Guest blog: My clown kink brings me joy

Image courtesy of Harley

I absolutely adore guest posts about specific kinks and fetishes – I love hearing what it is about a particular object, character or tone that turns someone on. The more niche it is, the better, as I can delve into the intricacies of what makes a particular thing hot, and find correlations with what turns me on too. So I’m delighted to welcome Harley@hypno_harlequin on Twitter – to talk about her clown kink. What is it about clowning that appeals? And why does Harley think you could benefit from embracing your inner clown occasionally…?

My clown kink brings me joy

Clowns are not scary.

I realize that by saying that, I’ve already scared off half of this column’s readers. But I had to say it. See, to me, clowns are massively attractive.

I have a clown kink and exploring that kink has helped me feel so much better about my body and my desires.

Like any kid, I saw a lot of clowns growing up. They were on TV, at disappointing birthday parties, and sometimes a circus would roll through town. I liked them. I found them funny. Though far too often, my brain was focused on the other circus acts. Sure, the clowns were funny, but they were not flying through the air on a trapeze.

But aside from those brief events, I didn’t really give clowns much thought.

Kink and self-consciousness

Years later, when I first joined the kink space, I felt out of place. I was very conscious of my body. I came in with the idea that kink was for “pretty” people, for people who always looked their best.

I didn’t feel comfortable in “sexy” clothes. The idea of revealing my skin felt alien, almost as if the mere sight of my naked elbows would make everyone run out of the room screaming.

I also didn’t feel like I fit in as a domme. Fiction and pornography had taught me that dommes were giants clad in latex. They were always firm and in control.

But yet, I didn’t fit in as a sub either. I wasn’t one to sit back and let things happen to me. I can’t go thirty minutes without making a dumb joke, let alone a whole kink scene.

I felt more at home in the silly than the serious. Because of that, it felt like the kink scene just wasn’t for me.

But I persisted. I spent ages trying to work out what was missing, to find out what wasn’t clicking for me.

Colour, clothes and clown porn

I spent some time trying to find kink clothing that I felt comfortable wearing.

My first port of call was looking for something that was bright and colorful. I had never been a fan of the dour blacks and reds that had dominated most kink spaces, and I hoped that by finding outfits with more color, I would be able to find my place.

I spent hours going down rabbit holes, looking for outfits that screamed out to me… until I stumbled upon clown porn.

It was a revelation! Like a puzzle piece clicking into place.

In some ways, adult me fell in love with clowns for the same reason young me used to enjoy them: they were bringers of chaos and laughter. They were confident but not cold. They broke rules and embraced their inner chaos.

From that moment on, I was hooked.

Clown kink: embracing my inner clown

Clowns are transgressive.

They exist outside of normal structures. A clown’s job is to break the rules so that they can poke fun at them. By embracing my inner clown, I was able to jump outside of the rules that had previously been restraining me. I was able to pick outfits that were bright and colorful. Things that, while over the top, made the visual parts of my brain happy.

Clowns are expected to be silly. They are expected to break the rules. For me, this was very freeing. I could just be me: normal, fun-loving me. Not a dominatrix with a riding crop, nor a mewling sub who could tremble on command.

I could be Harley, the goof-ball who loves to make people smile. Who ends every paragraph with a terrible pun.

The costumes also made me feel wonderful. The facepaint acted like a mask that let me hide my nerves and shyness while also giving me another way to express my creativity. But it wasn’t just my face. Clown kink helped me see my whole body as a canvas, even if it wasn’t a perfect one.

See, clowns are not expected to be perfect, but they don’t hide their flaws. In fact, most clowns deliberately play up their flaws, making them a big part of their comic character.

Accepting this allowed me to look at my personal body issues differently. They’re not flaws to be hated, but part of my personal comedy. They’re something that can be adored because they’re a little off.

And you don’t need to have a clown kink yourself to get the benefits from this in your own sex life.

Bringing clown kink (and the circus) into your bedroom

Embracing your inner-clown in the bedroom doesn’t mean that you need to learn to unicycle or buy a box of rubber chickens. I would argue the core of clown kink is having fun.

Embrace your silliness and your strangeness! Indulge in bright colors and let yourself be you unfettered by rules.

Rejoice and frolic as you dress to reflect yourself as opposed to the orders of modern society. Let go of your serious ideas of kink and enjoy a little bit of silliness.

The simple act of dressing up and being silly with another person, making jokes and playing silly pranks, is the perfect way to look at kink in a more fun-loving and creative way.

But, if you want to involve the rubber chickens, they do make excellent spanking implements…


  • Oxyfromsg says:

    Although not a fan of clowns, I can fully embrace the idea of bringing silliness into link.

  • SpaceCaptainSmith says:

    Mmm, very much so! I’ve always though kink should be about play and having fun. Much to agree with here.

    And while I’ve never previously thought of clowns as particularly sexy, this post does now also make me very curious to see Harley’s outfits. :)

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