Everyone has to start somewhere. For me it was very early and my memories of liking things that would have seemed strange to most kids go back a lonnnngggg way. Snapshots from the early development of my kinky self I now know to be fairly typical: wanting to be the subject of discipline in games; repeatedly looking up words like “spank” and “flog” in my dictionary; sneaking off to the toilets with a tube of deep heat; self spanking with a hairbrush and later with a riding crop I had cycled into the local town to acquire. My parents found the crop once and I was forced to invent a complicated lie involving a present for a horsey girlfriend whom I was no longer seeing. To this day I don’t know if they believed me though I imagine that accepting the lie would have been easier for them than trying to understand the truth. The point of listing these experiences is that I am convinced we are born kinky rather than have it thrust upon us by circumstance as 50 Shades of Grey wanted us to believe. I could no more choose to be 100% vanilla than a person born gay could choose to be 100% heterosexual.
This kinky self has been present all through my adult life, sometimes more insistently, sometimes less. For many years all I ever did about it was to indulge in somewhat unsatisfactory self-administered CP sessions until I finally summoned up the courage to see my first mistress in my thirties. I very nervously told her it was my first time and I had punishment fantasies that I would like to explore. Her response was to strap me down to a wooden stool and thrash me so hard that I was left with vivid purple bruises all over my backside that lasted a fortnight. It was quite an initiation. As I limped painfully out of her apartment she asked if I wanted to book another session.
“I need to decide if I enjoyed this one first” I replied.
“Oh, you’ll be back!” she said, becoming the first of several mistresses who, after knowing me for exactly 60 minutes, have looked deep into my soul in a way that would take a therapist months. This was also the first time I had experienced the glorious sense of exhilaration that can follow a CP session.
I fitted this new life around the old one and have been doing so ever since. I have visited mistresses in London, at the famous Pandora’s Box in New York and elsewhere. I have played with bondage, spanking, flogging, corporal punishment, nipple torture, CBT, anal and a few other kinks. More recently I have discovered switching and have hired professional submissives to explore that dynamic. If at home on my own and needing to scratch the kinky itch, I am still capable of returning to self-administered CP with any implement that comes to hand. But I am finally at ease with this part of myself and have created my social media alter ego, BibulousOne and now this blog, to give it an identity and to allow it out into the open.
We all have our own story: dominants and submissives; providers and clients; extroverts attending fetish clubs and introverts watching spanking videos at home. So long as it is safe, sane and consensual, none of what we do is weird, perverted, or a threat to society. It is OUR normal and we couldn’t be any other way if we tried.