Followers

I love to travel. I like attending kink events in various cities throughout Canada and the US. I know plenty about the political machinations of various organizations. I’ve made some great friends due to my attendance at events. I’ve learned much from these friends I've made, but mostly I’ve learned that all people are human, and frequently people that are idolized are the most precarious of people. They sport enormous egos, and frequently what’s buried beneath is anxiety and insecurity.

I was with a group of friends at dinner recently at such an event (I’ll be writing about this event soon) and a man’s name came up that is no longer in the lifestyle. I was new in the scene when I met him. I spent time with him, getting to know him. A woman that I loved and played with frequently was his occasional play partner. They coincidentally lived in the same city and therefore spent quite a bit of time together. Now and then I'd travel to see her and I spent time with both of them.

This man had a large following, was very skilled in the use of whips and loved the non stop adulation and attention he received. He had a very – or so I thought at the time – unique way of showcasing his talents. He’d choose a bottom, place them on a stage, arrange the lighting just so, make sure the music was playing a song which he had already pre-selected. As he whipped, he watched the crowd, and scanned faces for approvals. I viewed the women he played with as decorative submissives. You know the type I mean, only the best looking, only those that could make this top look very good and who are interested in only playing with people that make them look good. When the scene was over his group of decorative subs would sit at or near his feet and oohed and ahhhed, and the fever pitch of idolatry would hit a new high. And frankly, he needed that high; it fed him, stroked him almost sexually, made him feel confident, and became his drug of choice. Those incredible highs would lead to the lowest of lows.

Upon occasion – after these events, he would facilitate discussions which frequently were more like delivering a homily. At these discussions, it was very rare that anyone (Dominant or submissive) produced an original thought or disagreed with his words. This would lead to another decorative submissive being displayed, whipped, followed by more adulation, followed by more highs, and more stupefying lows once the light of dawn appeared and people crawled home leaving him to his inner demons.

His lows came from being alone and his feelings of having to be alone as opposed to choosing to be alone, from not living in reality, from not dealing with his issues and his problems, and his non-stop need to escape reality.

Crazily, this manic cycle repeated itself again and again, until after an infamous meltdown, he got the medical help he desperately needed, and then over time, emotional help to complete his healing process. A few years passed and he admitted that he was into D/s only because – drum rolls please – it gave him the attention, the adulation, the adoration that he wanted. His burn out has been so total that he now no longer pretends at D/s, and willingly admits to those he loves that he was a gigantic fake.

I know that there are quite a few people that are new to the lifestyle – as I once was. I know that in my early times I believed that all Dominants knew more than I. Many new kinksters immediately admired Dominants or submissives that had a reputation just as I did. It never dawned on me to really examine why I and others were in such awe of someone.

I’m here to tell you that no matter how long you’ve been in the lifestyle, if you’re faking it, it just proves that you’ve been faking it for as long as you've been in the lifestyle, and those months or years will eventually catch up with you and broadside you. By the time your broadsiding occurs, they’ll be few admirers left.

Very truly yours,

Isabelle Channing