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There’s a difference between telling someone you want to die inside them after the second date… and meaning it. But in the post-situationship, therapy-speak-saturated dating world, the line between radical vulnerability and emotional warfare can get slippery fast. Enter the confusion: Are they slime-loving? Or are they love bombing? Let’s dissect the goo. What’s the Difference Between Love Bombing and Slime Romance? First: What Even Is Love Bombing? Love bombing is when someone comes on too strong — not because they feel deeply, but because they want to control the narrative. It’s intense affection, constant attention, grand gestures, and hyper-early intimacy… all designed to disarm you. You’ll hear things like: “You’re everything I’ve ever looked for” (on date one) “No one has ever understood me like this” (after two voice notes) “Let’s move in together” (before you’ve even had sex) It’s not just enthusiasm — it’s strategic flooding. And once they have you hooked? The intensity often crashes into coldness, criticism, or ghosting. That’s the cycle. That’s the trauma. Love bombing feels like being worshipped by someone who doesn't really know you — and maybe doesn’t care to. And What Is Slime Romance? Slime romance, by contrast, is soft maximalism. It’s emotional goo. Think: radical honesty, too much sharing, plushies, wet eye contact, late-night DMs that feel like diary entries. It’s deeply felt, deeply weird, and (crucially) not manipulative. In slime love, you're not being drowned in affection — you're being invited to melt with them. It’s sticky and sentimental and chaotic, but it doesn’t hide anything. It doesn’t feel too good to be true. It feels uncomfortably real. Love Bombing vs. Slime Romance: The Key Differences Love Bombing Slime Romance Fast intensity designed to win you over Slow-burn goo made of real emotions Often comes with future-faking Stays present — messy, honest, here-now Praise feels generic Affection is oddly specific, deeply personal Sudden emotional withdrawal follows Emotional openness stays consistent (if awkward) Built on control, not connection Built on vulnerability, not performance You feel high, then confused You feel exposed, then closer How to Tell What You’re Dealing With Ask yourself: Does this feel like a performance or a confession? Are they mirroring me, or actually revealing themselves? Do they respect  my emotional pace, or try to outpace it? When I set a boundary, do they get weird — or soft? Do I feel seen, or idealized? Love bombing often feels like being placed on a pedestal you never asked for. Slime romance is getting into the muck together. It’s not about seduction — it’s about surrender. Not “I need you to feel complete,” but “I’m leaking, are you leaking too?” Why the Confusion? Because both love bombing and slime romance reject emotional minimalism. They both say things like: “I feel like I’ve known you forever” “You’re in my dreams already” “I miss you and it’s only been an hour” But context — and intention — matter. Slime lovers don’t drop those lines to own you. They drop them because they don’t know how to hold them in. There’s no agenda — just a lack of filter. One is a manipulation. The other is a mood disorder with good lighting. Can Slime Turn Toxic? Yes. Anything can. Sometimes slime lovers trauma-dump. Sometimes they mistake intensity for intimacy. Sometimes they dissolve so hard into each other that neither person can breathe. But it’s not about power. It’s about mess. And mess can be cleaned — or at least talked through. The red flag isn’t the emotion. It’s the intention behind the emotion. Love Bombing Demands. Slime Romance Offers. Slime romance won’t leave you wondering what you did wrong. It’s not a trap. It’s just weird. Emotional maximalism without the narcissism. A soft place to stick, not a cage to get stuck in. So if you’re trying to tell the difference: If it feels scripted, it probably is. If it feels slightly embarrassing but kind of beautiful? You might be in slime. And if they’re quoting Rumi on day two but  ask for your consent before trauma-sharing — you’re safe.

For an artist like Kid Simius — who’s as likely to cite a zombie movie as a musical scale, and who would bring a gazpacho to an island afterparty — summer isn't a season. It's a state of creative overflow. Fresh off the release of his new EP Gente de la Noche  on Permanent Vacation, the Granada-born, Berlin-based producer returns with more than just music: a hand-drawn comic book full of Balearic lore, DJ mythology, and surreal afterparty flashbacks. Kid Simius. Photo by: Daniel Paramio Kid Simius opens up about psilocybin microdosing, quitting alcohol, falling back in love with instruments, the comic-book process that unexpectedly shaped his EP, and why, despite everything, he’s still probably going to miss his flight. What kind of summer are you trying to have — one with SPF 50 and yoga retreats, barefoot raving and questionable cocktails, or something else entirely? Worldwide fitness studios with saunas, psilocybin microdosing, mocktails (I quit alcohol two years ago), and sunny open-air parties with great DJs. Also: music making and drawing. Sounds odd, but doing music as a job sometimes makes you forget why you love it. So I’ve started taking piano and guitar lessons again. Haha. It started when my therapist encouraged me to find a hobby outside of music and family... At first it was just a fun personal project, but weirdly, the stories I was drawing were all about clubbing, Ibiza, and the Balearic EP I was working on. Do you believe in summer flings, or is music your long-term relationship? The only way to find your long-term relationship is through summer flings.   What’s something your friends know about you that your fans definitely don’t? I love horror films – ghosts, possessions, zombies, all of it. Both the terrifying classics and the trashy ones where you don't know if its comedy or horror. I’d love to score a horror movie someday. If any horror directors are reading this, hit me up! “70% pre-party lifter, 20% post party stayer, 10% ghost and 10% zombie.”   Kid Simius. Photo by: Daniel Paramio You’re stranded at an afterparty on a remote island. You can only bring one synth, one snack, and one person. Who and what makes the cut? Korg M1 or Korg Electribe, gazpacho, and David Bowie or Grace Jones   Are you more of a pre-party lifter, post-party stayer, or a ghost who vanishes after your set?  Pre-party lifter with post-party tendencies. But I’m a ghost if I play a bad set or if the party’s no fun.   70% pre-party lifter, 20 % post party stayer, 10 % ghost and 10 % zombie.   Doing music as a job sometimes makes you forget why you love it. So I’ve started taking piano and guitar lessons again. Haha. What’s your “I’m too old for this” moment that still happens anyway? You know that moment when you have a late-night show and you think it’s a good idea to go to bed instead of going out, and end up getting 2-3 hours of sleep, then you set an alarm so you can hit the club feeling fresh and full of energy? Well, when that alarm goes off after just 2 hours of sleep, that’s the exact moment I realise I’m too old for this.   The same goes the other way around… when you stay at the party after the show and tell yourself, 'Okay, my flight or train is at this time, so if I go to bed in an hour I’ll still get 5 hours of sleep.' Then an hour passes and you think, 'Alright, if I go now, I’ll still get 4 hours,' and it keeps going like that… until the moment you say: fuck it, I’m going to the airport with no sleep.   But I’m a responsible person now.   Kid Simius. Photo by: Daniel Paramio   If your aura had a playlist, what would be track one and the 6am closer? Opening track: Morenas Hazme Soñar or Sueño Latino by Manuel Göttsching Closer:  Play Paul - Spaced Out or J-Lo " Una noche más" When you decide to skip going out after a late gig and instead sleep for 2–3 hours and set an alarm... That’s the exact moment I realise I’m too old for this. Do you believe in signs from the universe — or do you just trust in timing, chaos, and your booking agent? I believe in signs — in the form of impulses. People often talk about manifesting as if you're attracting things to you, drawing in what you want to happen. But for me, manifesting feels different. It's not about pulling things toward me — it's like I'm being pulled toward them . LOL.    It doesn’t matter where they are; I become a kind of human compass. I don’t overthink it — I just move, go, create, act.   What do you wish people asked you about more — and what question do you wish would disappear forever? I think  how I came up with my artist name could disappear forever. It’s been asked a thousand times.   I wish people ask me about more questions like the questions you are doing to me in this interview: Either funny questions, or really deep ones — the kind where the interviewer, through their reflections on things I’ve done instinctively, like my music, ends up helping me learn more about myself by the end of the interview than I knew before.   Kid Simius. Photo by: Daniel Paramio If you weren’t making music, what kind of mischief would you be up to instead? Be honest. Life coach? Street magician? Dog psychic? I’d either be hosting a tv show about paranormal activity – ghosts, possessions, that kind of thing – or a therapist for DJs and nightlife folks in Berlin, or care worker Or maybe I’d be a NBA superstar. Who knows?   This new comic + EP combo is so hot. Tell us more! It started when my therapist encouraged me to find a hobby outside of music and family. I remembered how much I loved manga as a kid, and the idea stuck. Then I went to Japan – and it all kicked again . I went to an art shop and told the woman there, 'I want to draw a manga. Please, give me everything I need.' At first it was just a fun personal project, but weirdly, the stories I was drawing were all about clubbing, Ibiza, and the Balearic EP I was working on. Then the drawings started inspiring the music – and vice versa. When I showed it to a friend (Because I was embarrassed to show them), she loved it. So I kept going and now I’m creating music and stories in parallel.   The first story I ever drew was called The Incredible Adventures of DJ Alfredo in Ibiza .   The idea for the Balearic EP came after Benjamin Fröhlich from Permanent Vacation told me he’d love to hear another Balearic record from me, like the one I did a couple of years ago.I thought, hmm, that’s not a bad idea... Suddenly, everything clicked into place. At that moment, I was drawing Balearic-themed mangas, so why not create a Balearic EP as well? To be honest, I was already in the mood to make something more vibey and emotional — not so much dancefloor-focused, but still inspired by the club atmosphere.   Which track on Gente de la Noche is your current obsession and why? Definitely " #TheIncredibleAdventuresOfDJAlfredoInIbiza ". It features samples from an interview I did with DJ Alfredo, the father of Balearic beat, when I had a radio show a few years ago. He passed away last December, so this track is my tribute to his legacy. The interview was beautiful and deeply inspiring. His love for music and DJing really resonated with me – he was like the Velvet Underground of DJs. Everything he said in that interview still echoes in how I approach music today. Gente de la Noche comic - Kid Simius Interview by: Amanda Sandström Beijer

It always starts the same. The music fades, the Uber's too bright, your skin is still buzzing. Maybe you’re back at someone’s flat. Maybe it’s someone you know. Maybe it’s someone you don’t. The night is blurring into morning and suddenly you’re naked, wrapped around another body that’s hot but far away. You want to come. You’re trying to come. But it’s not happening — again. And you know exactly why. When You Can’t Come Without a High: Chasing Orgasm After Clubbing The High That Took It With You Sex after MDMA is supposed to be euphoric. That’s half the myth — all touch, no thoughts, just bodies dissolving into each other. But that’s not always the reality. Sometimes it’s just a brutal anticlimax. Your mind says yes, but your body says: we’re offline. You’re present, you're aroused, you want  to climax. But the orgasm isn’t coming — because your dopamine already did. This is drug-induced anorgasmia. It's not niche. It's not even new. It just doesn’t get talked about because it feels like failure — a physical betrayal that undercuts the high. Science Says: Your Brain’s Tapped Out MDMA (and other club drugs like amphetamines, coke, even GHB) flood your brain with serotonin, dopamine, and norepinephrine — the neurotransmitters that regulate mood, arousal, pleasure. You feel invincible for a few hours. Everything’s hyperreal. But your brain can’t keep up with that pace. After the spike comes the slump. Once your neurotransmitters are depleted, orgasm becomes physiologically difficult — sometimes impossible. Your brain literally can't send the right signals to your body. The hardware's there, but the wiring's down. You’re just pressing buttons in the dark. For some, this crash lasts hours. For others, days. In heavy users, it can stretch longer — especially if mixed with antidepressants, which blunt dopamine sensitivity even further. Not Coming Feels Like Not Connecting There’s also the emotional side — the part that science doesn’t fully cover. When sex becomes part of the post-club ritual, orgasm feels like the full stop at the end of the night. A release, a connection, a return to your body after being lost in someone else’s BPMs. So when it doesn’t happen, it can feel like more than just a missed orgasm. It can feel like intimacy collapsing under the weight of chemical fallout. Some people feel ashamed. Others angry. Others just lie there, disconnected, faking the final act out of obligation or embarrassment. It’s not just your body that feels numb. It’s your entire sense of closeness. The Loop Is the Trap You start to associate pleasure with being high. Not just clubbing, but feeling. Not just dancing, but wanting. You chase connection on a chemical leash and lose the ability to come without it. Suddenly, sober sex feels flat. Real intimacy feels unreachable. Dopamine isn’t just a buzz anymore — it’s a requirement. This is how the loop builds: High → sex → failure → shame → crash → repeat. The problem is that it can  work — sometimes. You might get that one night where the chemistry aligns, where the MDMA lifts and the orgasm hits and the stars feel reachable. But those nights are rare. And the more you chase them, the more they slip into myth. So What Now? There’s no clean answer here. Some people stop using. Some take long breaks. Others learn how to separate sex from the high, or how to rebuild intimacy on different terms. Some keep chasing it, even knowing it might never fully deliver. What matters is acknowledging it — the way club culture intersects with body chemistry, the way nightlife can reshape desire. There’s no shame in the comedown. No weakness in not coming. Sometimes your body’s just trying to tell you something your mind hasn’t caught up to yet.

There’s the scene — the crescendo of it all. The sting, the surrender, the surrender to the sting. A perfectly tied bow of power and trust, looped in sweat and safe words. You come down from the ceiling, literally or not, and something in you goes, oh, that was everything . And then — 12 hours later, 24 if you're lucky — your brain caves in like wet plasterboard. Welcome to sub drop: the hormonal, emotional, sometimes existential crash that can hit after a BDSM scene, even a beautiful one. Sub Drop: What It Is, Why It Hits So Hard, and How to Recover If you've ever felt hollow, dizzy, clingy, weepy, furious, gross, numb, or like texting your Dom “are you mad at me?” for the eighth time in a row — you're not broken. You're just in sub drop. It’s not a weakness. It’s not a red flag. It’s not even always about them . It’s chemistry. Nervous system fallout. A full-body response to intensity — pleasure, pain, power play, surrender. Let’s talk about what it is, why it happens, and how to climb out without turning your leash into a noose. What Is Sub Drop, Really? Sub drop is the emotional and physiological comedown  after a BDSM scene, particularly for submissives — though Dom drop is real, too. Your body just spent hours pumping endorphins, adrenaline, dopamine — especially if pain, fear, restraint, or roleplay were involved. Once those chemicals drain out, you're left with the hormonal equivalent of a hangover. It’s your nervous system sobbing in the corner with smudged eyeliner and no one to hold it. Symptoms can include: Fatigue Mood swings Crying out of nowhere Overthinking (especially about the scene, or your partner) Feeling “used” or overly vulnerable Physical aches Needing constant reassurance Regret — even if the scene was consensual and positive A sudden craving for comfort, sugar, or… nothing at all You’re not weak. You’re human. You went deep. Now you have to surface. Why Sub Drop Can Feel Worse After Breakups or New Play Sub drop hits harder when: The scene was intense  (emotionally or physically) There wasn’t enough aftercare  (intentional or not) You’re new to kink , and your nervous system’s still adjusting You’re in a new dynamic , and don’t fully trust the person yet You just ended a BDSM relationship , and tried to solo-scene your way through the ache There’s unresolved trauma  lingering under the surface And in all honesty: sometimes we may use scenes to go numb. To override pain. To feel something other  than our regular lives. When that ends, the thing you didn’t want to feel comes roaring back — now wearing a collar and heels. Sub Drop: What It Is, Why It Hits So Hard, and How to Recover How to Recover from Sub Drop (Without Texting Your Ex-Dom) 1. Plan Your Aftercare in Advance Sub drop isn’t just an accident — it’s predictable. Plan your aftercare like you plan your scene. Comfy clothes (or none at all) Weighted blankets Stuffed animals (don’t laugh) Snacks — especially sweet things Water Music that doesn’t make you spiral A bath, a journal, a nap Give your post-scene self the same tenderness you give your tied-up, tear-streaked sub self. 2. Tell Your Play Partner It’s Real Before the scene even starts, say something like: “Hey, I tend to get intense sub drop. I might need some extra aftercare, or even a check-in tomorrow. Would that be okay?” The right Dom will not flinch. The right Dom will know drop is real and have a plan. If they don’t — drop them instead. 3. Don’t Rush Integration You don’t need to “understand” everything you felt during the scene immediately. You don’t need to analyze it to death. You don’t even need to make meaning yet. Just feel. Then write. Then rest. Your body will tell you what it needs to process — if you stop trying to shame it. 4. Have a Drop Buddy If you don’t want to call your scene partner, have a trusted friend who gets kink — or at least trauma, hormones, and intensity — who you can text or call. A simple “I’m dropping — just need someone to witness” can shift everything. 5. Do Not Panic Text The urge to ask, “Was that okay?” or “Do you still like me?” or “Did I do something wrong?” can be overwhelming. And valid. But take a beat. Are you seeking reassurance, or are you craving co-regulation that you forgot to build for yourself? Try writing the message, but don’t send it. Go for a walk. Read this article again.Then decide if it still needs to be said. 6. Normalize It With Yourself This is what happens when you play with power. With your own edges. With your nervous system. Drop is not dysfunction. It’s a sign you went somewhere real. You're not "too sensitive." You're a body in recovery from bliss and control. Let that be okay. Things That Feel Like Sub Drop But Aren’t When your Dom goes quiet for a day (maybe they’re decompressing too) When you feel “dirty” after intense play — that's shame talking, not truth When the scene triggers old wounds — that’s your inner child, not your partner When orgasm comedown hits harder than expected (hormones again, baby) Sub Drop Doesn’t Mean the Scene Was Bad This is huge. You can have a perfectly safe, consensual, hot as hell scene — and still feel like garbage after. This doesn’t mean you weren’t into it. It doesn’t mean you need to stop playing. It just means your body needs time to re-regulate. Give it that time. Gently. Sensually. You are not broken. You are integrating. You’re allowed to crash. You’re allowed to rebuild. The scene ended — but the care doesn’t have to.

There’s a strange kind of grief that follows a BDSM breakup. Not just heartbreak — un-collaring. The sudden absence of structure, rhythm, ritual. The quiet. The aftercare that doesn’t come. When someone’s been your Dom (or sub), they haven’t just been your partner — they’ve been your mirror, your handler, your safe word, your high. And when they go, it’s not just a relationship that ends. It’s a whole system. A choreography. A spell. So what happens when the person who used to bind your wrists is no longer in your bed — or your life? You build the scene yourself. Building Your First Solo Scene Post-Breakup Why Solo Scenes Matter (Especially Now) In the post-breakup haze, it’s tempting to go numb. To retreat. To erase the kink part of yourself like it was just a phase — like it only existed because of them. But your desire didn’t leave with them. Your submissiveness (or dominance) is still intact. So is your creativity. So is your capacity to drop into altered states, to play, to feel. Solo scenes let you reclaim your own erotic blueprint.They’re not a replacement for partnered play — they’re a ritual of reconnection. A way to remind yourself: I still know how to do this. I’m still allowed to want. I still belong to myself. Start With Grief (Not the Hitachi) Before you pull out the toys, pull out the truth. You’re probably sad. Maybe ragey. Maybe hollow. That’s real. Don’t bypass it. Don’t try to edge your way out of it. Let it bleed into the scene. Let it shape what you do. Some of the most powerful solo scenes aren’t sexy — they’re raw. Try this: Dress in the things they used to pick out for you — not to be performative, but to reclaim the feeling. Put on the music you used to scene to. Cry. Let your body move through whatever memories it needs to. Kink doesn’t need to be hot to be healing. Sometimes the power is in the grieving ritual — not the orgasm. Create a Container (Even If You’re Alone) Don’t just masturbate and cry — design a container. Give yourself a start and an end. Set the tone. Create structure. You’re not just “doing something freaky” — you’re tending to your psyche, your sex, your sense of control. Ideas: Opening Ritual : Light a candle. Speak your intention aloud. Write a note to your former Dom or sub, then burn it. Play a voice memo of them (then delete it). Middle : This could be self-bondage, mirror play, edging, or even putting on a collar just for you. The point is to explore sensation, memory, longing, control — but on your terms. Closing Ritual : Run a bath. Wrap yourself in a blanket. Journal. Do aftercare for yourself like it’s sacred — because it is. You don’t need someone else to validate the ritual. The ritual is the validation. Tools You Might Not Have Considered Mirror : Watching yourself submit to your own touch can be deeply powerful. Timer or playlist : Create boundaries and pace. A 30-minute playlist can hold you like a partner used to. Voice memos : Record your own dominant voice — give yourself orders, affirmations, instructions. Then play them back while blindfolded. Weighted blanket or bondage tape : For that delicious pressure, even when no one’s pinning you down. Scent cues : Smell can drop you into a scene fast . Use their cologne or your own. Let scent become a psychic trigger. Common Emotions (And How to Ride Them) Longing : Totally normal. Let it flow through. Don’t try to smother it with pleasure. Resentment : Use it. Spank it out. Yell at the pillow. Then soften. Shame : Remember — this kink was never just theirs . It lives in you . Pride : You’re doing this. Alone. That’s powerful. Honor that. Can You Drop Alone? Yes — and you might. You might even cry harder after solo play than you ever did after partnered scenes. That’s okay. Sub drop can happen after solo scenes too. Prepare for it: Hydrate. Cuddle something. Text a trusted friend, even if they’re not “in the scene.” Journal or voice note your experience. Eat something sweet. Sleep. And maybe most importantly: don’t shame yourself for the intensity. This is grief, intimacy, sensuality, memory, desire — all tangled together. Of course it’s overwhelming. You Can Still Be Kinky Without Them One of the hardest things about a BDSM breakup is believing your kink was real only with them. That no one else will ever understand your patterns, your rhythms, your triggers. But you’re not a kink orphan. You’re a kink phoenix. Each solo scene is a step toward reclaiming your pleasure. Your autonomy. Your sense of what’s possible — even if it’s just one candle, one rope, one sigh in the dark. You are not starting from scratch. You’re starting from self.

Berlin loves a surprise. But not this kind. There’s a special kind of arrogance in deciding what someone should have in their bloodstream without their consent. And yet, it’s common. Too common. In Berlin, in London, in every “free-spirited” party scene in the world, you’ll find people who think it’s cute, edgy, or “just part of the night” to slip a tab, powder, or drop into someone’s drink without telling them. Sometimes they call it “a gift.” Sometimes they call it “helping you loosen up.” Sometimes they don’t call it anything at all—because they know exactly what it is. It is a violation. It’s not a grey area. It’s not a misjudged joke. It’s non-consensual drugging—aka chemical assault. Whether you woke up in a stranger’s bed or made it home safe, the harm still happened. It’s Not a “Surprise Gift.” It’s a Violation. Let’s drop the euphemisms. It’s chemical assault. It’s drugging. It’s a crime. If someone puts a substance in your body without your consent, they have violated you. And depending on where you are, they may have committed a criminal offence that carries prison time. It’s Not a Grey Area People like to muddy the waters: “But they enjoyed it.” “Nothing bad happened.” “It’s just part of the scene.” None of that changes the fact. Under German law (and most countries’), non-consensual administration of drugs is illegal, even if nothing sexual happened afterwards. If sexual contact does follow, it crosses into the territory of sexual assault or rape. Berlin’s Strafgesetzbuch (StGB) — the criminal code — explicitly covers cases where someone is rendered vulnerable or incapacitated by substances they didn’t knowingly take. GHB in a drink is not “foreplay,” it’s evidence. The GHB “Cuddle Plan” And then there’s the GHB situation. Sometimes, it’s not about getting you unconscious—it’s about making you pliable. Some people genuinely believe dosing someone—especially with GHB—isn’t that bad if they don’t “go all the way.” Instead, they cuddle, stroke, or whisper, hoping the drug will soften resistance. This is not intimacy. This is calculated manipulation of another person’s physical and emotional state for your own gain.  They may convince themselves that they’re just initiating intimacy. But what they’re doing is chemically altering your ability to make a decision. It’s coercion wearing a soft blanket. One Berlin-based adult described it like this: “It felt like my body was being piloted by someone else’s intentions. I wasn’t passed out, but I wasn’t me. I couldn’t hold my own boundaries.” The “Surprise” Dose: When Friends Become Perpetrators This isn’t always the shadowy stranger at the bar. Sometimes it’s a friend. A flatmate. The person you’ve been dancing with for six hours. People you trust.  Friends who think a surprise tab will “fix your mood.” Lovers who think a microdose will “help you connect.” Scene darlings who “just wanted to share the love.” They’ll slip you a half-pill or a bump of something you didn’t agree to, because “you seemed tired” or “you needed it”. They’ll frame it as generosity, as if dosing someone without consent is a spiritual act of party communion. It’s not. It’s crossing your body’s boundaries without your permission. The fact that it comes wrapped in a rave-y smile doesn’t make it less of a violation. “In the Berlin scene, it’s so normalised that some people think it’s almost romantic. Like spiking your partner’s drink with MDMA is the same as buying them flowers.” It’s not romantic. It’s removing someone’s ability to choose their own reality. Why People Pretend This Isn’t Assault In party scenes that fetishise boundary-pushing, there’s a dangerous narrative: if it’s all “love,” it’s harmless. People hide behind “we’re all consenting adults here” as if consent magically transfers between bodies like glitter. It doesn’t. Consent must be informed, enthusiastic, and specific—especially when substances are involved. If you alter someone’s brain chemistry without asking, you’ve taken their consent away before anything sexual even happens. The Aftermath No One Talks About Sometimes the most disorienting part is that nothing “obviously bad” happened. Maybe you danced all night, came down safe, and woke up in your own bed. But the knowing—that someone decided what you should feel, think, and do—sticks. It erodes trust in friends, lovers, and the whole scene. And that’s before we even talk about the medical risks of mixing unknown substances or alcohol with GHB. It’s Not a “Surprise Gift.” It’s a Violation. Why It’s Never Okay Consent is specific. You can consent to being at a party, to kissing someone, to having a beer—without consenting to being on acid in the middle of it. You can’t consent retroactively. And you can’t assume consent because someone is your friend, your partner, or your playmate. There is no “vibe exception” in the law. If This Has Happened to You: A Survival Plan The moments and days after finding out you’ve been drugged can be a haze of anger, shame, confusion, and exhaustion. Here’s what you can do to regain control. 1. Get to Safety If you’re still under the influence and unsure what’s in your system, find a trusted friend, leave the environment, and—if needed—call emergency services (in Germany, 112  for medical emergencies). 2. Consider Medical Attention Go to a hospital or an emergency clinic. Ask about a drug screening as soon as possible—some substances, like GHB, leave your system within hours. A medical record can be crucial if you decide to report. 3. Decide Whether to Report Reporting can feel overwhelming, but know this: you have the right to involve the police. In Berlin, you can: Call 110  (police emergency) or visit your local police station. Bring a trusted friend or support worker. Ask for an English-speaking officer if needed. Request that they take your statement and preserve any medical evidence. Even if you’re unsure about pursuing charges, making a report creates an official record in case others come forward later. 4. Seek Emotional Support Being drugged is a violation that can leave you questioning your own memory, instincts, and community. Berlin has resources like: LARA  – Berlin’s Crisis and Counselling Centre for Women ( lara-berlin.de ) Berliner Krisendienst  – 24/7 crisis support, multilingual ( krisendienst.berlin ) 5. Reclaim Your Space It’s okay to cut people off. It’s okay to skip the party. It’s okay to make noise. “I thought if I stayed quiet, it would mean I’d moved on. But actually, speaking up was the only way I got my body back.” Why This Conversation Matters in Nightlife Culture Party culture thrives on trust. You can’t really surrender to a dancefloor or a cuddle pile if you’re wondering what’s in your drink. The moment we allow “surprise dosing” to slide as a quirky scene thing, we turn spaces that are supposed to be about freedom into spaces about power—where someone else’s thrill is worth more than your consent. So here’s the only rule worth repeating: If it’s really a gift, you can tell them what it is and respect that it will be their own decision. Written by: Amanda Sandström Beijer

There’s a moment — usually somewhere between being told to "be a good slut" on the second date and being ordered to kneel in someone’s apartment that still smells like a vape convention — when you pause and wonder: Is this erotic power play, or is this person just a narcissist with a Pinterest rope board? Welcome to the confusing, libidinal minefield of dating someone with what we’ll call a Dom Complex. Is It a Red Flag or Just a Dom Complex? The Dom Complex is like an edgy older cousin of the God Complex — but instead of healing people, they tell you when to come. It's not inherently toxic, but it can get there real fast. And if you’ve ever dipped even a toe into BDSM, you’ll know the line between commanding and controlling can be razor-thin, especially when you’re turned on. Let’s talk about how to spot when a dominant is actually dominant — and when they’re just hiding their red flags under a leather harness. So, What Is a Dom Complex? The Dom Complex is a seductive cocktail of confidence, charisma, and the kind of eye contact that makes you blush, even in a DM. People with a Dom Complex might introduce themselves with a firm handshake and a gaze that feels like being undressed. They're alluring. They're composed. They might tell you what to wear on a date. They might pull your hair at the crosswalk. They might make you feel more “seen” than any therapist ever could. But there’s a catch. People with a Dom Complex often confuse control with care. They lead with command instead of consent. They talk a lot about submission but very little about your actual limits. They might use BDSM as an aesthetic — not as a practice built on trust, communication, and negotiated  power exchange. It’s giving Dom. But is it giving safe, sane, and consensual? Green Flags in a Dom There are some incredible Dom/mes out there — skilled, emotionally intelligent, patient, attuned, and deeply respectful. The kind who build anticipation, not confusion. Who check in with precision. Who hold space for the scene and the aftercare. Who know the power they have and never misuse it. Real dominance isn’t about control — it’s about responsibility. So if you’re wondering if someone’s just a kinkfluencer with unresolved childhood stuff, here’s some things you can look for: They ask about your limits before anything physical happens. They emphasize aftercare as much as play. They understand that submission is a gift, not a given. They talk about consent with fluency, not defensiveness. They don’t rush. At all. Ever. They can handle you saying no — and won’t pout, push, or punish. A healthy Dom doesn’t need to “break” you. They want to build something with you. Red Flags Disguised as Kink Here’s where things get murky. Some of the most dangerous people in kink spaces are the ones who use BDSM terminology to justify straight-up abuse. That’s not drama — it's reality. Here’s what to watch for: “Safe words are for beginners.” → No. They’re for everyone. Even professionals. Even “naturals.” “If you were a real sub, you’d do what I say.” → You’re not auditioning for a role. This isn’t kink — it’s coercion. They skip negotiation. They just assume. → If there’s no conversation, there’s no consent. They don’t do aftercare, or act like it’s your job. → If someone can beat you, they can also hold you. You feel confused, not turned on. Disoriented, not safe. → Kink might stretch you, but it should never scramble you. Some red flags look like arousal — until the moment they don’t. Is It a Red Flag or Just a Dom Complex? The “Dom Who Doesn’t Date Doms” Red Flag Let’s touch on this one: the Dom (usually cis male) who says they “don’t date other Doms” or “only like true  submissives.” This often translates to: “I don’t want anyone who might challenge my control.” “I fetishize obedience but haven’t earned trust.” “I think submission is about weakness, not strength.” Major Dom Complex energy. True dominance doesn’t require the erasure of your autonomy. If someone’s allergic to power balance, they’re not a Dom — they’re a walking ego with a God-tier PornHub history. Is It You or Is It Them? Sometimes, we project our own healing (or lack of it) onto new dynamics. So it’s important to check in with yourself: Are you chasing a Dom because your ex left you craving structure? Are you confusing domination with affection? Are you seduced by confidence because you don’t trust your own? You don’t need to be perfectly healed to play with power — but the more self-aware you are, the easier it is to clock when someone’s using kink to manipulate instead of connect. What to Do If You’re Not Sure Slow down.  A Dom who gets mad when you pause is not a Dom worth trusting. Ask questions.  "What kind of dynamics do you enjoy?" "How do you handle limits?" Talk to your kink community.  Vetting works. Your friends might’ve met them already. Trust your body.  If your stomach knots up when they text, it’s not foreplay. You’re not being “too sensitive.” You’re protecting your nervous system. That’s valid. You’re Allowed to Want More There’s nothing wrong with craving dominance. With loving the surrender. With wanting to be pinned, praised, punished — or to do the pinning, praising, punishing. But that desire doesn’t mean you have to settle for someone who hides their toxicity under the word Sir . True dominance is earned — not declared. So next time you find yourself wondering, Is it a red flag or just a Dom Complex?  — check how they hold your boundaries. How they speak when they're not getting their way. What they do after the scene ends. The kink isn’t what’s dangerous. It’s the people who never learned the difference between power and control.

There’s a specific kind of spiritual vertigo that happens the first time you try to have vanilla sex after getting out of a BDSM relationship. You’re lying there, maybe making out, maybe someone’s fumbling with your bra clasp like it’s the Da Vinci Code, and your brain goes: Wait. This? Is it? No collar. No countdown. No eye contact rules. No impact play, no teasing, no kneeling, no ritual, no rhythm, no aftercare. Just a condom wrapper, a little heavy breathing, and possibly a Spotify algorithm that's absolutely not helping. Dating Vanilla After BDSM: A Survivor’s Guide The whole thing feels like ordering espresso and getting decaf oat milk foam. If your first real dom or sub relationship blew your mind, rewired your nervous system, or introduced you to parts of yourself you never knew existed — transitioning back to dating normies can be jarring at best, soul-crushing at worst. Welcome to the emotional hangover of trying to date vanilla after BDSM. Here’s your survival guide. First, Let’s Define the Terrain Vanilla isn't a slur. It just means someone who doesn’t actively participate in kink or BDSM. They might be amazing at communication. They might love missionary. They might be deeply sensual, generous lovers. They're not boring — they’re just not necessarily into power exchange, spanking, restraints, degradation, or ritualized punishment after brunch. Still, once you’ve experienced a dynamic that involves collaring, power surrender, erotic discipline, or even just someone checking your pulse after a scene — anything less can feel... thin. Like a song with the bass line removed. Like swiping on Tinder. You don’t hate vanilla people. You’re just a little ruined now. Step One: Stop Expecting Vanilla to Taste Like Kink The first trap people fall into when dating vanilla after BDSM is assuming the new person can be the last one, if only you use the right combination of coaxing and wishful thinking. Spoiler: You can’t dom someone by accident. You can’t sub someone into dominance. You can’t turn  someone kinky with enough eyeliner and enthusiasm. So stop auditioning people to be your ex. Start by accepting what the dynamic is , not what you want it to be. Ask questions. Share your needs. But don’t treat the lack of kink like a personal betrayal. Vanilla people are not your emotional kink dealers. They’re just trying to get to know you. Maybe they’ll get curious. Maybe they won’t. But they’re not here to replace anyone. And you shouldn't make them try. Step Two: Communicate Like You’re Still in the Scene One of the best things about BDSM relationships? Blisteringly honest communication. You talk about limits, triggers, expectations. You negotiate. You revisit. You aftercare. That level of verbal transparency isn’t exclusive to kink — but it is more common there. So bring it with you. If you're craving power dynamics, say that. If you need more feedback during sex, say that. If you're craving emotional structure, say that. Most vanilla people are starving for intimacy — they just don’t have the language yet. Teach by example. Use your words. And if they laugh at you when you say “I’m into service submission” or “I like being praised in bed”? Thank them for self-selecting out. Step Three: Don’t Water Yourself Down You don’t have to be ashamed of your past dynamic. You don’t have to lie about your ex. You don’t have to pretend you haven’t been tied to a radiator and lovingly caned while listening to ambient techno. You’re allowed to say: I had a dom. I had a sub. We used rituals. We role-played. We had protocols. You're also allowed to say: that’s not what I need right now — or, that’s still who I am. Dating vanilla doesn’t mean you erase your kink identity. It means you decide how much of it you want to bring into this new space. You don’t have to let go of your past to hold hands with someone new. Step Four: Let Yourself Be Surprised Sometimes the softest hands hit the hardest. That sweet, vanilla-seeming person who blushes when you talk about rope? They might become the best switch you’ve ever met. Or they might just want to worship your feet. Or tie your hands with scarves. Or surprise you with praise that hits harder than any paddle. Not every vanilla person stays vanilla forever. And not everyone has to. If you lead with curiosity, honesty, and a willingness to explore, you might just find that some of what you crave — control, surrender, devotion — exists outside the usual scripts. Maybe it’s not about rope. Maybe it’s just about someone really looking at you while you undress. Give people a chance to grow — and give yourself a chance to play differently. Dating Vanilla After BDSM: A Survivor’s Guide Step Five: Know When It’s Not Enough Not every connection will fill the void. That’s okay. If you try dating vanilla for a while and still feel hollow, unseen, touch-starved in a way that no amount of “normal” sex can solve — you’re allowed to say: I miss the scene. You're allowed to go back. To Fetlife. To your local dungeon. To your kinky group chat. To your friends who understand the joy of the crop and the cane. You don’t owe the world an explanation. You’re not “too intense.” You’re not “too much.” You just have needs that require fluency — and it’s okay to seek partners who speak your language natively. You’re Still Kinky. We're All Still Learning. Dating vanilla after BDSM isn’t a downgrade — it’s just a detour. Maybe temporary. Maybe permanent. Maybe exactly what you need. Maybe a lesson in what you don’t want. But you’re not broken. You’re just built differently now. Whether you end up back in the dungeon, in a softly lit bedroom with your new vanilla partner, or somewhere in between, the most important thing is: you don’t abandon yourself. Even when it’s quiet. Even when there’s no safeword. Even when it’s not pain, but something scarier — like softness — that makes you ache.

There’s a special kind of emotional masochism that comes with falling for the first person who introduces you to kink. One minute you’re nervously Googling “what does subspace feel like,” the next you’re on all fours in a collar you swore you’d never wear, moaning into a ball gag and thinking: holy shit, this person knows parts of me I didn’t even know existed. And then — they leave. How to Get Over Your First BDSM Breakup (Even If They Ruined You for All Vanilla Sex Forever) Maybe they ghosted. Maybe they “couldn’t hold space.” Maybe they dumped you at the dungeon door with some vague line about “lifestyle incompatibility.” However it happened, the aftermath is a uniquely specific kind of heartbreak: the BDSM breakup. It’s not just about losing a partner. It’s about losing your mirror. The person who unlocked your sexual blueprint and made you feel safe to be wild. It can feel like they invented your kink. Spoiler: they didn’t. But it still hurts like hell. So how do you move on after a dom or sub — especially your first — exits stage left? Let’s talk about it. The First Dom Effect: Why It Hits So Hard Falling in love with your first Dominant (or submissive) is like discovering a secret room inside your brain you didn’t know was there — and letting someone else redecorate it. BDSM relationships can be deeply intimate, especially when power exchange is involved. They’re emotional, spiritual, sometimes ritualistic. Your first Dom/me might’ve taught you how to breathe through pain, how to ask for what you want, how to surrender without shame. Your first sub may have trusted you with their entire body — their tears, their aftercare, their triggers. That shit is deep. So when it ends? It doesn’t just feel like a breakup. It feels like identity theft. And unlike your friends’ boring Tinder tragedies, you can’t really talk about it over brunch without sounding like an alien: “So yeah, my Dom ghosted me and now I can’t orgasm unless I smell leather and hear Depeche Mode…” We see you. Step One: Let It Hurt (But Don’t Let It Own You) It’s okay to spiral a little. You’re grieving — not just a person, but a version of yourself that only existed in their presence. Give yourself permission to mope, to rage, to reread their texts like a degenerate. Just don’t mistake your pain for a life sentence. Remember: they didn’t make you kinky. They just helped you meet the part of yourself that already was. Step Two: Uncollar Your Brain The symbolic weight of collars, rituals, safe words, punishments — it’s heavy. And after a breakup, your brain might still be collared even if your neck isn’t. Now’s the time to uncouple your sense of self from theirs. Here’s what helps: Clean your kink drawer. Get rid of toys you used together or pack them away. Cleanse the scene, both physically and energetically. Change your safe word. If you’re continuing in the scene, this helps reset your subconscious. Cut the contact. Even if they say they want to be “friends.” Especially if they say they want to be “mentors.” You don’t need a kink Yoda. You need a clean break. How to Get Over Your First BDSM Breakup (Even If They Ruined You for All Vanilla Sex Forever) Step Three: Remember Your Kink Didn’t Die With Them It’s tempting to think they were your one and only kinky soulmate. But the BDSM scene is not a monogamous god. There are literally thousands of switches, doms, brat tamers, service subs, and soft sadists out there. With better communication skills. And probably better lube. Just because they opened your eyes doesn’t mean they were your forever. You can mourn the teacher without dropping out of school. Step Four: Reclaim the Play This is the part that feels scary but crucial: you need to reclaim your kink. That might mean: Going to a rope workshop solo Watching porn that doesn’t remind you of them Finding a kink-friendly therapist to unpack the intensity Having casual scenes with safe, respectful new partners Journaling what turns you on — without their blueprint Your play doesn’t have to look the same. In fact, it probably shouldn’t. Think of this as kink 2.0 — less “what they made me,” more “what I want now.” Step Five: Stay in the Community (If You Want) Don’t isolate yourself just because your Dom or sub dipped. BDSM is built on community. There are play parties, munches, Discord servers, Reddit threads, workshops, meetups — some sleazy, some sacred, all imperfect but often supportive. Lean in. You might find new mentors, friends, even lovers. Or just people who’ll look you in the eye and say “oh yeah, my first dom ruined me too” — and mean it. Step Six: Laugh (Eventually) Yes, you cried after being called a good slut. Yes, you still flinch when you smell vetiver. But one day you’ll laugh about it. You’ll meet someone who kisses you better. You’ll hit a sub in the right spot and think “wow, this is even hotter than before.” You’ll realize that kink isn’t something someone gives you — it’s something you get to own. And guess what? That collar? Looks better on you anyway. The Aftercare Never Ends Breakups are hard. Kinky breakups can feel apocalyptic. But with time, support, and a little post-scene solo ritual, you’ll find your way back to your own power. You were always the Dom. You were always the submissive. They just helped you say it out loud. They were a chapter. You’re the book.

There’s something deeply erotic about the in-between. Not quite naked, not fully clothed. Not exactly dirty, not totally clean. The halfway zones where sexuality feels like a suggestion, or a secret. Enter: socks. Sock Fetish: Worshipping that Cotton on Your Feet The most underappreciated item of clothing just happens to be one of the most quietly, wildly fetishized. Not stilettos. Not thigh-high boots. Socks! And depending on who you ask, it’s either all about the sweaty athletic decay, or the crisp perfection of fresh white cotton — folded just right, no wrinkles, no stains. Either way, it’s not just a fetish. It’s a language. So… What Exactly Is a Sock Fetish? A sock fetish, broadly, is sexual attraction or arousal focused on socks themselves — how they look, feel, smell, or fit on the body. For some, it’s tactile. For others, it’s olfactory. For many, it’s about submission, power, and access — the idea of being close to someone, literally at their feet. Importantly: it’s not a sub-category of foot fetishism (though there's crossover). In fact, a lot of sock fetishists are far more into the socks than the feet inside them. To them, bare skin ruins the illusion. The sock is the main character. And here’s where it gets interesting: not all sock lovers are the same. Far from it. Sock Fetish: Worshipping that Cotton on Your Feet A Spectrum of Sock Worship Like most kinks, sock fetishism is broad, diverse, and deeply personal. Here's a breakdown of the key players: 1. The Dirty Sock Devotees Think post-gym, end-of-shift, socks-that-could-stand-on-their-own energy. This is about scent, sweat, and humiliation. These fetishists want socks that have lived — and preferably suffered. To them, the hotter the day and the rougher the use, the better. There's often a power play dynamic: the dom wears, the sub sniffs. It’s olfactory submission. Used socks become sacred. Bagged. Collected. Even vacuum sealed. 2. The Clean White Sock Worshippers On the other end of the spectrum are the lovers of clean, pristine, white athletic socks. This isn’t about filth. It’s about aesthetic control. The shape, the structure, the sharp white lines against bare thighs. It’s incredibly specific. Think 90s gym class fantasy meets purity kink. The socks must be tight. Matching. Possibly never worn outside. Bonus points if paired with sneakers. This version is less about submission and more about fetishized perfection — a sanitized, stylized version of desire. 3. The Peel Enthusiasts There’s a very real erotic thrill to watching a sock slowly peel off a foot. For some, that moment — the reveal, the unfurling — is the fetish. It’s the striptease of the foot world. A visual kink that sits somewhere between sensory tension and lowkey voyeurism. 4. The Texture Addicts They get off on how socks feel: fuzzy wool, ribbed cotton, cashmere, nylon. These are the kinksters who might want to be bound in socks, gagged with socks, rubbed down by socks. It’s about friction. Comfort. Soft domination. The domestic materiality of desire. 5. The Sock Dommes They know exactly what power looks like in a stretched-out Hanes. Sock dommes wear their worship on their calves. They sell their socks, stuff them in mouths, trample lovers underfoot. They don't just wear socks — they weaponize them. Sock Kink Isn’t New — But It’s Finally Having a Moment You might think this is a TikTok trend or OnlyFans subgenre, but sock fetishism is old. Old old. Sartorial turn-ons have existed for centuries — from gloves to corsets to shoes. Socks are just the latest fabric to get its freak moment. What’s changed now is that it’s visible. Between Reddit threads, scent fetish platforms, and full-blown sock selling marketplaces (yes, really), the sock fetish has gone from shame closet to side hustle. Here’s where it’s happening: Snifffr: For the dirty sock lovers — scent kink marketplace vibes. You can browse, buy, and DM sellers. FeetFinder: Best for foot and sock content creators — including clean sock lovers. OnlyFans: Thousands of creators now have sock-worship tiers. Many will sell worn pairs, do customs, or build full sock-play narratives. Reddit: Try r/sockfetish or r/usedsocksforsale. Yes, they exist. And yes, they’re busy. Why Are Socks Sexy? They're intimate: We wear them all day, some people even wear them for days. They carry our scent, our shape, our tension. They’re a form of control: Who gets to take them off? Who gets to keep them? Who has to beg for them? They’re accessible: Everyone has them. Everyone wears them. That normalcy is part of the kink. They blur gender lines: Socks are universal. You’ll find male, female, and gender neutral doms and subs all leaning into sock worship from different angles. They play well with others: Sock kink pairs perfectly with humiliation play, chastity, footdom, JOI, trampling, and sensory deprivation. How to Explore Sock Kink Without Losing Your Chill If you’re curious (or already quietly into it), here’s your roadmap: Start solo: Keep your socks on during masturbation. Notice what you feel. Try different textures or states of wear. Sniff test: Smell your own socks at the end of the day. You might surprise yourself. Communicate: If you have a partner, tell them. Socks are an easy gateway into kink — they’re low effort but super charged. Role play: Build a dom/sub dynamic around socks — forced sniffing, gifting, degradation, or even high praise. Support creators: Buy from people who turn sock kink into art, theatre, seduction, and commerce. Socks Are Not Innocent They’re not a neutral item. They are an erotic accessory hiding in plain sight. A fetish with no singular shape. A kink that can be sweaty or spotless, vulgar or romantic. Whether you get turned on by the damp slouch of a 3-day-old gym sock, or the pristine tension of white cotton pulled over calves just-so, it’s all valid. It’s all hot. And it all says something about what kind of lover — or sub — you secretly are. Socks: they’re the lingerie of the underground.

The internet’s latest kink obsession is called gooning—and it’s a whole new beast. No, it’s not just edging (though people often use them like they’re the same). Gooning is masturbation reimagined  as a trance, a ritual, a sensory highway to nowhere. It's primal, repetitive, and weirdly communal. What is Gooning? Let's Delve Into the Latest Kink Obsession Gooning Explained: From Edging to the Goon State Technically, gooning is an extreme form of edging: masturbating for hours while watching porn, staying at the edge of orgasm, and sustaining a hyper-focused, trance-like state. You might drool. Your eyes cross. Porn loops become meditative. Eventually you stop even aiming to cum. You just want to be  that sensation. That’s the goon state. Buts here’s the key: all gooning is edging, but not all edging is gooning. Gooning is about losing yourself — a slow burn into sensory surrender. A Brief History: From Internet Ya-hyena to Meme Carbonite Origins trace back to early 2000s fetish forums. By 2018, Mel Magazine  called it “masturbating into a trance,” describing its transformation from subculture to performative ritual.  TikTok and Gen Z slang gave it new life—now “goon” can mean someone obsessing over fantasy, a chaotic fan, or even just someone horny as hell. Online subcultures formed in Discord servers, subreddits like r/GOONED, and FetLife threads where participants texted each other live while gooning. It's weird, it's ritual, it's mirrored performance. Body, Mind, and Trance: Why People Goon Gooning delivers sensory overload: porn becomes hypnotic, the body turns passive, and thoughts dissolve. Reddit users report merging with their penises—"the goon becomes the dick. There’s ego loss, surrender, pure sensation. For some, it's catharsis. For others, it's addiction dressed as ritual. The Dark Side: Experts Warn About Damage Multiple sex therapists and addiction experts have raised eyebrows at the rising popularity of gooning: Erectile dysfunction,  due to needing porn-quality stimulation to climax. Desensitization to human touch  and intimacy. Porn-induced anxiety,  mood crashes, and compulsion cycles. These issues are hitting real people — “I can’t arouse with a partner unless there's screens involved” is a common refrain. Goon Culture: Why It's So Social Gooning isn’t a solo act. It's fully networked: users share porn loops, shout encouragement mid-session, and compete in stamina challenges. Some describe full sessions in Discord or porn bake-off threads like transit rites to a shared microverse of lust and haze. It’s performative, communal, and ultimately self-erasing. Gooning vs. Edging: What Actually Sets Them Apart Feature Edging Gooning Purpose Heighten eventual climax Prolong arousal indefinitely Cognitive State Clear focus, controlled Trance, dissociation, blur Duration Minutes to tens of minutes Hours of sensory immersion Community Practice Often solo Often shared via platforms or chatrooms Reddit users clarify: "Edge until you cum, goon until you don't know you’re alive." Final Thought: Ritual, Risk, and Resonance Gooning is kink reimagined as ritual. It’s communal yet isolating. It’s trance-like yet leaves you ghosted. It’s sex—but without sex. And for that, it's tapped a growing generation that consumes pleasure like a drug, loops it, and lets reality fade away. If curiosity turns to compulsion, experts suggest a break from porn, journaling, cold showers, or therapy. No judgment. Just awareness. Breaking it Down Gooning = edging to the edge of eternity. It's not about the cum—it’s about chasing the sensation. Enter at your own risk, set boundaries, and remember: even the deepest trance can snap you out when you least expect it.

There’s no delicate way to say this: Tinder’s not built for collar negotiations. And Hinge doesn’t understand what “Switch, but not your toy” means. If your libido’s wired to rope tension, authority play, or orgasm denial — you’re gonna need a better ecosystem. BDSM Dating: A No-Bullshit Guide to Where Safe Words Meet Swipe Culture BDSM dating, when done right, is half sex, half strategy, and full-spectrum power play. The digital world finally caught up. From old-school fetish forums to sleeker apps that get your dynamic without flinching, the kink space online has become its own twisted garden. Here’s where to log on, link up, and maybe get consensually ruined in the process. FetLife — Less Dating, More Lifestyle Best for:  Deep-dive learning, kink communities, IRL event invites 🔗 fetlife.com FetLife isn’t so much a dating site as it is a BDSM archive with social-network frosting. Founded in 2008, it’s the go-to for discovering munches, workshops, and threads like “How to vet a Dom” or “Rope burn aftercare 101.” You won’t get algorithmic matches or Tinder-grade UX, but you will find real-life kinksters who care about consent, protocols, and what the hell “TPE” means. You’re not here to look hot — you’re here to read someone’s 3,000-word takedown of lazy Doms and still want to DM them after. ALT.com — You Know What You're Here For Best for:  Detailed searches, roleplay specifics, zero fluff 🔗 alt.com ALT.com is like if Craigslist and a dungeon got merged in a server room. It’s been around forever, and it shows — the UI is clunky, but the filters are god-tier. Whether you’re into impact play, cuckold dynamics, or being turned into someone’s latex doll, ALT lets you sort by fetish, role, age, location, and more. It’s straightforward kink dating without pretense. It does require a paid upgrade for anything beyond lurking. But if you’re tired of swiping through normies who think “light choking” is edgeplay, this might be your dark little haven. Feeld — Soft Launch Your Kinks Best for:  Queer, curious, and non-binary folks exploring kink 🔗 feeld.co Feeld is the glossy, fluid, mostly well-meaning cousin in the kink dating family. It's not strictly BDSM-focused, but it’s arguably the friendliest place to start  kink discovery — especially for people figuring out their gender, dynamic, or relationship model. Poly-friendly, gender-diverse, and openly weird, it supports multiple profiles, partner linking, and dozens of identity tags. The downside? Lots of tourists. People who read one Dan Savage column and call themselves “kink-curious.” Be upfront in your bio. Use the “desires” tab with precision. You’ll filter out the fluff. Fetish.com — Kind of Like FetLife’s Flirtier Twin Best for:  Finding play partners near you, no pressure 🔗 fetish.com Fetish.com is Europe-heavy and slightly more user-friendly than FetLife. It’s got profiles, DMing, forums, and a “Kink Test” that’s 30% helpful, 70% vibey. You can browse by dynamic, fetish, or zip code, and while it doesn’t have FetLife’s encyclopedic range, it does support casual kink connection without too much gatekeeping. Bonus: there’s an “Academy” with sex-ed articles that don’t feel like high school health class. KinkD — Think Grindr, But with Focus on Safewords Best for:  On-the-go kink matching, especially in cities 🔗 kinkd.com KinkD is a mobile-first BDSM app that’s trying to do what Grindr did for gay men — instant access, local filter, minimal bullshit. Profiles are short, messages are quick, and most people are looking for something now. It’s best for urban areas, especially if you’re subbing between meetings or Domming after dinner. It lacks nuance (don’t expect deep convos about protocol), but for raw connection? It works. Ashley Madison — Still Kinky, Still Discreet Best for:  High-risk, high-fantasy dynamics 🔗 ashleymadison.com Yes, it’s the infamous site for “affairs.” But let’s be real: Ashley Madison has quietly become a haunt for (pretending to be vanilla) married kinksters and other people who live for double lives. If you’re in a power-exchange dynamic where secrecy or duality adds fuel, this is the one to watch. You can stay anonymous, blur your pics, and keep your phone number out of it. We’re not saying it's ethical. We’re saying it’s an option — and it’s one that’s got an audience. BDSM Dating: A No-Bullshit Guide to Where Safe Words Meet Swipe Culture Munch Before You Play: The Real-World Part Even the best platform won’t vet someone like a real-life eye contact moment. Enter the munch  — casual, clothed, often coffee-filled meetups where local kink communities vet and vibe IRL. Search on FetLife, JoyClub (if you’re in Europe), or check out MeetUp for adjacent alt scenes. It’s like pre-partying with the dungeon crew before you bring out the flogger. Also: many major cities have dungeon parties, peer-vetted Dom schools, and real consent workshops. If you’re new to BDSM, show up to learn — not to perform. The Best BDSM Dating Sites (Shortlist): Site Best For Link Free/Paid FetLife Community, Events, Education fetlife.com Free ALT.com Specific fetish filtering alt.com Paid Feeld Queer, poly, kink-curious feeld.co Freemium Fetish.com Flirty, user-friendly kink space fetish.com Freemium KinkD Quick mobile matches kinkd.com Free Ashley Madison Discreet kink and affairs ashleymadison.com Paid BDSM Dating BDSM dating isn’t about finding someone who just says  they’re dominant — it’s about finding someone who knows how to listen, structure, caretake, and fuck like it’s ceremony. You’re not looking for love in the traditional sense. You’re looking for trust with tension. And that takes filtering. Whether you’re deep into scene life or just testing your subby instincts, there’s a site out there for you. Just be clear. Be safe. Be freaky. And never settle for someone who thinks aftercare is optional.