Нелли Верховская Психолог, кандидат психологических наук Больше о нестандартных отношениях смотрите на моём YouTube-канале

Nelli Verkhovska PhD in Psychology For more on alternative relationships, check out my YouTube channel

Неллі Верховська Психологиня, кандидатка психологічних наук Більше про нестандартні стосунки дивіться на моєму YouTube-каналі

"I want the ugliest, scratchiest wool one, like something straight out of the 1990s."

"What do you need it for?"

Right. As if I’m about to explain that it’s for a submissive with a masturbatory fixation on being tortured by a woman wearing this exact accessory.

The coveted object was found in a place quite rare for modern Kyiv—the Troieshchyna market. It’s a ghost of an era before shopping malls existed, when supermarkets were just timidly sprouting, while the vibrant chaos of Chinese imports and exotic vendors was in full swing.

Nothing has changed there since. So this is where the bastion of stability lies!

The hallmark of fetishists is their demand for the crystal-clear execution of whatever triggers their impulses. And if it’s a balaclava from their childhood, a modern fleece substitute simply won't do. Ordering such a relic online was a bust, but there, in that labyrinth of market stalls, you can find absolutely anything. I'm sure it had just been gathering dust in a warehouse for the past thirty years, waiting for me to buy it.

And what did I do to the poor boy once I donned this armor? Why did I need hammers, chisels, and even a circular saw? Not to mention a police badge from a sex shop. Yes, truly obscene things went down in there.

By the way, the dog shock collar came in handy! A literal stun gun to the neck.

I decided against using such savagery on my precious Pukh. Once upon a time, I had a naive dream of teaching him obedience. But he's no German Shepherd; he's a stubborn polar Samoyed. And he is loved so fiercely that I'd rather bend over other pups with this harsh pedagogical stimulus... The ones I have no pity for.

A beautiful day! Long live unusual fetishes! And the talented artists (ah, I mean myself, of course) capable of bringing them to life.

Nelli Verkhovska PhD in Psychology For more on alternative relationships, check out my YouTube channel

Yet another sub slid into my DMs, desperate to scrub my floors (stark naked, obviously). Commendable, sure, but we need to chat first: letting a buck-naked stranger straight into my home is a rather dubious proposition.

"But I'll clean for free!"

"And I'll listen, for a fee, to exactly how you plan on doing it."

No, I’m not afraid this guy is going to rape me—their dicks are wired for something else entirely. What’s far more likely is that he’s a profoundly shitty cleaner. Often with these types, it’s: take your clothes off, grab a broom, and immediately blow your load just from the sheer thrill of it. And then who’s going to do the cleaning? The only way this works is a slow striptease, where he earns the right to take off a single sock only after scrubbing the toilet to a shine.

Another internet wanderer threw a tantrum, absolutely insisting that I was going to "ditch" him. Even if I had no intention of doing so... Well, why fight a person’s urge to feed their rejection trigger? People love to wallow; sometimes they’re even ready to kill anyone who dares to get in the way of their misery.

Yesterday, a polite bastard showed up. It’s a charming breed of guys who understand all too well that being an asshole comes at a high price. And if they ask for something outrageous and get shot down, they deftly maneuver from another angle. Good for them, it's clever—they don’t give you a single excuse to block them. A regular prick would have been told to go fuck himself instantly, but watching this one’s tricks was actually entertaining for a solid hour.

In the evening, I went down to the riverfront to walk with Pukh. The fading August sun flooded everything in a bright, brilliant light. A beautiful summer—thank you for shining on us.

Nelli Verkhovska PhD in Psychology For more on alternative relationships, check out my YouTube channel

Yet another eager specimen messaged me, completely hot and bothered by my ballbusting photos.

Right out of the gate, he dropped a massive wall of text detailing just how many questions he had... You could tell the guy was struggling to articulate himself—he was absolutely flustered.

"Let's book a session," I reply sweetly with my automated "letter of happiness"—the price list for my attention.

What followed was an almost theatrical pause, followed by pure outrage that I had the nerve to treat him like just another guy in the queue! He’s not like the rest.

Oh, but you are, baby boy. Exactly like the rest. Every single one of you. And that shouldn’t be insulting; if anything, it’s educational. If a man wants to stand out from the endless herd in my inbox, he actually needs a distinguishing factor. It takes more than just hovering at the doorstep, aggressively flashing your fetishes under the delusion that they hold some intrinsic value all on their own.

By the way, proper etiquette (and I accept nothing less) dictates that you only expose and shake things around when explicitly commanded to do so. That’s the whole point of knocking on the doors of the civilized BDSM world, rather than prowling a public park with your trench coat wide open. Out there under the trees, running feral, you might just pass for a stunning woodland nymph to a bunch of drunken hobos. But in civilized territory, you play by the rules. Do that, and you might actually spark some interest—once you're granted entry.

But while you’re still standing out in the cold, you better make sure your little serenade opens doors, rather than slamming them in your face and earning you a one-way ticket to the blocklist.

May universal wisdom be with us all—and may those who crave it get their balls thoroughly busted. Courtesy of the legs that find it wildly amusing.

Nelli Verkhovska PhD in Psychology For more on alternative relationships, check out my YouTube channel

No, you shouldn't bother proving that you didn't actually "screw him over." Assuming you’re not a shady general contractor, but a beautiful lady whose DMs have just been invaded by some self-important nobody galloping in on his high horse. That’s his entire game: to milk you for shocked or indignant justifications. It’s somewhat reminiscent of the battle cry of muggers or common street brawlers trying to dress up their assault in a righteous pretext:

"You're fucking my girl! I'll kick your ass!"

With "You played me," things are a bit different (by the way, there used to be a ridiculously catchy pop song with that exact hook)—they don't always have aggression tucked up their sleeves. Rather, it’s a compulsive urge to project their own guilt and watch the accused squirm.

This kink is trademark behavior for people who regularly scam others. And it doesn't even mean they are plagued by a guilty conscience; here, "conscience" is merely a prop—a signboard for brazenly trampled social norms. Like a "No Smoking" sign right under which addicts casually satisfy their smoky cravings.

So, when an accuser shows up to a session with a BDSM Mistress declaring that she once cruelly conned him, he’s just hoping to cop a free jerk-off from the sheer act of making the accusation. Getting off is crucial to him, of course, but the exact nature of the horrific suffering this victim allegedly endured should only be investigated after the session is paid in full. Handing out charity here is downright indecent.

Nelli Verkhovska PhD in Psychology For more on alternative relationships, check out my YouTube channel

"Mistress! Force me to pay in a voice note, treat me like a cheap slut!"

A complete stranger drops this into my inbox, fully expecting me to perform a whole emotional song and dance, desperate to eventually snatch that proverbial dangling carrot for my efforts.

It’s an old trick for driving draft animals: holding bait just out of reach of a miserable, starving beast of burden. The animal tries with all its might, lunging its whole body forward, dragging the cart and its tormentor along for free, without ever taking a bite of the prize.

Repulsive.

This exact trick for extracting themed benefits is highly popular in the BDSM sphere. The "client" gets off right then and there while the Mistress (the female dominant) screams or hisses obscenities, banking on the hope that he'll cough up the cash afterward... Spoiler alert: he won't.

Naturally, this earns a second, resounding "gross." And not directed at the woman—you can't blame a gorgeous girl for trying to make a living. At most, you can gently scold her for being naive and gullible. Men don't pay for what they can get for free. Besides, once he secures that vicious audio recording, he’ll have it on an endless loop. The freeloader himself, however, deserves a metaphorical skid mark slapped right across his forehead. It doesn't take a genius to guess why that specific color.

The worlds of BDSM are beautiful and multifaceted, largely because the practices are entirely consensual. For all participants: the terribly suffering slaves, the bottoms, the masochists, the fetishists... And for the formidable tops, the dominatrices, the Masters, and the Mistresses.

But trying to hustle someone for free thrills is just a pathetic scam (since there is no mutual consent). If getting off on fraud is his actual fetish, he needs to be charged a premium tariff for it.

…In her virtual office, the domination psychologist was meditatively sipping her chicory. Suddenly, a rider galloped through the DMs with wild shrieks, blazing guns, and a cloud of dust. Her little dog Pukh, resting on the rug by her feet, wagged his tail:

"Mistress, who was that?"

"Oh, that was Elusive Joe," she replied lazily.

"Is he really that elusive? Can no one catch him?"

"Nah, it's just that nobody gives a flying fuck about him."

Nelli Verkhovska PhD in Psychology For more on alternative relationships, check out my YouTube channel

"I want a playful Mistress! Laugh! Laugh at me!" he bounded around completely pantsless, desperate for a wild reaction.

No, he isn't a freak—provided this is unfolding during a session with a kink-friendly psychologist, rather than in a park in front of unsuspecting passersby. Exhibitionism is when a subject is hooked on the attention their naked body receives (it’s what triggers their absolute peak arousal).

A civilized fetishist seeks out consensual, negotiated arrangements for this. The primitive breed hunts for victims to flash their "treasures" in entirely inappropriate settings. Blasting out unsolicited dick pics falls squarely into this category.

"Laugh!"

The human psyche is a tree hung with all sorts of bizarre ornaments. Take the craving for mockery, for instance... But if we look at it from the audience's point of view, exactly how much fun is it to watch a naked guy flapping his junk around? Unless, of course, he is a burlesque master who has dedicated his entire life to the art of entertaining through this exact medium. Simply dropping your pants does not make you a comedian.

And herein lies the secret mechanism that guarantees the fully clothed play partner will find the show both hilarious and engaging: getting paid for the view. The fatter the check, the fiercer the enthusiasm. Conversely, forcing this spectacle on someone for free or for pocket change is repulsive and risky—people don’t call the cops on street flashers to demand an encore.

Remember: a free exhibition is just public indecency, but a generously funded one transforms you into a beloved, highly anticipated maestro. Put a premium price on your props.

Nelli Verkhovska PhD in Psychology For more on alternative relationships, check out my YouTube channel