Nazi Kink and the Deep Woods
The chat that brings a small cluster of Nazi fetishists together rings out with snark and eye-rolling mirth as they share screenshots of Twitter denizens (Twits, if I may) insisting that Fash Fetish makes one a fascist. Laughingly they type, “Having a rape fetish makes you a rapist, having a clown fetish makes you a clown and having a nun fetish makes you a nun 🤡🤡” while another responds with a clever, “Having a foot fetish makes you a foot 🦶”. The jokes continue, the crowd quite familiar with having to bite a tongue in order to survive among those outside this space and happy now to have a place where they can easily be themselves.
It’s in these places that we find the real answers to questions about what kinks say about people. These are the places we find when we’re honest about ourselves and develop a deep and impactful process for self-reflection and emotional awareness. One doesn’t physically walk into a space like this, it’s not a bar or a café run by your local weirdo, it’s more like a digital forest treehouse. Some days you climb the ladder and there’s nobody there with you so you pick up one of the books they left behind and read them among the birdsong and the bayberry. Other times you find yourself warmly welcomed into an immediate casual camaraderie where you gather in the way that old friends gather, sharing books, knowledge, quips, and steaming hot gossip from across the ‘Net. What brought us all together was adversity, honesty, and a vulnerability that comes from knowing just how difficult it can be to exist within a complex, but ultimately human, paradox. We’re all raging Leftists…and we all have a Nazi Kink.
The real purpose of this space is to bring together artists and writers who want to be a part of the development of a publication specifically catered to those with a Nazi Kink. The very first of these, the first NaZine, raised over 750 dollars which was donated to a small, local boots-on-the-ground Jewish heritage center which teaches classes, hosts worship, and organizes for community outreach. It was so shockingly successful within its niche that we decided to make another one which is currently still in developmental stages and likely will have a publication date in early 2026. Everyone involved is a friend of a friend or recruited specifically due to their ostensible Leftism, brought into the treehouse and welcomed with open arms and open minds.
Within the conversation, one of us mentions that it must be an element of human comfort that makes people so absolutely certain that it’s easy to tell apart good from evil, echoing sentiments from Victor Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning which peels away our surface-level understanding of what it means to be good or evil or how to comfortably categorize it under labels or basic primitive means such as race or ethnicity. She later mentions Leora Fridman’s work Bound Up which opens with a beautifully written essay deconstructing the Jewish author’s sensual relationship with the concepts surrounding specifically German and Nazi aesthetics juxtaposed and opposed to her own body and existence. “[…] they just need to read it” [sic] she implores, as another of us laughs, “you’re crazy, they don’t read😔” [sic].
It’s difficult to fully understand what “normal” people are going through when they’re faced with things that are beyond their scope of understanding. I think of it sometimes as some eldritch horror they’re watching walk calmly from the deep woods as their simple minds make wild connections that may or may not be relevant or warranted. In all actuality, if they did nothing, the creature would walk right back into the forest and that would be that. It’s the screaming that draws its curious attention. The same can be said about such things as “discourse” since there’s no way I would even write something like this without having heard the…screaming. Twitter user @clownholez (really? CLOWN HOLES??) tweeted, “i genuinely am crashing out and i feel sick and my eyes hurt and i am so tired and i hate that this has been going on […]” [sic] while @Charm_frog1125 tweeted, “If youre into using real important issues as a way to get off then youre fucking scum. A fascism fetish?” [sic] Meanwhile those of us in the NaZine chat chuckle away and look sardonically into the camera.
So how did this discourse start? Did it start with Nazis? Of course not. It started with women. Women online were being messy and you know, nothing is worse online than a woman being messy. Pornography poster @yourminxx, a 19 year old white woman who posts primarily hardcore misogynistic pornography, is an outspoken advocate for kink, stating: “This is why I will always post about and support radical acceptance of all kinks. Because at the end of the day, no matter how uncomfortable it makes you personally, if it's btwn consenting adults then you have no place to say they're not allowed to.” [sic] Her posts include celebrations of kinks sometimes misunderstood by the general public and she’s made it very clear that her posts and her ideologies are quite different—that her porn is fantasy and that fantasies are not plans. When a user pointed out that one of her mutuals, a Black woman, was making raceplay content, Minx posted this: “having a facism fetish doesn't make you a nazi in the same way that being into ageplay doesn't make u a ped0 and being into cnc doesn't make you a rapist and being into misogyny kink doesn't make you a misogynist and being into pet play doesn't mean you actually want to fuck dogs” [sic] which is, of course, the moment the mind-breaking thing walked out of the deep woods and the screaming began.
As we all know by now, it’s far, far easier to fight women (especially Black women) than it is to fight Nazis. Bog standard implicit bias instilled within our tiny Western civilization brains will drive us constantly to the “correction” of something we consider “lower” than our cultural norms and moral standards. The pitchforks are fetched, the torches are lit, and all of a sudden the “Nazi” everyone is so concerned about and who must be destroyed is a naked Black woman on the internet who makes fantasy raceplay videos with a swastika drawn on her forehead. When I put it like that, do we not see how absurd that sounds? Though she could theoretically actually believe some of the stuff she posts and fantasizes about, it’s equally possible that she doesn’t, but the truth remains that we can’t read her mind. The more “acceptable” target, Minx, has a very clear stance on her ideologies versus her pornography, drawing a distinct line between what she finds sexy versus what she finds ethical. It doesn’t seem to matter, nevertheless, since nobody can hear the eldritch horror’s calm explanation of the human condition over the chaos of madness caused by its very existence.
No matter how “problematic“ this Black creator on the internet is, she’s still not every Black woman into raceplay online. She’s still not even cutting close to the basic standards of raceplay narratives which are usually softer, redemptive, and satisfying a unique sensual need rarely expressed—one that likely has its base in a recapture of narrative control. Many raceplay stories are written by Black women for Black women, flying in the face of most common expectations of the theme; in fact, a lot of roleplays actually closely resemble the way that Leora Fridman talks about herself in the essay I mentioned earlier, further deepening the necessity of reading for those who wish to have a deeper understanding of the complexity of human sensuality.
So where does this discourse leave us? For those of us who’ve always been out here in the deep woods chilling in the treehouse, we’re hanging out the windows chuckling at the distant screams. It’s not as though it’s anything new, it’s just another “sighting” the normies can whisper about later—their close call with something horrifying and inhuman. That they don’t understand where it’s coming from or why it exists isn’t really something that concerns us, as we’re always going to be out here frolicking with the horror and the greater understanding of its place within the context of psychosexual development. Ultimately, it becomes a bit of an artistic science, this vivisection, and it’s far, far more than a simple “Nazi Uniform Sexy” though it may have started there. For us, it’s a no-brainer that a Nazi Kink doesn’t make you a Nazi and the very concept of that notion is worthy of a healthy amount of derisive laughter. We’ve gotten to the point where believing in something so primitive is unfathomable, and we’re more than happy to share resources to elevate the narrative for those curious in their intellectual wanderlust.
We won’t carry you, though we can help. In order to make it into the treehouse, you have to be able to come into the woods by yourself to get here, with all the monsters along the way.
