I’ve always been kinky. I just didn’t know it.

Kinky Star Trek

Whips and chains and Captain Kirk

I dove into the world of BDSM about 17 years ago, and as I explored the things that turn me on I realized these were the same things that fascinated me as a child. Remember the original Star Trek? There was an episode in which Captain Kirk was whipped by an alien species. I was enthralled by this. I imagined myself being whipped, taking the pain and defying my torturers. Then there was the time I asked my dad to tie me up because I wanted to see if I could get loose. (I’d been reading Nancy Drew books in which our heroine got tied up, and I thought surely I would be able to escape if that happened to me.) I never connected these childhood fantasies with sex. The first few years of my sex life were completely vanilla, or so I thought.

But then I remembered Brian, and I realized this wasn’t entirely true.

Brian was fun and sexy, and the kind of guy that always seemed to get into trouble. We saw each other on and off my senior year of college, and had a great time in bed. It was purely vanilla stuff, except for one time. We were lying naked, talking and snuggling in the aftermath of sex, and he started tickling me. I tried to squirm away. He pinned me down and kept tickling me until I was shrieking with laughter and begging him to stop. I was gasping for breath by the time he had mercy. Before I could recover he rolled on top of me and I discovered that we were both incredibly turned on. We had sex again, giggling and passionate and deliciously hot. It never occurred to me that this might have been kinky. But now I look back and think here’s a guy who dominated and tortured me, and we were both aroused by it. That’s what we writers call foreshadowing.

Brian died not long after we graduated from college. I had moved away, and we hadn’t really stayed in touch, so I heard about it from a mutual friend a few months after the fact. I’ve always felt that there was something unfinished about that loss.

Last night I participated in a Rite of Release, a pagan ritual that takes place at Samhain (known more commonly as Halloween). The purpose of the ritual is to mourn those we have lost, and honor and remember the dead. Some of us wrote messages to the people we mourned, and those scraps of paper were thrown into the fire, sending them on to the next world. As I contemplated the people in my life that have died, I remembered Brian. So I wrote to him, thanking him for the laughter and pleasure he’d shared with me, and for my first kinky sex. Watching that scrap of paper burn, I felt that I’d finally been able to say goodbye.

So here’s to you, Brian. I miss you, and I’ll always remember that first innocently kinky experience.

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