Fetlife

In my twenties I had time to court women on the Internet, and the fetish market felt like a small town. There was no Tinder, no OnlyFans,just message boards, forums, and late-night chats. It wasn’t easy, but it was viable, and being single meant I could show my face without a second thought.

Two decades later everything feels commercial. Domination slid into the same category as Netflix or Photoshop: a subscription, a service, a product. Findom became a paradigm, and the places that used to feel communal,FetLife, Twitter,turned into billboards. Back then social networks were driven by friendship: add someone and they added you back. Now everything runs on one-way follows. I skim their personas; they never see mine.

Back in my twenties I had time to court women online. Fetish spaces were smaller. There was no Tinder, no OnlyFans, and the market felt intimate. I was also single, so putting my face out there, flirting on message boards, chatting on MSN or ICQ,that was normal. It wasn’t easy, but it was viable.

Two decades later everything is different. Domination became a subscription, a polished service packaged like Netflix, Photoshop, or anything else with a monthly fee. Findom turned into a paradigm and the networks I once used to meet people,FetLife, Twitter,became billboards instead of communities. In the first generation of social media friendship was mutual: if I added you, you added me. Nowadays the follow button is one-directional. I consume the persona, but it doesn’t know me.

A short black woman I met on FetLife. Her profile said domme, but cuckoldry was what truly moved her, and that was what I was looking for at the time. Still, I felt, and still feel, that she wanted more than I was willing to give. She talked about us travelling together and rehearsed an intimacy that, from where I stood, had no room inside her marriage. The discomfort grew with every message, because I feared walking into a ground that wasn’t ours alone. I had just come out of the relationship with Luana, and the weight of it still followed me around.

She was my first. A married domme with two kids, older than me, whom I met online on FetLife. She loved poking at my masculinity. We met twice: in one she took me to a motel, in the other she invited me to her house, as a friend, with her husband and children around. It was creepy, and I was barely 22.