Are You A Kindsexual? How to Brothel

Luna Robbie
Oct 3
7 min read

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One of my courtesan superpowers? I'm a kindsexual.

Unless we’re already friends or you’ve listened to my podcast, you may not have heard of this term, which I seem to have made up—and I might be biased, but I think you might agree it is useful.

Not only does it describe my own sexuality, the concept of kindsexuality invites us to ask ourselves helpful questions like:

What is kindness?

What kind of kind do we want to be?

What kind of kindness are we actually attracted to?

Below, I share the cool parts, the not-so-great parts, and the hottest parts. But first:

MY DEFINITION

Kindsexuality centers the behaviors and interpersonal dynamics of a potential partner as the primary source of attraction.

I first used it as a joke to describe the awareness of wetness in my panties I experienced when witnessing a kind-hearted act. I noticed that such kindness would inspire a fantasy of thanking them in generous mouth-related ways to reward and appreciate such good behavior.

While I could happily be categorized as bi (attracted to more than one gender), pan (attracted to a person, regardless of gender) and omni (attracted to a person, with awareness of their gender) or even polysexual (attracted to people of multiple genders), it feels most accurate to create a more specific term under the umbrella of multisexuality to capture how behavior and connection make me swoon.

WHY IT’S HOT

One of my favorite things about having different lovers is getting to experience distinct energies and co-create a shared experience that is unique to us—and kindness is the spark that lights that flame.

When I witness an act of kindness from one human to another, I feel a curiosity around what connecting further with that energy might be like. It took me many, many years to understand why friends called me flirty—it brings me genuine pleasure and great excitement to have a nice interaction with a kind stranger, in the same way I used to get so very truly excited to bring my patrons a glass of water so they could hydrate when I was a bartender.

As a service-oriented human, I get especially excited to reward other service-oriented humans.

And if that kindness is pointed at me? I’ve been known to do things like invite strangers I meet on the street up to my place or hop in the car with a guy I just met on the flight to Brazil and his buddy, or say yes to a sudden, last-minute trip to Argentina.

To summarize: When I feel a great vibe, I become extremely aroused in a powerful way.

And because I am so highly curious and sex is already my favorite activity, I feel inclined to do my favorite activity (especially when aroused) with my new kindfriend to see what we might create, how it feels when our energies mix, and to enjoy connecting on a deeper level.

My kindsexuality has led me to some truly magical places—but we know superpowers come with superresponsibilities.

The problem is, my filtration system is pretty medium-low sometimes, and it took me years of fumbling through unsatisfying connections to realize I was allowing my desire to lead me into situations I would not consciously choose for myself.

KIND OF A TRAP

As it turns out, I am completely susceptible to fake niceness and flattery.

First let me say: I did not realize how often people lie, and continue to be surprised by this more often than I’d like to admit. For similar reasons, I am almost always surprised by sarcasm.

And because I grew up in a household where we enjoyed showing each other kindness and love, it never occurred to me that, for some people, kindness is a thing to feign to get a need met.

It was not until the later part of my twenties that I went down the sex, relationships and communication research rabbit hole, and this is when I started to realize that the patterns I’d been co-creating were ultimately unhelpful if my goal was to connect.

While I’ve spoken with many people who ended up seriously committed to a partner they met in fling mode, I found myself on a merry-go-round of feeling like a disrespected booty call over and over again (the degradation kink was undiscovered but so loud even in unconsciousness).

I’d enjoy dates that focused on intense lovemaking, balanced out by intense amounts of alone time in which I could focus on my creative work. I did not understand the trust-building and nonsexual ways of connecting intimately that build a bond of partnership.

Growing up, I learned that everyone has value, everyone has something to offer—and my literal brain took this lesson a little too far. I am now able to discern that, even if everyone has value, just because someone is in my vicinity and I am excited I met them does not necessarily mean they need to be invited into my most personal circles.

Like the writer I dated for a couple weeks and asked to cat sit at my place (I came home to a lot of guns in my house and a lot of cat poop to clean up). Or the physical therapist I once upon a time flirted with outside the building where I used to have therapy—he offered me discounted sessions when I was healing from a sprained ankle (things got real inappropriate real fast). Or the photographer I thought was my friend who took his condom off without telling me.

Years later, reflecting on all of these interpersonal learnings would help me upgrade my definition of kindness.

THE UPLEVEL

As I update my definition of what it means to be kind, I notice the quality of connections rising—and I live in a world of turn-on because…everyone is so kind!

Lately, if someone stokes my kindsexual nature enough to be invited into my innermost circles, usually:

They are clear.
Their actions match their words.
They want to get it right instead of be right.
They are direct, open, reasonably self-aware, and adept at repair.
They are thoughtful, genuinely caring, and make an effort to communicate.
There is a willingness to be mutually vulnerable and to do our best to take care of each other.
They are people who are safe to be with, and people who are very fun to play with. I can be my regular unguarded self with them.

For me, this is a panty-dampening nip-plumping list.

Where I’d previously defined kind as “anyone who is nice to me,” my current understanding could be summarized by this simple question:

Does their behavior show that they value the humanity around them?

I observe how someone might treat a hostess or a bartender, how they talk to their friends, and how they treat themselves. How do they choose to move through the world? How consistent are they? How do they collaborate? Do we have enough values in common to agree what kind is?

This level of clarity has helped me recognize a deliciously fulfilling home for my kindsexuality.

A KINDSEXUAL SEX WORKER?

As a legal courtesan, there is a level of mutual clarity around the value of the exchange that I haven’t found anywhere else.

Clear is kind, and for me, clarity is hot.

Once in my early years of adulthood, I discovered a block schedule time management tool I was excited to try out, and this led to my discovery that I was actively casually dating-ish fourteen different people.

The concepts of polyamory and non-monogamy would not make their way into my consciousness for a handful of years, but I remember part of me wondering if I should be better at filtering, and another part of me swooning because they were each so nice and interesting and hot in their own way.

But it started to feel like a lot of effort for connections that seemed to stagnate instead of grow.

By my mid-twenties, I was focused on finding partners who really valued sex. Before I discovered kink, I was pointed towards sugar dating websites. I didn’t realize I was stepping into a hotbed of social games and maneuvering that are my kind of kindsexual’s worst nightmare. Let’s just say that many of my attempts to find nurturing mentors who also valued carnal attraction were with gentlemen I initially found very kind until I realized their actions did not match their words.

Becoming a legal courtesan feels like the missing link.

When I was finally able to admit that I have a huge money and work kink—it turns me on so much that my lovers are patrons and muses I get to know through mutual worship, whose support funds my art—I realized that the ranch is a perfect place for my kindsexuality to run wild.

What better place to let vibes lead?

When it’s time to get specific about desire, I can invite a person who sparks my fancy back to my room immediately—and then it’s extremely easy to tell just how much someone values their time with me.

Because here, it is normal to concretely and clearly value each other, and to show up for each other in the ways that we say we will. Immediately. Tangibly.

Clear conversations about how much we want to play together are built into the framework, so both parties can relax into the experience and enjoy connecting.

At long last, I finally feel that my powerful sexual curiosity and desire are deeply appreciated rather than used and discarded. My lovers invest in their pleasure by investing in the experience we share, plus the idea that I am being “rented” is a super-duper turn-on to my kinky mind.

Instead of the (self-proclaimed!) narcissistic jazz pianist I met on OKCupid who would tell me I looked like a little boy and was totally sexually unappealing (but then he’d bring me apology burritos and was so…nice), I have sweet sessions with kind lovers of all textures—people prepared to learn, heal, and grow, explorers looking for fun, someone in a new chapter or still in the midst of transition, anyone seeking relief or nurturance.

For me, the ranch is my kindsexual self’s ideal setting for safe, authentic, co-created connection on a delightfully exciting timescale.

GO FORTH AND KIND

Kindsexuality might simply be my little ripples of love transmitting out, but my hope is that by sharing my experience with it, even if others aren’t drawn to the wide variety of humans I am, maybe it can simply be a forefronting of the question:

Is taking care of each other the norm here?

My desire is for us to co-create norms where we are intentional lovers who shape a more loving world—where we know how to co-create and expect safety in our partnerships, since over and over again I hear from people that safety is a common ingredient in the sexiest experiences.

Most of all, I want everyone in their erotic partnered experiences to feel nurtured and valued.

LUNA

ROBBIE