to flow. Added to the pre-cum already dripping from my chastity cage, my saliva made a bit of a mess. Gimps can be that way.

She unzipped my nipples and teased them for a few minutes, striking them with her crop before clamping them with the clover clamps I had modified for extra bite. She expressed a small amount of shock at how tight they were. Not every day can you impress someone like Anna Rose! Taking a rubber cock that would eventually be used again in a similar fashion, she pushed it into my mouth over the steel bit and slowly fucked my mouth.

She had earlier stuffed my ass with another rubber cock attached to a fuck machine that came up from below. Taking the controller, she activated it and stood back as the device penetrated me relentlessly. 

After she had some fun with my predicament, it was time to change things up. She removed my chastity cage and replaced the steel bit gag with a Hot Steel Toys deep throat pony gag. This absolutely ingenious and diabolical device keeps a rubber dildo sitting just beyond the point where one starts to gag, and can be slid further into the throat using straps on either side. Effective, brutal, incredible. 

Taking a Hitachi, she vibed my cock, teasing me mercilessly while tugging on my nipple clamps. But this was just the beginning. She brought out a Tremblr and amped things up. She slid the sheath attachment over my cock and attached it to the slider that sat in front of my crotch. Hooking up the vacuum pump and turning it on, the sheath slid up and down on the rail, hands-free. She stood back and admired her work. The drool flowed.

Removing the deep throat trainer, she attached a latex face restraint to the rail over my head and slid it back, pinning my head to the neck bolster that prevented me from moving. As the rubber mesh pressed into my face, I felt whatever freedom I had remaining slip away. She then attached another fuck machine to the rail and adjusted it so that my mouth would be penetrated by the rubber cock she had attached to the machine.

Once she was satisfied, she activated the machine and forced me to perform a blowjob. In and out it went, pressing back into my throat, forcing my lips apart and leaving no doubt as to what I had become. My ass stuffed and throat penetrated by machines, I had been reduced to a rubber fuck object. 

After what seemed like hours of torment, she had decided that it was time to conclude the scene. Taking the Hitachi, she vibed my cock and edged me for an eternity. I begged to be allowed to cum and she eventually granted me permission. I felt the orgasm building and focused on the rubber cocks penetrating my mouth and ass and came hard and long. 

She removed my nipple clamps and left me there, panting and dripping. I was eventually released and we cleaned up. 

This was one of the most incredible sexual and kink scenes of my life and I am so grateful for the experience. Anna Rose is a legend, and her skill and equipment is only outmatched by how warm and fun she is. Her facility is absolutely world class and is operated by an elite Dominatrix. 

10/10 can recommend. Life is good, my friends. 

Make sure to watch for the clip on fetishclinic.com in the coming days! 

Consent is non-negotiable in BDSM play

There was a time in my life when I thought that the process of obtaining consent in a BDSM scene meant that I wouldn’t be able to have as much fun. I thought that negotiating a scene and talking about what I wanted to do and what the other person wanted to do was somehow removing the spontaneity of the interaction. I wanted to surprise my play partner with the many demented and perverted ideas I had decided on acting out for the scene. 

This attitude, of course, was full of pitfalls and opened the door wide for a potential violation of any consent I was given, and I unfortunately learned after one session that I had done just that. I found out about it a couple weeks later when she explained to me how uncomfortable she had felt during a part of the evening. I was completely shocked and horrified and spent the next couple years feeling absolutely sick about it. I eventually forgave myself and had decided right after it happened to never, ever allow something like that to happen again. 

So what of this idea that negotiating and consent is somehow taking away from some undefinable magic of a BDSM session? Even if you feel this way (and I intend to argue against why you should), it doesn’t matter. Regardless of how you feel, the person you are playing with needs to know the kinds of things that you, as the top, want to do. They need to know these things so they can tell you in advance if something is a trigger, or too scary, or beyond the scope of their limits. The mistake I made was thinking that this conversation took something away from the eventual performance, like peeking behind the curtain at a play. But it doesn’t have to be.

I liken the negotiation and gaining of consent before a BDSM scene to a server in a restaurant describing to you the various dishes in a chef’s plate meal. You are fully aware of what is coming, and can let the server know right away if there is something that you might find distasteful, or even if something might trigger an allergy. But does this in any way make the food less delicious? Of course not. There is still so much opportunity for mystery and surprise when you get the food. You know the type of dish and the ingredients, but how the chef (or in our case, the top) decides to combine these elements into something wonderful is totally an example of their talent and art in action. 

Plus, talking about the things you want to do or experience with each other before a session can be super fucking hot. It’s a form of foreplay, and a way to get the creative juices flowing. Often times the bottom will have ideas of their own to enhance the top’s plan or even surprise the top with wanting to take something even further. You’ll never know until you talk about it. 

Now, the people out there who intentionally violate consent or totally disregard its importance are just plain assholes. Or even worse, they are harmful. Mistakes happen and sometimes lines get crossed, and I think we should all try to cut someone some slack for something that was not intended (if there is clear remorse and an apology) but even this has its limits. Some infractions go too far, and ultimately it doesn’t matter how sorry someone is if they clearly violated someone’s consent and harm was done.

So, just get it into your head that negotiation and consent is absolutely mandatory and that you cannot play without it. Even people who have played together for years sometimes fuck up. Just because you think you know each other well, you can never assume that you can disregard proper negotiation. People change, limits change, nothing stays the same forever. 

So, become – and stay – safe, sane and consensual. And keep it sexy. 

What is a gimp?

A gimp can best be described as a sexual submissive who is dressed in a rubber or leather suit that covers the entire body, including the hands and head. Harnesses, gags, posture collars and other restrictive gear is often used to further objectify and subdue the gimp for its Mistress or Master.

A convenient phrase to understand the role of the gimp in BDSM is that all gimps are submissive, but not all submissives are gimps.

Gimps exist as servants, playthings and recipients of torment for their Dominant and must adhere to the 5 S's of Gimpitude:

1. Service - Gimps should always be of service and provide utility to their Dominant 
2. Suffering - Gimps are born to suffer and should offer their pain and discomfort to their Dominant as a gift to the Divine
3. Silence - Gimps should remain quiet unless their Dominant requires them to speak (a gag is often used to prevent noisy gimps from being heard)
4. Storage - When not in use, gimps are often stored away in a cage or box until it is time to "bring out the gimp" (immortalized in the classic scene from the movie Pulp Fiction)
5. Sex Toy - A gimp should always be prepared to be used as a sex toy – all gimp orifices are simply holes to be filled by the Dominant in whatever manner He or She chooses*

Gimps often have a sexual fetish for latex or leather, which helps the gimp to endure the discomfort and restriction of being in the gimp suit, but this fetish is not a requirement to be a gimp. It just makes it more exciting for the wearer.

Being a gimp is the most strenuous, physically-demanding submissive BDSM role that someone can experience, and the capacity to endure sweat, bondage, penetration, sensory-deprivation, physical labour, being used as furniture, and pain are attributes that make the top gimps renowned for their abilities.

A true gimp must not only embody all of the typical attributes of a sexual submissive, but must also do it with a strict code of dress, absolute obedience to their Dominant, and live a lifestyle that perpetuates its role in a D/s relationship. A gimp cannot exist without an Owner, just as a Dominant cannot exist without property. Well, they can, but it's like being called an actor without ever starring in a film or television show.

Being a gimp isn't about an occasional play scene with some latex or leather. True dedication must be shown in and out of the suit. The true gimp must learn how to make its own clothes, fashion its own gear, constantly work to perfect the bondage that it is to be put in, all with the advice and consent of its Dominant. The gimp must be prepared to heed Her or His call, be willing to push itself past its own limits, and always put its Dominant first. The gimp is an object, a possession, and is constantly reminded of this fact. It is led around on a leash, a sign that it is not free. 

The gimp's proper place is on its knees and at its Dominant's feet, completely attentive to Her or Him, ready to receive a command, or capable of kneeling there in place for hours while its Dominant occupies Her or His self or admires the well-behaved rubber creature in front of them. 

For the gimp, there is no better place to be. 

For more on this topic, and to sign up to a growing community of sexual submissives who identify as gimps, check out G.I.M.P. (Guardians of International Masochism and Perversion) at gimp.community  

*Proper negotiation and consent should always be obtained in all BDSM play, whether it involves being a gimp or otherwise. Play should be safe, sane and consensual and only performed by willing, capable participants of sound mind and body and of legal age of consent.