A few days ago, I had a chat with several college students, and on a whim, I asked how they, as the younger generation, view BDSM.

One of the guys mentioned that, among other things, several guys he knew generally believed that adding an “S” at the end of their nickname on social apps made it much easier to get laid.

Another girl said it was truly difficult to find a compatible playmate. Although it seemed like there were plenty of “S” types around, most of them were fake. They would chat half-heartedly for a bit before quickly steering the conversation towards sex.

There are even numerous “quick methods to become a dominant” available online, showing you everything from setting up your profile picture to choosing your outfit for a meetup.

  1. Your profile picture should be that of a ‘suit and tie’ guy, but with the top button casually undone, and it must be in black and white.
  2. Your nickname should always end with “Mr. XXX” or “XXX-S”.
  3. It doesn’t matter if you don’t know some professional terms; just remember that terms starting with “S” represent the dominant, “dirty talk” means insulting someone, and “SP” means hitting.
  4. Delete all previous social media posts and simply forward content from insiders; it’s okay if you don’t understand it.
  5. Finally, post a few photos including your watch and steering wheel, and if you have a chest, show off your pecs.

This reminds me of when I was explaining the roles of “dom” and “sub” and someone corrected me in the comments, saying that “sub” starts with an “S,” so obviously, the sub is the master.

At the time, I thought someone was making a joke, but I didn’t expect that the “crash course” would actually teach this.

It’s hard to imagine how these “students” would interpret the term “sb” (which sounds like a derogatory term in Chinese).

The existence of these crash courses actually reflects an impatient, utilitarian mindset that some people have when making friends.

When I was in college, I also signed up for a similar piano crash course for 300 yuan, which taught you to play a simple song of your choice in an afternoon.

This was very appealing to me at the time because the biggest pain point for male college students is the lack of a skill to show off in front of the opposite sex, thereby failing to gain priority in the mating game.

Playing the piano is undoubtedly synonymous with “elegance” and “elitism.”

Imagine, when the campus belle says that she likes Jay Chou’s songs, my competitors can only say, “I’ll set it as your ringtone,” while I can say, “Let me play it for you!” What a dimensional strike that would be!

So, I excitedly paid and went to class. The content of the course was very simple; there was no fingering, music theory, or sheet music, just pure rote memorization until it triggered the most primitive muscle memory.

I remember the teacher told me, “Just remember which key to start from, left to right, and then play according to your memory.”

I hesitated for a moment and asked, “Isn’t it a bit silly to count each time? I suspect you’re deceiving me, wasting my money?”

The teacher patted me on the shoulder and said in a deep voice, “What’s a waste? A man, spending money to enrich his skills, is never a waste; it’s an investment!”

Many years later, I heard the same phrase again in a strange insurance sales call, where the person passionately tried to sell me insurance, and I asked if he had also taken a crash piano course on a sunny afternoon.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, followed by a distant complaint from the other party to their colleague, “Damn, another poor musician, all for nothing.”

For a while after learning, I felt quite good about myself, itching to play the piano in the mall, fantasizing about saying to a future girlfriend, “My dear, let me play a piece for you!” as I sat down gracefully next to the piano.

Occasionally, I would also face eviction by security guards, saying that the piano in the mall wasn’t allowed to be played. My heart was filled with contempt, “Humph, people who don’t understand music are always so boring.”

Until I met Wang Tiezhu, who was overjoyed to hear that I could play the piano, as she had been learning the violin since childhood.

She asked if I had perfect pitch, and I said, “Ah? Perfect what? Er, I have to criticize you; you must understand that there are very few absolute things in the world.”

She then hummed a random note and asked me what key it was, and I replied, “Ah? What key? Could it be… a soprano?”

Then our conversation fell into a long silence.

In summary, after that day, I never dared to mention my piano studies again. I was thoroughly humiliated by Wang Tiezhu, almost considered a fraud, and nearly lost a good playmate.

That day, I learned a lesson: utilitarian crash courses may let you eat a meal that’s not fully cooked, but one day you will suffer the consequences, as only you know the pain in your stomach at night.

Of course, there are many people who don’t consider the aftereffects.

For example, I’ve seen people say that they’ve achieved their goal after a single encounter, not caring about how the other person evaluates whether they’re a real or fake “S.” After all, they’ll just find someone new next time.

This has to some extent led to a chaotic and mixed crowd in the current dating scene.

There are stories of people pretending to be “M” types to swindle these “instant S” types out of money, stories of people who’ve met so-called “instant S” types who have no respect, no understanding of consent, and no knowledge of how hard to hit, resulting in injury, and even a gray industry chain that mass-produces these “instant S” accounts to scam “M” types out of money.

Previously, under a similar TikTok account, I saw a comment saying, “Wow, seeing these muscles, I’m already imagining having a baby with him in my mind.”

Another comment replied, “You want to have a baby with him, but he’s only after your body.”

It’s a crude but true statement: there are no quick fixes in this world.

Of course, it’s not that there can’t be crash courses for S or M types.

I always thought that the so-called BDSM crash course was about mastering the skills to protect oneself and others in the most complex dating environments in the shortest possible time, so that one can “get out unscathed” when absolutely necessary, rather than becoming a piece of meat ready to be slaughtered on the table in the shortest time, which would be no different from a chicken that’s sent to market in 20 days.

So, I hope to see in a crash course:

  • How to effectively seek the other person’s consent?
  • How to respect the other person, even if they are an “M” type?
  • How to set up effective safe words to protect each other?
  • How to clearly express refusal when you don’t like something?
  • How to effectively gather evidence to protect yourself when you are violated?

I hope that one day, we will hear that it’s not easier to get a date because your nickname ends with an “S,” but rather that people who know how to respect each other and behave with propriety are more likely to make friends.

Also, please do not believe in any online crash courses. Trust and understanding between people cannot be rushed; only time can provide the answers.

After all, I still remember when Wang Tiezhu told me, “It’s just like when I asked someone who claimed to be an ‘S’ what ‘SP’ meant, and they said it was ‘see p’ (look at P). After you said ‘soprano,’ I almost blocked you. Really, it was that close.”

By Anthony

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