This article contains graphic descriptions of rape and sexual assault.
As part of her new documentary series on ITVX, Laura Whitmore investigates the rise in rough sex – and its lethal consequences. She spoke to Kim Slater, who has first-hand experience of how rough sex and BDSM can be used to inflict sexual violence against women. Here, she shares her story with GLAMOUR…
When I was 24, I became single for the first time as an adult and was excited to explore the world of dating. I met a really great guy who was into BDSM and was incredibly knowledgeable about the practice and community. BDSM is an acronym for bondage and discipline, domination and submission, sadism and masochism. Through talking to him, I learned about some of the key elements of BDSM — consensual power play, dom/sub dynamics, role-playing, restraint, and sensation, and the myriad reasons people enjoy these activities.
I knew that I couldn’t rely on someone else to be my kink educator and that I needed to proactively learn more about the practice and figure out my own preferences and boundaries. I realised that impact play — which involves hitting or being hit with an object in a safe and consensual way — wasn’t for me. I didn’t like anything involving pain, but I really enjoyed power play.
Leading up to the assault, I was still very new to this world. I’d had a couple of partners who knew a lot about BDSM. I’d had a safe space to explore and they had empowered me to go away and learn more. But I was just at the beginning of my self-education journey.
On a night out with a friend, I decided to take a guy home that I’d met that night. On the night in question, I was upset about something that had happened that day and I ended up getting quite drunk. When we got back to mine, we started hooking up.
Initially, it was consensual, but five minutes into it, I burst into tears and withdrew consent. Up until that point, the sex was rough, and he had been pushing me against the wall. If I had been of sound mind, I’d have told him to slow down and check in a bit more. It got to the point where I was crying, and I realised in that moment I regretted my decision to bring this guy home. At first, he was comforting; he stroked my back, and asked me what was wrong. Then something switched and he pushed me down on the bed. He started choking me; he put his hand over my mouth because I was still crying and asking him to stop.
“I realised quite quickly that it was more dangerous for me to carry on fighting him, so I lay there and waited for him to get it over with.”
He actually punched me in the face. I realised quite quickly that it was more dangerous for me to carry on fighting him, so I lay there and waited for him to get it over with. He removed the condom without my consent — which is also rape — and I got gonorrhoea from it.
After it was over, he slept next to me and woke up beside me the next morning, acting completely normal. He treated me like I was his girlfriend, and even tried to kiss me on the cheek before saying goodbye. It blows my mind how delusional people can be about their own character and their own actions.
There's no doubt at all in my mind: this was rape. But, I think if you’d got his version of events, despite him choking me and literally punching me in the face and leaving a bruise, he would not see it that way. This guy was clearly never a part of the BDSM scene. If he had been, there would have been strict consent and safety protocols in place, communication about boundaries, safe words, and aftercare.
In the immediate aftermath, once he’d left, I just sat in shock with my friend. We just looked at each other a couple of times, thinking, ‘Did that actually happen?’ By the afternoon, I got a plan together: I arranged to speak to my therapist and made an appointment to go to the sexual health clinic to get checked out. As a precaution, they gave me PEP (post-exposure prophylaxis for HIV) — a treatment that can stop an HIV infection after the virus has entered a person’s body.
“Consent is ongoing and can be withdrawn at any point.”
I decided not to report the rape to the police — I felt there was absolutely no way I was going to get support from the criminal justice system in this case. I needed to deal with this by myself. I feel fortunate to have had my therapist who supported me through this.
It took a long time for my body to recover from the shock of it. I took a fair amount of time off dating, I took some time off BDSM. But it never put me off the scene. If anything, I feel safer in the BDSM scene because you are allowed to go in with your list of boundaries, and you're not deemed a prude; you’re deemed experienced. I feel like they are my people; they are my community.
Consent is ongoing and can be withdrawn at any point. In the moment the rape happened, I knew it wasn't my fault. I had given consent at the outset but later withdrew that consent and he had disregarded that and carried on regardless, harming me in ways that had not been negotiated or discussed prior.
The stigma around the BDSM community is really strong. What happened to me was not consensual rough sex or BDSM — it was sexual violence, full stop.
The way I think about it is: sex without consent is rape. It's not sex. BDSM without consent is violence and assault. It's not BDSM.
As told to Rachel Thompson, author of Rough: How violence has found its way into the bedroom and what we can do about it.
Laura Whitmore Investigates is available to stream on ITVX.
For more information about reporting and recovering from rape and sexual abuse, you can contact Rape Crisis on 0808 500 2222.
If you have been sexually assaulted, you can find your nearest Sexual Assault Referral Centre here. You can also find support at your local GP, voluntary organisations such as Rape Crisis, Women's Aid, and Victim Support, and you can report it to the police (if you choose) here.
A documentary asks: Can you really consent to the risk of being killed?
