I cross my legs and try to get comfortable… well, as comfortable as is possible when you are about to do something totally new and a little bit taboo, with a group of complete strangers. Looking around, I check out the 25-or-so others. They seem… well, normal I suppose. But that makes sense; I’m pretty normal, yet I too have signed up for an introductory class on kinky play.
I’ve got that feeling in my chest. The one that says both ‘Holy crap how did I get here?’ and ‘This is potentially going to be very cool’ at the same time. The atmosphere of the room calms me a little. It’s warm, there’s big cushions, it feels a bit like we are just hanging out in a big lounge room, rather than a workshop space in the inner city. But it’s not a loose, casual vibe that’s happened because no-one is at the helm; in fact everything about this experience feels like it’s been designed to create safety and ease. (Watch: The Mamamia team confesses their most embarrassing sex moments.)
A man – actually, I think he identifies as a ‘person’ rather than a ‘man’ – who introduces himself as Rog sits at the front of the room. He’s not the scantily-clad old creepo I was half expecting. He’s just like any quiet-ish, friendly 40-something guy you’d meet in a café. He looks a bit like counsellor, and as it turns out he is. As he describes his journey into this work it is clear that he sees a real therapeutic benefit in it. He points out that those who identify with the world of kink have been shown to have better than average mental health indicators. He’s rather passionate about how kinky play can be used as a powerful personal development tool. It doesn’t take long for me to see why.