It’s finally time to tackle those relationship questions with regards to the BDSM world! Welcome to the third installment of our Kink Sunday School. As always, for anonymous questions and/or observations, please refer to the surveys linked at the bottom of this post.

How can I find out which labels and roles best suit me?

As I said last week, you’re definitely free to explore and experiment. I actually encourage you to do so, and as you navigate the kink world (whether online or IRL) I guarantee that certain things will start to stand out much more than others.
But if you’re looking for help in deciding what to start searching for, I suggest taking this renowned BDSM Test. It’s very comprehensive, and rather thorough, so it’s sure to give you at least a few starting points.

How can I find the kinky partner of my dreams?

By being very, very lucky. And proactive. I tangentially addressed this in my introduction post (see Part 1 and Part 2), but it certainly bears repeating.
Just as any partner or relationship, your perfect match doesn’t just fall from the sky. You need to both figure out what you’re looking for and go out and find it. Of course since the list of people that you might consider having a relationship with is already slim due to constraints like gender, sexual preferences, age, availability, geography, and non sex-related interests, adding specific kinks or sexual philosophies to the mix doesn’t help. But it won’t necessarily hinder your search either. As I’ve already stated, I believe that sexual compatibility is fundamental in a romantic relationship, therefore having a good knowledge and experience of what you like and don’t like in that regard can actually help you weed out potential partners. Of course, there’s also the other side of the coin, where two people meet, fall in love, and only later start exploring and growing together in their sexual awareness.

In any case, a good place to start meeting kinksters is online. I’ve already mentioned Fetlife as a good starting place, but there’s other forums and communities and even many Facebook pages and groups you might look for. You can start with generic and international groups, but once you desire to move IRL you’ll have to start exploring your own local scene. If you’re a woman, be ready to weed through a lot of gross pick up attempts, justified by the fact that “if you’re here it must mean you want to fuck, and if you want to fuck you have to give me a chance”. Sadly, this is generally not a problem for men.

Among public events, the first step is usually a munch. This is a BDSM event usually held in a public venue and in your street clothes, where people go to meet, mingle and actually munch on something or grab a drink. It’s usually a very laid back affaire, with no play and no pressure of any kind: it’s meant to encourage interaction among people, not roles, although of course people looking for a partner will keep an eye out for anyone of interest. It’s basically like going to any bar, only you know that the people around you all have an interest in BDSM and should be amenable to striking up a conversation, if you approach them politely.
Depending on where the munch is held and how strict its privacy policy is, conversation will vary from general chit chat to specifically play-related discussions, with the chance that people might also take the opportunity to arrange the next play event. Since the majority of people don’t share their BDSM activities with immediate friends and family “I don’t know whether I’ll be able to come. I’ll keep you updated on that” is always an acceptable answer, even if someone’s still unsure whether they want to upgrade to play parties or not.

A play party is exactly what the name suggests: a party where BDSM play may take place.
In places where there are big, strong communities, clubs solely devoted to BDSM parties and activities might exists (or at least that sure seems the case in BDSM novels). Where I’m from, parties are usually held in swingers or gay clubs, specifically reserved for the night, or in historical villas or castles for special events. Swingers and gay clubs have the advantage of being already equipped with darkrooms and private corners, but that’s usually easily arrangeable in other settings, too. For BDSM events, of course, some kind of infrastructure is also required, ranging from St. Andrew’s crosses to gynecological tables. Some places also rent out basic spanking, flogging or whipping equipment for the night.
The success of a play party is only marginally dependent on organization. Like any other party, it’s the participants that make it or break it. On any given night, there might be a lot of play going on, or a lot of curious, undecided, and unpartnered people who were planning on only observing the action. In order to avoid a complete stall, organizers usually make sure that at least some partnered and experienced practitioners attend, either as performers or simply to make sure someone will play. An important detail to remember is that being at a party doesn’t imply an obligation to play, just like going to a club doesn’t oblige you to dance, especially not with anyone and over every song. But asking to play (or dance) is certainly not wrong. People should definitely feel free to interact and politely inquire about other people’s interests and willingness to play, but refusals should always be offered and taken with a modicum of dignity (if not grace, even).
Play parties and venues will always have very strict rules about consent and sometimes limit certain kinds of play due to possible legal liabilities. These rules are generally enforced by dungeon monitors, whose instructions and observations participants should always be mindful of. Due to all that’s been told about playing responsibly and not under the influence of any substance, drugs and alcohol should always be closely monitored and/or downright prohibited at play parties, but since they’re often also the sole source of income for the party (which pays for the locations and the infrastructure), don’t be surprised to find cash bars at a party. Partake moderately.

How do I go about meeting someone online?

This is another tricky and potentially long-winded topic and the answer actually depends on whether you already have experience with vanilla internet dating or not. And whether you’re male or female (and heterosexual, I guess: I have no experience with same-sex dating). I’ll try to keep it short, since the next question will be rather long as well.

There’s not much difference between vanilla and BDSM internet dating but the most obvious I’ve hinted at already. Since there’s a million vanilla dating apps and websites, people generally choose which one to join depending on its target: we all know which ones are more hookup-oriented, while others keep to a more traditional dating slant. With BDSM there’s far less choice (actually, none that I’m aware of, if you exclude the Q&A section on OKCupid), therefore people in desperate need for a partner will take any and all opportunities to connect with other kinksters on any BDSM platform as a chance to pick them up. Moreover, BDSM is sexual in nature, therefore if you’re on these platforms you must like sex and be available for hooking up. Or so they’ll want to believe.
Fetlife and all similar BDSM websites and boards are not, in and of themselves, hookup sites. You can definitely use them as such, but that’s not their primary purpose and, therefore, having a profile on these websites says nothing about a person’s disposition towards dating or casual hookups. As a matter of fact, it doesn’t even mean that they like sex more than the average person that’s not on those website, because almost everyone and their mothers like sex. Duh. As a result, hitting people up via private message with a “hey wassup, wanna grab coffee sometimes?” without any prior meaningful interaction (and possibly with no real info on your own profile) will almost never yield satisfactory results. Surprisingly, taking the “what are you doing here if you’re not down to fuck whoever propositions you?” route is even less effective. Go figure.
The solution is actually very simple. Chat people up, try to strike up meaningful conversations, find some common ground, be polite but upfront about your expectations (if you’re looking for friends, IRL meetings, fuck buddies, play partners, dating, etc.). It maybe time consuming, but I can assure you that assuming you’re owed anything just for saying “hello” won’t be any faster. This goes both ways, of course: no matter how many PMs you receive, if you feel like answering (not mandatory), be polite, firm, and upfront about your interest or lack thereof. Unfortunately, honesty and politeness aren’t a magic formula: the people you contact might still not be interested in what you’re offering, and the people who contact you and seemed interesting at one point might still disappoint. Know when to try harder and when to give up and move on. And when to use the block/silence feature.

Once meaningful contact has been established, the real question becomes if, when, and how to meet IRL. This is another issue over which the male and female experience tends to differ a lot, mostly on the grounds of the perceive risks involved in meeting face to face with a stranger who already knows stuff about you.
I remember once reading on a board discussing this issue that both a man and a woman had been asked ”what’s the worst thing that can happen when meeting someone you found online?” The man answered that the woman he was meeting might be too ugly. The woman answered that she might end up raped and murdered. As far as the question went, the woman gave the more appropriate answer: being raped and murdered is definitely worse than sharing a drink with an ugly person. Of course, it’s also an extreme evaluation of risks. Yes, people have been raped and murdered and some of these crimes have been perpetrated at first dates or by internet acquaintances, so it’s technically a possibility. But it’s not as common or preoccupying as it may seem, given how many women claim to be fearful about first meetings with online partners.
There’s still risks, though, which stem from the basic fact that you never really know who’s behind the profile you’re talking to, unless you’ve gone as far as to talk at length on the phone or, even better, on video. And this not only transcends gender but is probably much more of a risk for men than for women. Men may lie about who they are and what their intentions may be, but it’s very rare for someone who’s not a man to pose as one to chat a woman up, therefore the risks women run are more commonly related to the man’s motives and intentions. Behind a woman’s profile, instead, anything could happen and for a plethora of reasons, leading men to fall much more often pray to fake profiles, scams, and flakiness. This still doesn’t deter them and their risk perception seems to be generally much lower as they’re usually the first who ask to meet.
The lesson that should be taken away from all of this is that meeting IRL shouldn’t be considered as dangerous as women seem to assume but more than men think. Each of us should therefore take steps to make sure that they are meeting the person that they’ve gotten to know online and that if this turned up not to be the case getting away safely would be sufficiently easy. At the same time, the less fearful person shouldn’t resent the fact that their prospective acquaintance is mindful of their own safety. Meeting in public (or even at a community event such as a munch) and requiring at least some personal information are reasonable requests. Asking a stranger to provide very personal information as IDs or SSN is not (and might actually be a red flag for a scam).

I already have a relationship. How do I turn my partner into the kinkster of my dreams?

There’s a much longer consideration to be made in this regard, but the short answer is this: talk with them and figure it out together, but be mindful of the fact that becoming the kinkster of your dreams might not be something your partner is capable of or interested in.

As for the longer discussion, I can't stress these concepts enough.

That being said, the one and only rule in this scenario is open and honest communication. Talking about sex is hard AF, I know. Society has led us to believe that sex is a private thing that shouldn’t be an actual topic of conversation, and when it is, it should only be discussed in very general terms. Sex & the City tried to change that, but talking about sex with your besties still doesn’t solve issues at home (even though they might have some clever insight). I generally adhere to a very broad definition of consent, and therefore agree that it’s not appropriate to draw unwilling third parties into discussions about sex in general or your sex life in particular that might upset them. But if there’s one person that’s exempt from any kind of limitation regarding sex as a topic of discussion that’s the person your having sex with. Since it’s something you’re actually doing together, talking about it will definitely help things along.
Any path down a new sexual alley should therefore be discussed with one’s partner, at least once the partner wanting to explore and experiment has had a chance to roughly figure out what sounds interesting or what doesn’t. The other partner should be given time and resources to figure things out for themselves, and honest and open communication about each other’s desires and curiosities should ideally follow. Being excessively close-minded is never a good thing, therefore ideally the partner being brought into this should give it at least some serious consideration before refusing to even try it out. Unwillingness to even consider researching something that your partner feels would be a good addition to their sex life is quite an obvious sign of disinterest and/or incompatibility.

Nevertheless, three outcomes are possible, after broaching the subject of alternative sexuality with a partner:

• they’re cool with trying it out and once you give it a try you find out you’re both into it and keep going;
• they’re cool with trying it out but either of you realizes that’s not their thing;
• they are not interested in the least.

The first option, of course, is the most desirable, and they all kinked happily ever after. Options two and three are unfortunate, but still don’t make cheating ok: the fact that your current partner is not interested in the kinky stuff that gets you going is not a good enough excuse to look for kinkiness behind their back.
I’m stressing this point because on the scene you’ll find a lot of people in committed relationships who will sell you bullshit about them “needing” to keep this part of their lives from their committed partner “because they just don’t understand”. This is usually code for “they have no idea I’m into this stuff because I’m either too afraid to tell them or I’m not even ok with it in the first place and wouldn’t want them to get involved either”. Alternatively, they did find the courage to speak to them about it but found only a very firm refusal to even discuss the topic. This is a circumstance I’m willing to cut people some slack for: they came across kink later in life, they’ve tried talking about it, they’ve been thoroughly rebuffed, their committed relationship includes young children and/or financial entanglement, they’ve tried repressing their kinky interest but doing so indefinitely is not a viable option. That’s bound to be tough, so I’m personally on the fence about it. I don’t think I’d play with these people, anyways, but I do recognize they ended up in a difficult corner: YMMV.
Still, most people will belong to the first group and are you sure you want to put your physical, psychological or legal well-being into the hands of someone who’s not able to be honest with their long-time partner? What does that say about their ability to be honest with you?

Taking cheating out of the equation, what’s left? Either a negotiation about opening up the relationship and letting the kinkier partner find other people to play with (with or without romantic entanglement and/or sex, which are not mandatory for play) or break up.
I’m a big fan of Dan Savage and his Savage Love column and one of the things I learned from him is the idea that all relationships have a price of admission. Thinking that someone, out there, will be your 100% perfect match in everything is utopia. It you’re really lucky, you might find a 80 or 90%, while most fall around 75%. That 10, 20 or 25% that’s left out is your price of admission: those things you don’t like about your partner but put up with because you like everything else well enough. Uneven sexuality falls into this category. The vanilla partner will have to choose whether to accept their partner finding kink outside of the relationship is an acceptable price of admission or the kinky partner will have to decide whether giving up the chance of experimenting with outside partners is an acceptable price of admission. Neither will be inherently wrong for walking away, because each choice implies the other: if you can’t give up kink and I can’t accept you straying, we are both choosing to give up the relationship.
If you choose the middle ground and explore behind your partner’s back (i.e. cheat) you don’t get to play the “but I hid for our relationship’s sake” card.

There’s also an outlier option. You both start exploring, you both find out that you like what you’re discovering, but you also end up realizing that you have incompatible tastes. Maybe he’s into watersports and she’s into medical play. Or worse, you’re both attracted to the D or the s side, with no one willing to take the counter role (or at least not exclusively).
The end result doesn’t change much. You either agree to play with others or you don’t. The field might seem a little less uneven, since both partners may wish for a chance to play, but wishing to play might not trump issues of jealousy over their partner straying enough to make it worth it.

That’s it for today. Thanks for reading.