I'm a dungeon monitor for BDSM sex parties. I love that my job helps people feel safe while exploring their kinks.

• Dungeon monitors make sure participants follow the rules during BDSM events.
• A woman decided to become one to make kink spaces feel safer and more pleasurable.

This essay is based on a conversation with Alice, who works as a UK-based dungeon monitor and kink event expert at JOYclub. She asked to redact her last name to protect her second job, but Insider has verified her identity and employment. It has been edited for length and clarity.

My introduction to the kink community happened about five years ago, when I started going to private sex parties. Ideally, you should be able to explore your sexuality in the safest way possible, but I quickly realized that this isn't always the case in these settings. Sometimes there's no real regulation or even just someone to go to if you have questions.

I wanted to enforce better practices and foster a greater sense of belonging at these events, so I underwent training and became a dungeon monitor about two and a half years ago.

My main responsibility is to make sure participants feel safe

A party usually begins around 10:30pm and will go until 6am. Throughout, we have at least two monitors in each area of the space, and we wear recognizable outfits, such as red vests with the club logo on them.

My job is to offer extra security and keep an eye on participants so that everyone is actively consenting all night long. Aside from offering condoms and encouraging people to clean up after themselves, I make sure they adhere to the safe word — "pineapple" — and don't take photos or videos. Additionally, I ask partygoers to use each designated area correctly: The dance area is purely for dancing, while the "play area" is in a separate room.

I also don't allow "solo-walking," — it's ok to observe a scene, but I will intervene if I see someone lurking and trying to jump into a group.

I have to think about the grayer areas of consent: Sometimes, people can be shy or feel pressure to perform. For example, if I see a man inviting a woman to drink and she's more intoxicated, I'm trained to come up to her and ask her if she's ok. Or if I see a participant who didn't receive aftercare, I might ask how they feel or just give them a pat on the back.

What I love about this work is that the learning never ends — we regularly update our policies based on the feedback we receive after every single event and discuss any issues we came across.

I also vet members and always keep learning about how to do better

Since BDSM and kink have become more mainstream, I see a lot of young participants who are interested in the dominant dynamic, but it's very easy to have a bad experience with the wrong person. That's why I value psychological safety as well.

Before granting membership to the club, I ask people what their interests and intentions are. We want respectful pervs — people are educated in consent and not potential predators.

I view my work as a political statement

It's funny: Our expectations at kink parties are higher than in other settings like mainstream dance clubs or even some workplaces. We don't tolerate harassment of any kind and demand that everyone be treated with respect.

I think kink spaces are where society meets intimacy. We used to view sex as something you do at home, but now you can mark your sexual exploration on a calendar.

When done right, these events can help people be vulnerable and move past sexual shame. I've seen people enter these parties with a bias — that BDSM is supposed to hurt, that you need to suffer. And they realize it's more about exploring different sensations and connecting with your body in new ways.

More than anything it's about belonging to an environment where being different isn't just okay, it's embraced.