"Up until this point, I had spent most of my adult life being told that my sexual tastes were weird. Aged 17, when I asked my first boyfriend to spank me with his belt, he looked at me as if I'd just asked him to flay a kitten. The boyfriend after him thought a bottle of lube counted as foreplay, so getting him to indulge in the dark arts was out of the question."
"Then, at 26, I met a very kind, intelligent and funny man who later became my husband. I knew from the get-go that we weren't sexually compatible, but by this point I had figured that a full and fun sex life wasn't on the cards for me anyway. So I stuffed my kink in a drawer and hoped that it would stay quiet while I got on with the business of life."
"Shockingly, it turns out that ignoring your needs and preferences isn't a sustainable longterm plan. Over time, that thing I'd stuffed in a drawer started whispering for attention. I masturbated constantly in an attempt to keep it quiet, but it wasn't enough. The whisper turned to shouting, and it started trying to claw its way out. Within a few short years, it took all my energy to keep a lid on it."
Leesa was handcuffed in a 4x4 after meeting a man she called Simon two weeks earlier on a BDSM website. She identifies as a recovered sex addict who, after a divorce at 32, sought connection with people who shared her sexual preferences. Early partners labelled her tastes as weird, prompting her to suppress her kink during marriage. Suppression evolved into compulsive masturbation and intrusive urges that drained her energy. Ultimately, she returned to online kink communities to seek compatible partners and to confront long-repressed desires despite discomfort.
Read at www.theguardian.com
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