Personal-Boundary Stories

Something that happened to me a few days ago got me thinking about personal-space boundaries - both in the BDSM community and in everyday life.

I was on a busy train platform, reading a book and waiting for my husband to meet me to get on the train, when a stranger approached me and said, "Hello, I'm new here and looking to make friends." I looked up, mildly annoyed, thinking he might have better luck if he were not interrupting people, perhaps somewhere more conducive to conversation than a busy train station. After an awkward silence, he added, "I'm gay" - I'm guessing to clarify that he wasn't trying to hit on me.

"I'm waiting for someone," I answered.

"Oh," he said, looking disappointed. "Well, if they don't show up, then maybe you and I could go somewhere instead," and he put his arm around my shoulders.

"No!" I said, loudly and clearly, and pushed him off of me.

He looked hurt and repeated, "I'm just looking to make friends" - and reached out to stroke my arm. At which point I panicked and ran out of the train station, and took several long minutes of deep breaths before regaining the courage to go back to see if my husband had gotten there yet.

So less than ten minutes later, the stranger was gone, and I told the story to my husband to explain why I was acting hyper-anxious. And already, even five minutes later, I realized that maybe I had overreacted. I probably hadn't been in any physical danger; the guy was just lonely. But the fact remains: He touched me, I pushed him and said "No," and he tried to touch me again. Non-sexual, non-violent, but it still took a good half hour before my breathing and heart-rate calmed entirely back to normal.

And I thought for a split-second: Maybe it's ironic that I would be so sensitive to this, given how much of the last five years I've spent at BDSM parties being spanked by people I barely know. Except, I realized immediately: No, it isn't at all ironic. Because in the BDSM community, we fetishize consent and communication above all else. Respectful communication and consent are the doctrines that make what we do okay; they are absolutely central to our subculture.

About a year and a half ago, I was at a particular party at a BDSM convention to which tickets had been sold on the Internet, and watching everyone else's scenes was making me horny. But I only had one partner in town, and he was playing with someone else, and I wasn't in the mood to seek out anything casual. So, with some self-empowered inspiration, I went to a corner to tie myself up and masturbate. And as I was doing so, an unattractive man I didn't know pulled up a chair about five or ten feet away to watch me. Which initially repulsed me. But as I thought about what to say to him, I realized that I had of course been aware that I was in a room crowded with other kinky people playing, and if I really wanted to masturbate in private, I could easily do that in my private hotel room. Which I considered leaving for. But honestly, I was at the party because I'm an exhibitionist. My problem with this particular person watching was not that I mind strangers watching, but that this stranger was older, unattractive, and wearing a silly T-shirt. He stayed at a distance well outside arm's length, and stayed silent. So after a while, I closed my eyes, tied a length of rope around my head to keep them closed, and tried to forget about him. It occurred to me that if he did by some chance come any closer, I could yell out a safeword and a dozen trusted friends would come running. ....But he didn't, and I got into my blindfolded masturbation with the sounds of other people's pain and pleasure around me, and I had a fabulous orgasm.

When I opened my eyes again, I was surprised to see the same man still sitting there. But he never made eye contact or approached me. I simply finished untying myself and walked away to see how my partner's scene was going. I didn't want that man to touch me: So I didn't invite him to, so he didn't. And it really was that simple.

The BDSM community has successfully created these spaces where everyone, no matter how outrageously publicly sexual, has the right to not be touched without prior communication and consent. I wish that more people in train stations were so respectful.