Sex No One Thinks About Sex in the Suburbs
posted by March 2 at 11:52 AMon
Also in today’s New York Times, a story about a story about a professional dominatrix. What makes this particular domme attention-worthy, according to the NYT, is the location of her dungeon: the upscale, tony, horsey suburb of Bedford Hills, New York, where Ralph Lauren, Glenn Close, and Martha Stewart also have homes.
Apart from the phalanx of reporters and photographers, the only hint that something was a little odd about the charming old clapboard farmhouse on Haines Road was the black cloth hanging across the second-floor windows, blotting out the sun filtering down through lofty pines.
It was what happened behind those curtains that set the place apart: “Situated on four private acres, in a century old stately manor, here life is devoted to female superiority, proper training and etiquette for the betterment of men,” read the description on sovereignestate.com, a Web site.
The house, as nearly everyone in this genteel town now knows, was occupied by a 46-year-old reputed dominatrix, Sandra L. Chemero, who was arrested on Tuesday on charges of prostitution and weapons possession, accused of running a brothel, not just a chamber of horrors, amid the sylvan splendor.
Chamber of horrors? Puh-leeze. The only horrific thing about Chemero’s operation was her property tax bill. BDSM is a mainstream fetish these days, positively benign compared to many of the once-obscure sexual tastes. The ability of the Internet to create “fetish communities” out of what were, at one time, rare and obscure fetishes. On the kink-o-meter BDSM falls somewhere between boring and oral these days.
But it was this comment, given by one of Chemero’s neighbors, that caught my eye…
“The mailman, who goes there every day, he didn’t even know about it,” said Mario C. Chiacchia, who owns a service station down the road. “Around here, you don’t even think about things like that.”
Yeah… right. No one in the ‘burbs thinks about kinky sex. I’d like to see that statement backed up with a little evidence, please. Perhaps we could subpoena the browser histories on every computer in Bedford Falls—just to make sure that no one in horse country is using their riding crops for anything, you know, horrific.