#got me chock full of ethical systems

“I like the idea of feeling in control of losing control.”

I could hear the sense of relief in her voice, and I tried not to smile too much. 

It’s rare to hear a concept boiled down so succinctly into a single sentence. To have so much of the good present, of the why and the how of it right there, in between each word, practically beaming with pride and satisfaction. For it to come from the mouth of someone who hasn’t even done anything yet, who’s interest is only fledgling at best. 

Consent, even when freely surrendered, hangs over a scene like a referee, waiting to flag a foul and pull out the red flag to stop play. Without it there’s no game, there’s no scene, there’s no kinky fuckery or fun depravity. The moment something is not ok is the moment that something stops happening, should stop happening, must stop happening. It’s where the trust comes in, to enable you to feel in control, even when you’re losing your grip on it. It’s handed from one person to another, and you have to know that they’re going to act as you would, given that power. 

I don’t want to be a monster, as much as I might don the mask of one. To cast away hyperbole, I don’t even want to be of questionable moral fibre. I want to be reliable, trust worthy, and good, even as I do things that require hours of context to be deemed as such. And so there’s a duty to cultivate awareness, both of me and of you, and adhere to that. To know when enough is enough, and to know when it isn’t. Best interests and all that. 

The thing to bear in mind is that this is all temporary. There is no such thing as a permanent surrender, to ever truly, wholly give yourself over to another person, transfer possession of your power across to me. As seductive as such an idea might be, it’s fantasy. Instead it’s only ever power lent, control borrowed. Taken back at a moment’s notice, a word burst from your lips that removes your consent from the scene, and expects that to be acknowledged and reacted to. 

Because anything less than that would be abuse. Anything less than that would be morally reprehensible, even if the idea of being utterly at the whim of another seems like an enjoyable fantasy. 

We put checks and balances in place when we are of sound mind, to protect ourselves from the times when we are not. And we owe it to ourselves to then follow our better judgement, for that very quality of being better than we are now. 

There’s no shame in that. A moment’s awkwardness saving you from a lifetime of regret.