As much as I’m against hook-up apps as of late, there’s no denying that there are benefits in using them if you’re looking kinky sex. Many leather bars have become less about leather and S/M and more generic, leaving Recon and Craigslist as the leading options for meeting like-minded individuals. Problem is, BDSM requires far more trust than a vanilla hook-up. As a result, meeting a stranger online can be less than ideal for this type of sex.
I decided a while ago that in order for me to engage with someone, even if it was a one-off scene, a beer in public beforehand was mandatory so that we can negotiate the play and avoid ending up in a comprising situation. This doesn’t work for all men, which is fair, but when it comes to S/M, I’ve learned that I must trust my gut.
Take Edward for example. He was a leather daddy that I’d been chatting with on Recon for about a week. He was into “heavy” BDSM, although we never got into the specifics of what that actually meant. I soon gave him my phone number, and we began texting instead of chatting online. Over the next few days I learned that he lived in the countryside with his partner, they had a playroom in their basement, and he was an emergency room surgeon. He became a real person through our conversation, which made me feel far more comfortable.
The fact that he was a surgeon made me more cautious than usual. Of course there’s nothing wrong with a surgeon who happens to be kinky, but I’d chatted with another guy on Recon about a year ago who was also a surgeon. We had talk on the phone a few times and were supposed to meet up. He was hot and apparently very experienced. Then he told me that he couldn’t wait to meet so that he could “inspect my flesh.” It seemed like a strange thing to say—a little too strange. I asked a couple of friends and they agreed. Not that it was rocket science, but I trusted my gut and decided not meet up with him.
When I asked Edward if he’d be interested in a beer beforehand, he liked the idea. I suggested a pub down the street from my place, which I generally used for these sorts of encounters. It was important for me to maintain this rule, not only so I could feel trust and comfort with the other person, but it also allowed me to evaluate whether I liked them a human being. This isn’t to say that I want a relationship with him—far from it in fact—I just find that there’s nothing worse than having sex with someone then realizing that you can’t stand them as a human being. The beer makes sure that doesn’t happen.
Edward was more timid in person than I would’ve expected. He had this relaxed smile, making him seem sincere. After a bit of small talk he asked whether I’d already eaten, which I hadn’t, so he suggested we eat together. “Sure,” I said. This made me feel even more comfortable—I was sure he had no desire to “inspect my flesh.” I looked at the menu and decided on a chicken sandwich with fries. He ordered fish and chips and we agreed to share a pitcher of beer.
While we waited for our food he told me more about his work. “You must see some crazy things,” I said. “I can’t stand going to the ER as is, let alone trying to fix the people there.”
“It’s not for everyone,” he said, laughing. “I enjoy it though, and it’s nice to know that what I do helps people.”
“You’re lucky to have a job where you can contribute to society.”
After we finished dinner he finally asked what I enjoyed sexually. It wasn’t awkward or strange the way he brought it up. It was just another question like all the others before it. “It depends,” I said. “I do like to be bound. I also enjoy being roughed up—smacked, punched…I’m into a lot, but chemistry is important.” I grabbed the pitcher and divided the rest into our two glasses. “What do you like?” I asked.
“I enjoy having complete control. If I say something, I happens, no question, but within your limits of course. You could be bound; you could be gagged. And even though I’m a Sir, I like to suck cock and get fucked, so if I ask you to fuck me I expect that to happen—and it will only happen because I let you. Can you do that?”
“I can do whatever you want, Sir.” It may’ve been premature to call him “Sir,” but it felt right.
“Good boy.” He grabbed my hand—I was ready to jump him—or I guess him jump me because he was the Sir. “It’ll also important that we have a safe word,” he continued. “Or a way to let me know that you want it to stop because you will have a ball gag in your mouth sometimes and you won’t be able to speak. How does that sound?”
“Sounds good, Sir.”
Many complain that negotiating sex the way we did diminishes spontaneity, and in some ways it does. Once the negotiation is out of the way though, that’s when the fun begins. After we paid our bill, Edward turned to me and smiled. “What do you want to do now?”
I said, “Let’s go back to my place.”
By Mike Miksche Mike's work has appeared in Instinct, The Gay and Lesbian Review and Daily Xtra. His first novel, Paris Demands, is out now by Lethe Press.
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