BDSM Incompetence Leads to Death
The recent death of Michael Dale during a fetish session with OnlyFans creator Michaela Rylaarsdam has generated predictable headlines about BDSM, kink, and sexual extremism. For many readers, the story appears to confirm their worst fears about BDSM - violence and a lack of consent. Dale paid for an elaborate bondage and fetish experience, was wrapped in layers of plastic and tape, suffocated, and died. Rylaarsdam ultimately pleaded guilty to involuntary manslaughter.
But from the perspective of an experienced BDSM practitioner, educator, and coach, this case is not primarily about BDSM. It is about people engaging in high-risk activities without the knowledge, training, judgment, or ethical framework required to do them safely.
One of the most important details often overlooked in media coverage of this incident is that Michaela Rylaarsdam is not a professional Dominant. She is an OnlyFans entertainer. While there is certainly overlap between online adult entertainment and kink communities, they are not the same thing.
A professional Dominant develops expertise through years of education, mentorship, community involvement, risk management training, and slowly progressing through practical experience. Professional Dominants understand consent negotiations, emergency procedures, physiological risks, psychological responses, and ethical responsibilities. They learn from other experienced practitioners and are held accountable by their communities.
Rylaarsdam did not possess this level of knowledge or training. The distinction matters because BDSM is not simply a collection of activities. It is a practice built upon responsibility. A Dominant's first responsibility is not to create intensity. It is to create safety.
Lack of Safety
One of the most troubling aspects of the case is the apparent absence of even basic emergency planning. Every experienced Dominant knows that scenes do not always go according to plan. Equipment fails. Bodies react unpredictably. Panic occurs. Medical emergencies happen.
The question is not whether something can go wrong. The question is what is your plan when something does go wrong.
For example, if a person is extensively bound with tape, rope, plastic wrap, or other restrictive materials, emergency cutting tools should be immediately accessible. EMT shears are inexpensive, designed to cut through difficult materials quickly, and can be operated safely under stress. Many BDSM practitioners keep them within arm's reach during a scene. I certainly do.
If a submissive suddenly experiences a medical emergency, every second matters. A Dom cannot waste precious minutes searching for scissors. A Dom cannot be improvising a rescue plan after a crisis has already begun. The rescue plan should exist before the scene starts, and masterful Dominants know this.
Lack of Safe Word & Signal
Another glaring issue is the apparent absence of a functional safety signal.
A safe word is a prearranged word that immediately communicates that a submissive wants a scene to slow down, change, or stop entirely. Common systems use words such as "yellow" to indicate caution and "red" to indicate an immediate stop. Safe words are among the most recognizable safety practices in BDSM because they provide clear communication even when role-playing, resistance, or intense emotional states are involved.
But experienced practitioners also understand a fundamental limitation of safe words: What happens when someone cannot speak?
If a person's mouth is occupied, if they are gagged, if they are struggling to breathe, or if they are physically unable to verbalize distress, verbal communication becomes impossible. For this reason, nonverbal safety signals are standard practice in many BDSM communities.
A submissive may be instructed to hold an object and drop it if they need the scene stopped. Others may use a hand signal, such as flashing a peace sign, tapping repeatedly, snapping fingers, ringing a bell, squeezing an object, or performing another predetermined gesture.
The specific signal matters less than the fact that one exists and that everyone understands it.
Based on publicly reported information, it is difficult to understand what communication plan existed between Rylaarsdam and her client, or if safety signals were established at all. If someone is heavily restrained, wrapped in plastic, and unable to communicate effectively, the absence of a reliable safety signal represents a catastrophic failure in scene design.
A competent Dominant does not merely ask, "What does my submissive want?"
A competent Dominant asks, "How will I know if something goes wrong?"
NOT Safe, Sane, & Consensual
This principle connects to one of the primary ethical foundations within BDSM culture: Safe, Sane, and Consensual. While modern communities often use alternative frameworks such as Risk-Aware Consensual Kink (RACK), Safe, Sane, and Consensual remains a useful starting point.
Safe: Reasonable precautions to minimize foreseeable risks have been taken.
Sane: Participants are sober, making rational decisions and exercising sound judgment.
Consensual: Participants freely agree to participate and understand associated risks.
Consent alone is not enough. Two people can consent to something that is profoundly unsafe and agree to something that demonstrates poor judgment. Consent does not magically transform recklessness into responsibility.
In the Rylaarsdam case, the activities appear to have been consensual, but consent addresses only one-third of the equation. The activities described in court records were neither safe nor sane. As a mother of three, Rylaarsdam undoubtedly understood a basic fact that all adults understand: placing a plastic bag over someone's head can be deadly.
This is not specialized BDSM knowledge. It is common sense.
Common Sense is Not Common
The same recklessness applies in another case currently unfolding in Berlin. Two professional Dommes are standing trial following the death of a client during a BDSM session that involved injections of procain, a local anesthetic commonly used in dentistry. According to prosecutors, neither woman possessed medical qualifications or meaningful training in administering anesthetics, yet they proceeded with injections that allegedly contributed to the client's death.
The details may differ, but the underlying problem is remarkably similar. People were engaging in activities they were not qualified to perform. In both cases, consent was present, and the clients/submissives actively requested the experiences. In both cases, the “Doms” appear to have ventured far beyond their actual expertise. And in both cases, someone died.
The lesson is not that BDSM is inherently dangerous. The lesson is that ignorance is dangerous.
Aviation is safe because pilots know how to fly airplanes.
Scuba diving is safe because divers are trained to manage underwater emergencies.
BDSM is no different.
The activities themselves are not the primary issue. The issue is whether the people engaging in them possess the knowledge, skills, judgment, and safety procedures necessary to manage the risks involved. Unfortunately, many people mistake confidence for competence. They assume that because someone has an online following, creates adult content, wears fetish clothing, or calls themselves a Dominant, they must understand BDSM.
That assumption can be fatal.
The tragedy of the Rylaarsdam case is not that BDSM failed. The tragedy is that basic principles of risk management, communication, emergency preparedness, and common sense appear to have been abandoned. For those of us who have spent years teaching BDSM safely and ethically, this case serves as a painful reminder that dominance is not simply about power. It is about responsibility. And responsibility begins long before a scene starts.