I have always believed that to truly understand and teach BDSM, one must entrench themselves entirely into its depths, traversing the vistas of desire and power with an open mind and a willing spirit. Everyone wants to know about the whips and chains, but as an educator and participant, my interest has always been in the slow build, in the anticipation and exhibitionism that winds the watch of pleasure oh so tightly. My fascination began during a summer in my mid-thirties - an era of life where most feel that they have seen, tasted, and felt everything that life can offer. How wrong was I.
That summer, I was invited to a private party hosted by an old friend, Jacques, a seasoned connoisseur of alternative lifestyles. He was known for his liberating affairs, tasteful yet crossing the realm of the deliciously scandalous. His invitation had been simple - no BS, just links to choose an outfit based on our level of comfort and daring. As an educator, my interest was piqued, but as a woman, my heart raced in sync with my curiosity. I chose a sheer piece of burgundy silk that draped over my body, leaving nothing to the imagination. Or perhaps, leaving everything to it.
As I stepped into Jacques’ grand salon on that balmy evening, a wave of adrenaline washed over me; I felt the gazes, the curiosity and, most importantly, the respect. There was power in exhibitionism, I realized, but it wasn’t just the blatant display of novelty. It was the slow build, like tension pulled taut on the string of a bow, that sweet ache of anticipation. Every conversation, every shared glance, wound that string a bit tighter. Each consensual advance stoked the fire of desire, turning the heat up degree by degree.
Everyone at the soiree was an active participant, a choice that perfectly illustrated the heart of BDSM – a consensual and symbiotic dance of power and submission. As an educator, I was driven to experience it, to submerge myself in the quicksand of sensuality and power. There was a certain vulnerability to it, in being seen, truly seen, not just for flesh and bone, but for the raw desires that twisted beneath one's skin.
That night, as tongues wagged and champagne flutes clinked, I realized how powerful and intoxicating the slow build could be. I felt as though I were an artist's muse, a specter of feminine desire cast in sultry shadows and soft candlelight. But even in all of that transparent exposure, I was still in control. That was the beauty of it – the raw, unfiltered authenticity.
In a world where instant gratification has diminished the allure of anticipation, the slow build reinstates its importance, its electrifying thrill. It's a dance, a story written in discreet glances and the subtle brush of fingertips, culminating in the crescendo of release. It's the journey, not just the destination, and within that journey lies an exhibitionist's playground. The slow build for me lies in not just the physical, but in the emotional connection, the heady give-and-take of power until it forms an intoxicating cocktail of vulnerability, strength, and desire.
In the end, the experience unveiled a new realm of pleasure to me, something raw and uniquely human. It deepened my understanding of BDSM, especially of the exhibitionism that I previously saw as a peripheral aspect of this realm. Now, I teach, I share – my experiences, my explorations, my revelations. But always remember - no BS, just links to your deepest desires. That's the core of my teachings, my experiences - that you are not alone in your desires; that they are not shameful but rather, beautiful expressions of your human nature. 
