There are perverts
everywhere these days. You probably are one, or if you’re not, you
probably know one. Given the huge growth and fragmentation of what used
to be called the fetish scene, the various breeds of pervert are increasing
as fast as the number of fetish clubs. But when it comes to categorizing
these perverts, it’s not so much a matter of whether they like whips,
rubber, aubergines, handcuffs or wee-wee, it’s more to do with their
attitude. Here, then, is a handy guide to the modern types of Pervius
Millenius, the greater or lesser 21st Century Pervert.
The Proud Pervert
People who are into BDSM, as you always call it, explaining at length
to anyone who looks even the slightest bit bemused that it stands for
Bondage, Discipline, Dominance and Submission and Sado-Masochism, are
people with richer imaginations and
deeper emotional lives. They’re not afraid of their own inner darkness
and have confronted all their emotional traumas and know themselves really
well. You know all this, because you’re one of them. You want everyone
to know how much your acceptance of your sexuality has enhanced your life,
and you feel that it’s only their inhibitions that prevent them
from doing what you do. You’re quick to perceive any insult or hint
of bigotry from anyone less enlightened, and to correct their thinking
for them, and you’re quite happy to pop out for a pint of milk in
full rubberwear and nipple clamps. You’re first in the queue whenever
any TV producer or journalist is looking for ‘interesting’
people to interview about sexual issues and there is absolutely no one
in your life who doesn’t know about your personal preferences. In
detail. You’re great because: You’re intelligent and articulate
enough to demonstrate that the sexually diverse aren’t drooling
maniacs, and you often work hard on matters of human rights, political
campaining and suchlike. You’re crap because: You can bore for Britain
when you really get going; you actually don’t have much tolerance
for people whose sexual preferences you don’t share, and you have
an ego the size of Mars. This could be you if: you insist on your parents
fitting rings in the ceiling of the spare bedroom for when you come to
stay; you’re never off the phone to the local radio
discussion programme.
The Propellerhead Pervert
You don’t like to let on that you found out about fetishism when
you clicked the wrong link on some fellow geek’s page - you were
trying to find the secret Tomb Raider command that allows you to see Lara
Croft naked - but now you’ve discovered a virtual world where you
won’t get kicked out of the discussion group for using words like
‘arse’. You’ve rapidly read as many essays, rants and
e-books as you could in order to present as an expert on just about everything,
and now you’ve got either a mistress or a whole array of slaves.
All online, of course. You don’t like to think about the possibility
that the nubile, compliant, big-titted SlutChik who promises to obey your
every command might actually be a bearded truck driver from Grimsby, because
that reminds you that, rather than the saturnine, engagingly satanic and
devastatingly handsome PainMaster that you pretend to be, you’re
a spotty git who still lives with Mum and has never got further than a
hand up Sharon-from-4B’s skirt at the final year school disco. You’re
great because: you give the rest of us someone to feel superior to; you’re
so net-savvy you can always find the most obscure information on new toys
and practices, and forward it on. You’re crap because: you blunder
through discussion groups insisting that everyone either obey you or,
if you’re submissive, dominate you online; you’re likely to
spread idiotic rumours and disinformation because you believe them. This
could be you if: you always announce yourself at fetish social events
with a phrase
like “well, my on-line name is -”; you’ve dumped your
squeeze for someone you have never met except in cyberspace
The Pagan Pervert
You’re well-read enough to be able to discuss the history of flagellation
for religious reasons, temple prostitution and the divine-madness/release
of tension stuff about orgies. You also know that offering to tell someone’s
fortune or ‘heal’ them of some or other affliction is an excellent
way of getting them naked and into your clutches. In fact, you’ve
managed to cobble together a heady creation of myth, legend and cherry-picked
moral philosophies that perfectly justify your every sexual desire, and
for this you should be complemented. After all, it’s no different
from any other religion and, given the emphasis on personal choices that
pagans seem to like, a lot more benign: you’re too busy getting
your oats to worry about killing unbelievers. And, as we’re always
being told that human beings these days suffer from a lack of ritual in
our lives, your elaborate performances in bedroom, boudoir and dungeon
can probably sort your playmates’ heads out very nicely. You’re
great because: You tend to believe in the importance of being a good person
and helping others, which means your partner gets to come more than you
do; you’re colourful
and entertaining You’re crap because: you can be oversensitive to
‘the vibes’ and thus stop other people having a good time,
you occaisonally want to manifest your psychic powers by screaming or
breaking things when everyone else is trying to have a kip. This could
be you if: you’re more interested in your new playmate’s aura
than his or her arse; you habitually use words like "shamanic”
and words like “buttplug” in the same sentence.
The Pathetic Pervert
You are almost invariably male. You want some kinky sex and you want it
ever so much, and you want it right now. In fact, you probably have a
very detailed idea of exactly how you want your bout of sexual activity
to play out. Unfortunately, no one seems to want to come and do it with
you, and you think this is because they are all Bad People, cliquish,
stuck up and stupid. You go to a lot of events, but you always leave alone,
and most of your interaction with other people consists of them telling
you to fuck off. Your other form of interacting consists of complaining
either to the event promoter, on internet chat groups or discussion boards
or in letter form to the editors of fetish mags that there are not enough
single women on the fetish scene (as though we’re something for
the promoter to supply, like booze or food or a cabaret) and that dress-codes
infringe your human rights. You’re crap because: you often become
so embittered at the lack of offers you get that you resort to groping
or vigorously masturbating in the corner of your local fetish club; you
will never listen to any advice on ways to improve your chances by improving
your manners. You’re great because: Er.... This could be you if:
your idea of what to wear in a strict-dress-code fetish club is socks
with sandals and a nasty leatherette posing pouch with one nad hanging
out.
The Prettiest Pervert
When you walk into a club, heads do turn, even in the dressiest environment,
because you are quite gorgeous or at least young enough and thin enough
to be “pretty” like a girl-band member or minor soap star.
This does make you something of a rarity on the fetish scene, where people
tend to be older and more diverse in every way. You usually travel with
an entourage or at least one friend who is nearly as pretty as you –
or who is very ostentatiously acting as your minder. Some people think
you must be loaded because you always have the best and brightest in designer
fetishwear; sometimes it is true that you spend a fortune on your clothes,
but it’s also possible that you are given huge discounts by fetishwear
designers in return for telling folk where you got the outfit or doing
a bit of semi-amateur modelling for them. The one thing you’re never
seen to do in a club is get up to any whipping, spanking or sex, probably
because it would mess up your hair or stain your new outfit. You’re
great because: you really are a visual treat, which is never a bad thing,
and you’re usually extrovert enough to pose for any club photographers,
thus allowing the shy to remain unmolested. You’re crap because:
You give and indeed foster the impression that the fetish scene is about
clothes first and foremost; you can be rude about people who you think
don’t match your standards of attractiveness. This could be you
if: you’ve had your picture in Latextra more than once; your favourite
fetish event is the Rubber Ball.
The Power-Crazed Pervert
Fetish veteran Ishmael Skyes, overlord of The Firm, coined the phrase
Dominatrix Toxaemia to describe the archetypal cruel beautiful mistress
who can’t put the persona away with the handcuffs and dildos but
starts acting like Countess Dracula in
McDonalds and can’t understand why the senior staff at her day job
don’t get down and grovel every time she enters a room. Due in part
to sharp words from female members of The Firm the condition is now referred
to as Dom Tox to encompass the fact that male tops can be just as bad.
You think that people who mutter “DT” every time you walk
past are jealous, or immature, or not sufficiently concerned with the
wellbeing of “the SM community” by which you mean people who
admire you and agree with you. You run a club, or you’re planning
to run a club, or you’ve founded a website or a munch group, and
everyone who comes to it has to do things your way or you’ll have
them excommunicated. Your list of rules for attending your events runs
to six or seven pages. Any event you run or are involved with does run
like clockwork, and you do have a knack for putting together a good night
out,
quite often at a reasonable price to the punter, but they have to be into
just what you’re into, and it helps if they’re sexually attractive
to you as well. You’re great because: you make things happen; you
are decisive when it comes to dealing with really bad behaviour in a club
– the offender is ejected immediately with no worried confabs about
the ethics of it. You’re crap because: you can start escalating
feuds if you think you’re being slighted; you often have a very
rigid definition of what constitutes proper BDSM and don’t tolerate
variations on it. This could be you if: You delight in passing on rumours
about other promoters; you’ve
banned someone from an event for refusing your advances or copping off
with a person you fancied.
The Paranoid Pervert
Everyone who is not either a sexual partner of yours or a member of your
like-minded gang is actively seeking to expose you in public as an SM-lover
and tell everyone where you live and what you do in lurid detail. In fact,
you’re a very mild perve in pervy terms; a little light spanking,
a blindfold or two, maybe you or your partner consider yourselves ‘collared’
ie in a committed slave/master or mistress relationship and you have a
couple of PVC outfits tucked away in a box in the attic. You probably
haven’t been on the fetish scene very long, and you may well have
begun your explorations in an attempt to spice up a stale relationship.
Perhaps its dissatisfaction with your circumstances that fuels your panic
attacks, perhaps you’re really longing for someone to ‘out’
you so you can rebuild a more interesting life after the fallout has evaporated.
The merest mention of a photographer or film crew at an open fetish event,
no matter how well-behaved they are and how well-policed their visit,
sends you into hysterical paroxysms. The incapability of The Media to
be anything other than prurient scum, in your eyes, is a sin equalled
only by that of any club promoter who even speaks to The Media on the
phone, but then all club promoters are money-grabbing bastards who don’t
care about people like you. You’re great because: you can act as
a brake on the tendency of some club owners to allow
utterly unrestrained access without asking their customers if they even
mind; you sometimes have a nose for actual disreputable intentions. You’re
crap because: you don’t confine your precautionary attitude to your
own life but attack other perverts who have made the decision to go public
about their preferences. This could be you if: You’re the one screaming
“NO CAMERAS! NO CAMERAS!” at bemused out-of-towners taking
polaroids of each other in the club toilets; you put your used condoms
and out-of-date fetish mags through a shredder.
And finally... The Pissed Pervert
That’s me. I’m the one at the bar with a pint in each hand
and the only bruises I’ve got are from falling headlong down the
stairs in my shiny new spike heels. And if you believe that... |