I have created various play spaces over the years, including dedicated and overambitious parties that required hundreds of hours of planning and preparation, focused rituals that used repetition and protocol to direct attention, and erotic temples that guided communal ‘energy flow’ with suggestive music and a hypnotic voice. Sometimes, I blended elements of these different types of experiences to shape what I call an in-between space, an alternate reality for participants to explore. However, there is another approach that I find equally compelling: helping people shape themselves into symbols.

A similar example is traditional fetish parties, where attendees are informed of the materials, uniforms, or styles that are welcomed. One of my first erotic experiences of deviance was at the Scandinavian Leather Men (SLM) club, where they very clearly explained what kind of men they wanted, such as the rubber gimp, the military man, the sports jock, the schoolboy etc. Each type had its dress code, with some parties being beginner-friendly and others requiring a more extensive wardrobe. These dress codes serve as a filter to decide who fits in and who doesn’t, to see who belongs to what lifestyle, community, or subculture. However, adhering to the dress code also changes one’s sense of self, if one allows that to happen. This, I find most fascinating.

I remember a friend in Berlin receiving a sixteen foot kangaroo leather whip for his birthday from his wife. It was made with the finest craftsmanship and probably cost at least 500 euros. But it’s also an incredibly hard tool to master that requires lots of training and physical space (because it’s so long). It also cannot be used every day because the experience is harsh, and the bruising can take weeks to heal. Using this whip is therefore somewhat of a ritual. It also interests me from a consent point of view because it becomes hard to back out from when the occasion is so unique—a little bit like running a marathon. I have another memory of a similar whip being used, also in Berlin, in an underground catacomb. A naked body tiptoeing, hung by the wrist. When the whip cracked, the sound exploded in space, echoing off the walls and stunning the surrounding audience into awe. Here we witnessed how an object can alter the people and space around it.

An Object Of The Gods

This is what happens when an object becomes a fetish. Mythologically, a fetish is an object of the gods. Therefore, it is often forbidden to be used by mere mortals. Only to be worshipped. Its only function is to change who you are. Or in spiritual terms, it becomes deprived of its human function and becomes an instrument which puts you into contact with god.

In psychology, fetishism refers to a sexual attraction towards inanimate objects or body parts that are not typically considered sexual. Examples include shoes and feet. For it to be considered pathological, the fetish must be necessary for sexual function. However, it’s common to use the term ‘fetish’ to describe a casual obsession with a material, such as leather or latex. In my opinion, the term ‘kink’ is a more accurate description in this case.

Pathological fetishism can be viewed from a mythological perspective as the object depriving the individual of their ability to connect intimately, engage in sexual activity, and reproduce. Instead, the fetish becomes the focus of a god-like relationship that includes spiritual, sadomasochistic, and erotic elements. This may include submitting to an object or even becoming the object oneself, such as by fully enclosing oneself in leather.

Becoming A Communal Object Of Worship

A fetish party could be seen as a communal act of worship, similar to dancing together to techno beats while dressed in latex and sliding oh-so-closely together on silicone lube and sweat into an ecstatic state.

So when preparing for a ritual or a play scene, I think the primary focus should be on allowing the clothing, toys and symbols to transform who you are, much like the architecture of the space is designed to do. In spiritual circles, this is often referred to as creating sacred space. It’s an invitation to slow down and feel the transformation happening. This is what people envision when they enter the Eyes Wide Shut party – the top fantasy – putting on a Venetian carnival mask and becoming a godly and mysterious lover for the night. However, fetishes can also limit the possibilities for interaction. That’s the point – they both force and guide. When I put on the thigh-high leather boots, I can no longer make pancakes at home. Of course I could, but then it would be a bizarre comedy scene, just like if my friend were to bring out the sixteen feet kangaroo leather whip, then cuddling would be off the radar. This makes the fetish both a dedication and an obsession.

In a play space, when people dress in designed outfits and select symbolic items, it changes how they form relationships because they see each other in a different way. This creates a symbiosis and an awareness that must be cultivated – how one sees oneself, relates to others, and places oneself in space. When I enter a play space, I enter as someone else. Maintaining everyday social relations doesn’t fit because the person in a play space is different from their everyday persona, like Andy, the reader of books, connoisseur of hot saunas and fine coffee.

I think one should cultivate this skill of ‘being fetish’ by collecting and selecting things based on how they affect one’s identity. Can a whip be both ‘a toy’ and a fetish object simultaneously? I don’t know. According to my friend with the kangaroo leather birthday present, the more he mastered that whip, the more and more it became a casual item, just another instrument in his toy bag. In ritual magick, there is a concept of charging items of magical use to give them meaning, make them unique, and turn them into a fetish – not of the gods, but of one’s own fantasies and desires.

40 

Standard Edition. Paperback. 499 pages.


20 

80Mb 7-day digital download. 499 pages.

It took forever, but my book is finally available—either as a printed paperback or a downloadable PDF. Watch the trailer on the left!

Dear unknown friend, to access the adult-rated material you must create a free account and log in. This is due to social media and their algorithms. Sorry for the inconvenience.

FIRST PARADOX

BEING AND DOING

SECOND PARADOX

SELF-SACRIFICE

AND SELFISHNESS

THIRD PARADOX

SELFISHNESS AND

HOLDING SPACE

FOURTH PARADOX

UNITY AND POLARITY

FIFTH PARADOX

SYMBOLS AND REALITY

FIRST RITUAL

SUBMISSION

SECOND RITUAL

DEVOTION

THIRD RITUAL

REJECTION

FOURTH RITUAL

DESIRE

FIFTH RITUAL

DEATH

“M”

Rituals and paradoxes- the intimacy of belonging in sadomasochism and esoteric eroticism by Andy Buru.

“Take my hand, follow me, be not scared, I got you”

“You do not need another guru, do not follow the man with a beard”- the words echoe in my mind when I start reading “Ritual and paradoxes- the intimacy of belonging in sadomasochism and esoteric eroticism” by Andy Buru, professional Japanese rope bondage practionner/teacher: besides almost being named guru, he indubitably takes a position of authority by publishing himself, and considering the subject matter and that I do in fact have some first hand experience of Andy (double-entendre intended) – should I not be a bit scared and keep distance?

Drawing from his extensive experience as teacher, body worker and personal life, Andy approaches the subject through a set of paradoxes that are defining sadomasochism, or “eroticization of pain and power”. These paradoxes create polarities which sadomasochism explores through careful and compassionate play with the inherent tensions that varies between individuals and the power dynamics of ”dominant/submissive”. The resulting book, a solid block of nearly 500 pages, reaches however far beyond an introduction into bdsm, a guidebook, or a collection of personal reflections.

Instead, the aim is to bring attention on esoteric qualities of sadomasochism, as in the ritualization of sexuality towards enlightenment or union with God/Divine. Sadomasochism, with its inherent polarities, has according to the author a high potentiality to address deeper needs usually associated with spirituality, such as belonging, submission, self-sacrifice, and devotion, which according to the narrative are not promoted in our pleasure-seeking western societies (“joy joy lala land”) that mostly focus on achievement and selfishness, on “doing”. The sadomasochism that Andy presents and cultivates provide thus as a contrast a safe playground to discover or further dive into meaningful and transformational states of being.

So what am I holding in my hands? First of all I cannot hinder to be seduced by the format and structure. After all, the presentation is significant when your topic is rituals, and the writing project in itself is introduced as mystic for the author: a compact volume beautifully segmented all in black and white by the paradoxes that define sadomasochism, visually chaptering the thought in numbered lemmas/verses, accompanying poetic lines followed by a clear, straightforward prose, occasionally punctuated by Andy Buru’s warm humour, at the rhythm of sneak peaks into his very intimate (at times thick and sick) diary. Abstract concepts are both cleverly illustrated and made tangible through illustrations and a selection of tastefully curated photographies taken by the author himself during his sessions, seducing with their raw beauty and display authentic vulnerability.

“Rituals and Paradoxes” is a companion to anyone’s own paths of self-/collective exploration- practical or intellectual. Andy Buru acts as a Virgilius, not taking down seven levels of hell as one might associate sadomasochism to, but truly accompanying the reader on a journey. His written edifice is a temple where the dark meanders of eros find light and love, in which the paradoxes are pillars and a room for rituals are formed/performed, and where the self is absorbed in the community. Pushing the comparison further, one might find that the fragments of experience that Andy Buru shares, at moment heavy and intense as incense, are counterparts of the vibrant paintings hanging in the side-choirs of a baroque church. (The dramatic lives of saints and martyrs, full of suffering and self-sacrifice, are after all early tangents to the world of bdsm).

The Reading of “Rituals and Paradoxes” could be an invitation into a sacred place with many shrines and as such be decisive or it may stay at the level of a mere tour, an exotic sight-seeing of deviancy and perversion, depending on maturity and receptiveness of the reader. One anecdote from the book (or should I qualify it as a votive picture in adoration for the Japanese culture and to which the author is so indebted?) may provide some evidence of the author’s expectations on the reader: a flower arrangement school in Japan, where everyone gets the degree, but you would, by paying proper attention, be aware of if you actually got to the deeper sense or not.

I think that the strength of the book comes from this sensible approach, where the mystery, despite being unfold for us and made available in words, by the end of the day needs to be “felt” as well, or to paraphrase the first paradox, “to be”. Regardless of your previous experience in bdsm or more generally within sex, or your degree of self-knowledge, the book has nonetheless something essential to offer as an invitation to discover or further explore the vast inner universe that is yourself and your sexuality, but also, by making you sensible to the esoteric dimensions involved in bdsm and thus to elevate your practice to a profoundly metaphysical act.

Yes, Andy, maybe I will take your hand, and follow you, I am not scared, you got me.