Why did choking during sex become vanilla?

Siena lost her virginity at 14. It was with “an older boy” she was dating at the time – a relationship the 28-year-old now considers “pretty suspect” in hindsight. While they were having sex, out of nowhere, he grabbed Siena’s neck. “He did it without asking,” she tells me. “I remember thinking, ‘oh, maybe this is just what sex is supposed to look like’.” 

This was the first time Siena was non-consensually choked during sex, but sadly, not the last. “I had a lot of one-night stands and casual hookups in my late teens and early twenties, and that dynamic seemed to make some men feel like they had free rein – like they didn’t need to check in first.” She adds that one man even “slapped [her] across the face without saying a word beforehand”.

It’s no understatement to say that sexual choking – also known as erotic asphyxiation or breath play – has entered the mainstream in recent years. New research from YouGov has found that in the UK, 22 per cent of women aged 18 to 29 have been choked at least once, a stark contrast to just one per cent of women over the age of 60. The data also reflects shifting attitudes towards choking: while 12 per cent of young people say that choking during sex is either “tame” or “neither tame nor extreme”, just one per cent of over-60s share the same view. A review conducted by Conservative peer Baroness Gabby Bertin and published earlier this year concluded that choking has become the “sexual norm”. 

Porn has become the default form of sex ed for young folks, so it makes sense that as rough sex becomes more common in porn that it’s becoming more common in real life, too

Choking, by definition, is a sex act that falls firmly under the BDSM umbrella: in other words, it’s niche (it’s also technically illegal, even if the person being choked has consented to it). So why have so many young people tried it? “The rise of sexual choking among young adults is likely a product of the mainstreaming of kink we’ve seen in recent years,” says Dr Justin Lehmiller, Senior Research Fellow at the Kinsey Institute and host of the Sex and Psychology Podcast.

“We are seeing more examples of sexual choking in the media through movies, music videos, books, and even advertising,” adds Dr Giselle Woodley, a sexologist and researcher at Edith Cowan University (some credit the bestselling 50 Shades of Grey books with catalysing the mainstreaming of BDSM; many young women will recall seeing black-and-white GIFs of women being choked on Tumblr). “It’s become a more prominent act in the discourse, and so young people may believe that sexual choking is a typical activity within one’s sexual repertoire.”

Of course, porn also has a lot to answer for. “BDSM activities, including choking, have become more prevalent in the world of porn,” says Dr Lehmiller. But the issue doesn’t begin and end with porn: inadequate sex education has a lot to answer for, too. “Porn has become the default form of sex ed for young folks, so it makes sense that as rough sex becomes more common in porn that it’s becoming more common in real life, too.”

On top of this, Rachel Thompson, author of Rough: How violence found its way into the bedroom, adds that TikTok is rife with kink misinformation. “There’s a worrying wave of videos from unqualified individuals encouraging people to try out various kink acts, including things like consensual non-consent, without any mention of safety precautions or consent,” she says. In her view, we’re in the midst of a dangerous “sex misinformation crisis”.

As choking has become ‘normalised’ in a culture where sex education remains woefully unfit-for-purpose, more and more young women like Siena are experiencing non-consensual choking: another survey for the BBC in 2019 found that in a study of women aged 18 to 39, 38 per cent had experienced unwanted slapping, choking, gagging or spitting during otherwise consensual sex. The aforementioned 2020 BBC survey found that 71 per cent of the men who took part said they had slapped, choked, gagged or spat on their partner during consensual sex. Of these men, around one-third said they would not obtain consent for the activity either before or during sex.

For some, it’s about the euphoria or rush that can accompany restriction of airflow. For others, it’s more about playing with power dynamics and exploring dominance and submission

Rebecca was in her early twenties when she was first choked. She hadn’t consented to it. “It was with my boyfriend at the time; he was on top of me, then out of nowhere he just put his hands around my neck and started squeezing.” Rebecca, who didn’t watch much porn at the time, was entirely unfamiliar with the concept of sexual choking. “I thought, ‘is this a sexy thing, or a murder-y thing?’,” she recalls. “I didn’t know that choking was a ‘thing’. But I know now it was something that he had seen in porn.”

It’s worth noting that many women enjoy choking. As Dr Woodley says, “it can be difficult to disentangle our own sexual desires from those circulated and proliferated in the media or within social discourse,” but many women – even staunch feminists who have interrogated their desires – do still like it. One 2021 US study of female students found that most of their choking experiences were linked to positive feelings such as pleasure, excitement, intimacy, caring and enhanced emotional connection with their partner during sex. “The lack of distinction between consensual and non-consensual is pretty kinkphobic,” Thompson says. “There are people who enjoy breath play and who have educated themselves on how to practise it safely and consensually.”

For example, 26-year-old Emily enjoys being choked. “I like the low-key dominant-submissive dynamic,” she says, adding that “there’s something about having pain and pleasure together that makes it so appealing.” Siena also enjoys being choked for similar reasons. “My ex enjoyed taking a dominant role, and I realised I liked being submissive,” she says, referring to the relationship as a “safe” space for her to explore her preferences. “It wasn’t just physical, it was psychological too. I think it can heighten intimacy.”

“Different people may be into choking for different reasons,” explains Dr Lehmiller. “For some, it’s about the euphoria or rush that can accompany restriction of airflow. For others, it’s more about playing with power dynamics and exploring dominance and submission. In other cases, it might be about the taboo element or risk of the activity that heightens excitement. And for yet others, it might stem from intense trust with a partner, increasing openness to engaging in edgier or more dangerous activities.”

It wasn’t just physical, it was psychological too. I think it can heighten intimacy

It’s important to stress, as Dr Woodley notes, there is “no completely safe way” to engage in sexual choking. “The stakes are high,” she says. “There is the possibility of damage to the neck or larynx, thyroid injuries, loss of bowel movement control. At worst, there is also a risk of stroke and death.” Worryingly, an Australian survey of students published in 2024 found that the vast majority did not know that sexual choking could be harmful. Given the risks, it tracks that there’s been a push to essentially stop sexual choking happening at all: notably, in June this year, the UK government announced that it intends to ban strangulation in pornography as part of its pledge to halve violence against women and girls in a decade. 

It’s good to see politicians taking the issue of sexual violence seriously. But it’s worth questioning whether this sort of approach is really preventing women and girls from harm. After all, many young people will continue to engage in choking, even if they know the dangers. With this in mind, Dr Lehmiller believes it’s important to accept that this is happening and acknowledge that there are methods to minimise the risks. “If people want to explore sexual choking, it must be done in a consensual way first and foremost,” he says. “It’s also vital to take steps that minimise the risks. There’s much that can be done from a harm reduction perspective, such as by not applying pressure on the neck, having a safeword, or placing the hand below the neck, on the collarbone, to simulate the experience.”

In any case, the issue here is less about choking, and more about men feeling entitled to women’s bodies, often catalysed by watching male-pleasure-oriented porn through an uncritical lens. To tackle the issue at the root, it’s clear we need robust sex education which delves into porn literacy, misogyny, and the nuances of consent – and the good news is that the new Relationships, Sex, and Health education curriculum published in July states that children should be taught “how pornography can negatively influence sexual attitudes and behaviours” including by “providing some people with a sense of sexual entitlement to the bodies of others.” Will it work in practice? Only time will tell – but chances are it’ll do more to keep the next generation of women safe from sexual harm than a headline-grabbing ban on choking porn.