Trigger warning: I’m talking about sensitive things here; the title probably gives you some hints, but just so we’re clear: this post contains fairly blunt discussion of consent-sensitive issues.
The “issue” of consent is pretty straightforward (in fact, I put it in quotes because it is so obvious, I refuse to even acknowledge that it should be an issue at all). No means no. Negative body language means no. Lack of awareness of surroundings, or other inability to consent, means no. Being in a relationship/engaged/married/water brothers/etc does not infer any implied consent. These are, I think, simple and obvious truths that should be apparent to any decent person. The fact that they even need to be stated (and restated, and written, and captioned and headlined and shouted into the echo-chambers of the world) is a depressing and glaring piece of evidence that rape culture not only exists, but thrives.
However, there is at least one area where consent gets murky. The BDSM community, and D/s relationships in particular, often contain elements that throw the traditional cues for consent out the window. The most straightforward examples are still pretty simple: words like ‘no’, ‘stop’, begging, even crying can all be part of a scene. Intense pain, in particular, can make plenty of people cry ‘stop’ at the same time they are eager for the scene to continue. In this case, there is a simple, common solution: safe words. A simple word (or action, in scenes that involve the inability to speak) is established that means ‘stop’.
But the reliance on a safe word assumes that the bottom in the scene remains in a fairly stable mental state. If the bottom starts having a panic attack, or a flashback, or enters any mental state with dissociative characteristics, including the endorphin high known as ‘sub space’, they can no longer be reliably depended upon to end the scene when they need to.
Let me repeat that, because I think it is important: if someone is in sub space, there is no guarantee that they can indicate if they need the scene to stop. This is a fact that is often either ignored, glossed over, or hand-waved away with ‘well, what we do is inherently risky’. All sex is inherently risky, that’s the entire point behind safer sex education. You do everything you can to mitigate those risk factors. The fact that the conversation ends with ‘this is risky’ is absurd. That’s where the conversation ought to begin.
So, let’s begin. Safe words are useful, but they are relied upon as the only means of determining consent, and this is dangerous. Body language is essential; if someone’s body language changes in a way that it has never done before in your experience playing with them, stop the scene to check on them. Yes, you might be ruining a great moment for that person, but it is your responsibility to ensure their safety and integrity, just the same as it would be if someone suddenly went rigid or limp in the middle of traditional intercourse.
Because the bottom line is this: if someone loses agency and you continue to play with them, you are committing a harmful, unethical action. Depending on the actions involved in the scene, you are probably also committing a crime such as assault, sexual assault, or rape (I say probably because there are some kinds of kink that do not meet the criteria for any of these - hypnosis comes immediately to my mind). It doesn’t matter that it’s a kink scene. It doesn’t matter that you negotiated a safe word. It doesn’t matter that you’ve played with that person before.
“But Anna,” asks the strangely deferential mob, “why are you taking away all of our fun?” Well, Strangely Deferential Mob, the good news is that I’m not. What I am proposing is that we standardize additional levels of safety. The first time you play with someone, assume ANY change in body language is a sign of loss of agency, and pause the scene to check. If you do not get a distinctly, clearly positive answer, stop the scene. I’m including answers like “I think I’m okay” as scene-stoppers here, too. If your partner is not eager to continue, with both their words AND body language, stop. As you play with someone more often, you can learn their body language better, and get a better idea for when they need to be checked on. Your scenes can become longer and more enjoyable. But don’t risk harming someone, and less importantly, committing a crime, just because you want to rush into the fun.
There’s another sub-issue here: people who want their agency taken away. Forceplay of all kinds, kinks that involve complete encasement and/or immobilization, and the M/s dynamic in general can all involve scenes that have no clear way to signal a withdrawal of consent. The best solution I have for this is to only engage in this kind of play with someone who knows you extremely well, and whom you trust intimately.
One final suggestion: if something does go wrong, and someone you are playing with stops responding, or starts responding strangely, or otherwise seems to have possibly withdrawn their consent or lost their agency, stopping the scene is not the end of your responsibility. First, give your partner some space; respectfully let them know that you will be available if they want to talk, but they have no obligation to do so. Do not seek their comfort; you are not the injured party, and your feelings of guilt are secondary here. Do not make it about you.
When/if they are ready to talk to you (and that if is important - if what they need is to not talk to you any more, you need to respect that too), apologize, sincerely. Don’t say “I’m sorry you got hurt”; avoid the passive voice. Own up for your actions. Admit that what you did caused harm, and acknowledge that just because you didn’t intend to cause harm doesn’t make the harm any less real.
I think that the above is a good start towards minimizing some of the risks involved in kink and handling problems that occur ethically. I welcome any criticisms, thoughts, and/or commentary.
