Sable Lê Võ

I was ten years old and risking punishment for sneaking out of my bedroom. Tiptoeing into the living room during the darkest hours of the night, I snagged a cigarette from my stepdad’s stash, tucking it away for later. I clicked the television on, making sure to mute the volume, and flipped to a late-night MTV program. Nestled in the glow of the silent screen, I was captivated by the sight of a person with shoulder-length hair, dressed only in white, cotton briefs, as they slowly entered a dark, concrete room furnished with a single item: a surgical steel table.

I held my breath and watched them lay on the table, arranging their limbs neatly and closing their eyes. A pair of hands would begin to wrap their feet in sticky plastic. The wrap stretched up their legs, then their waist, until the entire lower half of their body became one with the steely surface. Their torso gradually became encased, then their shoulders, neck, and finally, their head. They attempted to move side-to-side in a helpless sway before growing still.

I unmuted the volume, turning it up ever so slightly, pressing my ears against the speaker. I could hear labored breaths escape through a small hole in the plastic. They began to moan in fear, in helpless ecstasy.

I’ve wanted to be many things since that day: a sex therapist, a mortician, a chef, a dominatrix. And having become two of the four, a common thread has made itself clear to me: I have an intense fascination with interaction, vulnerability, the senses.

I have a healthy appetite for learning and seeing more, but my current fascination around BDSM is concerned with how kinky human relations provide containers for us to interact with wounds and memories, nurture buried parts of the Self, and feel and act really, really sexy.

And you? Who are you? What brings you here? What are you most afraid of? And when’s the last time you took a risk?

I am unafraid of my own depth, and overwhelmingly drawn to yours.

Come… Let’s play together.