30 Days of Kink: Day 3 and 4

Day 3: How did you discover you’re kinky?

Day 4: Any early experiences that, in retrospect, hint at your kinks? 

Combining these two as they will result in almost identical answers.

There are two answers to how I discovered I was kinky. I am still not entirely comfortable with the label “kinky”, but you already know my take on labels.

One, I always thought I was a little, well, different. I loved things like the damsel in distress themes in fantasy fiction. I thought it was disturbingly hot to see Fay Wray in chains in the ancient King Kong black and white (no, I’m not an old man…). Did everybody else think that was hot, as in sexually arousing? Well, I did and I knew I was weird because of it. Ah, the movie Dragonslayer – way too many subtexts to go into on that one. Possibly the first movie that combined my deep and abiding love for fantasy, and my nascent interest in the dirty. But Princess Elspeth. Sweet, noble, dark hair, beautiful…and in chains before the dragon. Um, yeah. I KNEW I wasn’t supposed to find that hot – but damn it was. Freak.

I remember watching the movie Splash and there was a backside shot of Daryl Hannah running on the beach. I remember thinking I wanted to smack her ass (and it was a great ass too). I think I was ten. 

Yeah…maybe that just means I was a heterosexual male. Who knows.

I remember watching Conan the Barbarian as a kid (probably not the best viewing for impressionable young minds, but I was a sneaky bastard), and loving the slavegirl subtexts at various points in that movie. Here is this movie, supposedly an action adventure and I am ogling the chicks. One track mind, even back then. So in a way, I’ve always known I was a little different, but I wouldn’t have even considered calling it “kinky”.

Now, “sick”? Maybe…

The second answer is that I really discovered I was kinky when I realized I wasn’t alone. Reading fiction helped a lot in this for me as a teenager. Lord did I read a lot of fiction – and you can guess what a lot of it was. I read everything I could find. I gradually realized that if people were writing this stuff, then that meant I wasn’t the only one reading it. I still thought I was a freak though. Then the internet came along and I of course devoured everything I could read – sexual or otherwise. That was the Aha! moment. There were literally thousands, maybe tens of thousands like me. Even better, I could see that though yes, I was a freak, that I was  way over on the mild end of the freak spectrum compared to others. You know that saying that somebody always has it worse? Yeah, others did. Does it make me a good person to think that? Not technically, but I felt better knowing I was less of a freak 🙂

There aren’t actually a lot of early experiences (i.e. childhood) that I can point to. I’m sure there must have been some, but I can’t remember anything that sticks out in my mind as being anything other than just kids being kids. Dang.

Now, there were experiences as an older teenager that were…but I don’t think I am going to share them here. Probably not appropriate for the thread. So, I will skip to young adulthood. I had a girlfriend (doesn’t everyone’s nasty stories start with “I had this girlfriend/boyfriend…”) who was the first person on Earth I let see what kind of filth I was reading. She not only didn’t freak out, she liked a lot of it. Score big points for GF!

Not only that, apparently I wasn’t the only one hiding the freak side. She came to my work one morning, and dragged me out to the parking lot. First she flashed me her tits right there  in the parking lot. I of course scolded her for trying to get me fired or arrested. She said fine “punish me for it.”

HOLY SHIT.

She had one of those thin, fine chains in her pocket for some reason and handed it to me. Then she told me to whip her with it. She then proceeded to bend over the hood of my car, wiggle her ass, and look back at me with this affected fearful expression. My, my the temptation to do it was visceral, overpowering.

The instinct to avoid jail was stronger, and Trent’s common sense prevailed – barely.

I told her I wanted to spank her before sex one night and she not only acquiesced but told me I should spank before we have sex every time. These are the times when it’s good to be Trent. I found later on that she liked pain during sex, and I realized (though wouldn’t yet admit it to myself) that I liked giving it. It didn’t work out with that girl, but after that I realized more fully who and what I was. More importantly, I realized that if I found the right woman, I could be who I really was. After that relationship, I have always incorporated some level of kink into things, depending on the woman involved.

But I will shut my mouth before I get myself into trouble. What about you? When did you realize you were kinky? Did you have any experiences that crystallized that fact for you?

Until Day 5.

Best,

Trent