My partner recently told me they want to be my footstool while I watch television. They say it turns them on, and I honestly can’t tell whether they’re joking. Is this actually a thing?
– Anonymous
One of my favorite aspects of being a sex therapist is being exposed to the wonderful world of kink and discovering all of the various sexual lifestyles that are out there. From the more familiar to the lesser known, there is something beautiful about a person discovering what turns them on and giving themselves permission to embrace it, even when it falls outside what others consider “normal.” If someone you’re dating tells you they want to be your footstool while you watch television, it wouldn’t be a stretch to wonder whether they’re joking. You might also wonder what the hell you’re supposed to say next. Welcome to human furniture kink, sometimes called forniphilia, where consenting adults take on the role of furniture, such as a table or footstool. Yes, this is a thing, and before anyone starts diagnosing a stranger based on their preferred role in the living room, let’s talk about it.
I had never heard of forniphilia until about a year ago when I was doing research on uncommon kinks. When it comes to this kink, it can fall under the broader umbrella of BDSM, particularly submission and objectification play. Objectification means something different here than treating someone as though their feelings don’t matter. In a negotiated scene, someone might enjoy temporarily taking on the role of an object while their partner interacts with them within agreed boundaries. The person is choosing an experience, and their humanity remains very much intact. Remember, this is happening between two or more consenting adults. Some may find this sexually exciting, while others may enjoy the service aspect or the opportunity to inhabit a role that feels far removed from everyday life. There is no universal meaning hiding underneath the coffee table. If you want to know, you have to ask the person.
I can imagine a reader thinking, “But why would anyone want that?” To that I say, fair question, provided we ask it with curiosity rather than disgust. Consider how much of adult life involves making decisions and being responsible for everyone else’s needs. For someone who enjoys submission, a clearly defined role might offer a welcome shift in attention. Someone else might enjoy feeling useful to a partner, while another person likes the consensual experience of being objectified. These are possibilities to explore, not explanations we can assign to everyone with this interest. Wanting to play a particular role also does not mean someone wants that role imposed on them outside the experience. A person can enjoy being a footstool on Saturday night and expect their opinions to be taken seriously over mimosas at Sunday brunch.
Because some of you reading this will automatically assume something but my psychologically wrong with these individuals, let me inform you that research helps challenge that idea. In a 2013 study published in The Journal of Sexual Medicine, Andreas Wismeijer and Marcel van Assen compared 902 BDSM practitioners with 434 control participants. The BDSM group reported, on average, greater openness to experience and higher subjective well-being, along with lower rejection sensitivity. This was an observational study using online questionnaires, so it does not establish that BDSM causes better mental health. It also did not specifically study human furniture kink. I thought it was important to note because what it does offer is evidence against the blanket assumption that people who enjoy BDSM must be psychologically unhealthy. Your reaction to someone’s kink is about you, not them.
Which brings me to a phrase I wish more people would practice: Don’t yuck someone else’s yum. You are allowed to find an idea surprising. You are allowed to have absolutely no desire to participate. But there is a meaningful difference between saying, “That doesn’t appeal to me,” and telling someone they are disgusting for wanting it. If a partner shares this interest, you can ask, “What about that feels appealing to you?” You can also say, “I appreciate you trusting me, but I don’t want to do that.” Respecting someone’s sexuality does not require making yourself available for it. Nobody owes their partner a kink experience as proof of love or open mindedness and at the same time, shaming said partner will absolutely do more harm.
Remember that consent also requires more than agreeing that one person will pretend to be furniture. Research reviewing consent in BDSM emphasizes negotiation and attention to safety, while also acknowledging that consent violations occur within kink communities. A kink label does not make an interaction ethical. Partners need to discuss what the role includes and how either person can pause or end it. Someone playing an object still gets to speak, move, change their mind, and stop. Silence or stillness should never be treated as automatic permission. Check in afterward, too, because something that sounded appealing in conversation may feel different in practice.
As I wrap up, I also want to advocate for people whose interests remain “out there,” even after we learn about them. We often defend sexual differences by reassuring everyone that they are actually common. That can be helpful, but what happens to the person whose desire really is uncommon? Do we shun them and make them feel gross? Obviously, no. They still deserve dignity. Human furniture kink does not need to become the next mainstream bedroom trend to earn respectful treatment. We can take consent and physical risk seriously while making room for desires we do not share or fully understand. Your personal comfort zone does not need to become everyone else’s sexual boundary. Stay curious, let people have their consensual “yum,” and remember that you can decline an invitation without shaming the person who offered it.
The advice provided in this column is intended for general informational purposes only and should not be considered a substitute for professional therapy or mental health treatment. Each individual’s situation is unique, and the insights offered here may not address the complexities of your specific circumstances. If you’re experiencing challenges related to your mental health, relationships, or sexuality, I strongly encourage you to reach out to a licensed therapist or mental health professional for personalized support. You’re not alone—help is available.
Matt Lachman is a Licensed Professional Clinical Counselor and Supervisor, AASECT Certified Sex Therapist and owner of Cleveland Sex Therapy, located in Gordon Square. Since 2019, Matt has been promoting sex positivity and inclusivity in his work with individuals, couples and polyamorous relationships. When he’s not helping clients navigate their sexual and relational journeys, you can find him enjoying a cold brew at Gypsy Beans or watching reruns of Happy Endings. Ask a question here.