Fetish Friday: Your Kinky Divorce

Welcome to Fetish Friday on Lawyers & Liquor, where we talk about the world of sexual fetish and, really, anything sexually inclined at all.  I’m your host the BDSM Barrister, inviting all of you to break out the ballgags and sit there like the good little pieces of worthless filth you are as we talk this month about the implications of your kink on your divorce.  That’s right, as we’ve discussed before even if you’re referred to as the slave in the bedroom and the strangely leather-clad basement dungeon, there’s absolutely no reason that you can’t file for a divorce from your dominatrix.  And, despite what some people who abuse their kinks would like you to think, there’s absolutely nothing that they can do to stop you!

However, when we’re talking about groups of people whose inclinations may run from the degrading of themselves all the way up to literally drawing blood for sexual fulfillment, and when the kink isn’t just something that happens in the bedroom but something that is more of a lifestyle, divorce, like scat play, can get pretty goddamn messy.  Of course I’m not going to talk about the cases today where things went well, am I?  Nope.  I’m going to talk about the shit that happens when two kinksters that were once in love decide that they want to seek the ultimate pain fetish and submit themselves to the jurisdiction of the local family court!  So hook up the alligator clips and let’s get this ball rolling!

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Fetish Friday: Polyamory and the Law Part 1 – Legal Issues of Tricycles

It’s Fetish Friday here on Lawyers & Liquor, the time of the month where we pop ball gags in the willing mouths of the audience and start lecturing them about legal issues related to kinks, fetishes, and, in general, things that have a sexual or romantic flair to them. Why? Because that’s my thing, man! I am a “pedantic legalist kinkster” and I really get my rocks off reciting statutory provisions to a guy in a gimp suit. Don’t you judge me.

Before we lube up enough that every surface becomes a slip and slide, though, I want to be really clear about something with this month’s discussion: Some of the stuff I talk about here isn’t a kink or a fetish. It’s a lifestyle or a form of romantic partnership. The reason this stuff pops up in the “Fetish Friday” section is simply because I love alliteration, and in case you haven’t noticed the names of the other Friday posts aren’t always on point. So before you people lose your shit all over me, I want you to grasp the fact that I’m not calling polyamory or non-monogamy a de facto kink. Today I’m just talking about what happens when a person loves a person…and another person…and another person…all at the same time and they’ve decided to live together as a family unit.

So, you know, put away the bats and shit, unless that’s your thing. I’m not here to pick a fight with polyamorists. Even if I was, you guys have me outnumbered by at least 3-to-1, so I’d be pretty goddamned screwed, wouldn’t I?

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Divorce Clients Suck: Why I Don’t Practice Family Law.

Generally there are two types of people in this world.  There are those who look forward to February 14th and the option to spend time with their sweetheart, feeling happy and in love.  Then there are guys like me, who prefer to spend this day in a miserable funk that, at some point tonight, we will transfer to other people.  Maybe we go to a local bar and send drinks to one-half of a couple trying to stir shit up, or maybe we just sit behind a computer screen with a glass of whiskey, a pack of cigarettes, and a strong desire to suck every ounce of joy out of this holiday for people.  In either case, it’s pretty goddamn clear that we aren’t fans of Valentine’s Day.

I’m not anti-love.  I just present my wedding gift as follows to recently married couples:  “Congratulations.  In five years I’ll do your wills or your divorce for free.”  I don’t get invited to dinner very much after that.

You know who must love Valentine’s Day, though?  Family lawyers.  All over the country tonight people are going to rush into a hastily planned engagement, leading to a hastily planned marriage, a soul-crushing series of mindless years spent wondering why you tolerate the son of a bitch in your bed, and finally the divorce.  The long, drawn-out, bitter divorce process.  Oh the hours you’ll bill when love turns cold.

Not me, however, because I don’t take family cases.  Why don’t I take family cases?  Well, let’s talk about this.

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