As a masochistic sub, I dip my toes in sinister things out of choice. I’m sure most kinksters do. That’s why we’re here—to discover the ghosts and grit of sexuality. I don’t need sex to be wrapped in a pink candyfloss cloud scattered with rose petals. I like pain and mud and filth. If I know you respect me, I don’t need you to behave as though you do all the time.
I do have to treat myself with a lot of respect if I’m to live safely with your sexual darkness, though. If I don’t, I will drown in it. I must stay in touch with how our dynamic affects me because no dominant can read all the secrets in my eyes. I’m the one with first-hand information about my mental health. I’m the one who knows the difference between pain and destruction. I know when my masochism is healthy and when I’m using it like heroin.
We’re not fucking with teddy bears and flower gardens. We’re fucking with shadows, so there’s genuine potential for abuse from both sides of the slash. I need a dominant to treat the shadow side of his sexuality with as much respect as I treat mine. I need him to stay alert about his motives and compulsions because, as expressive as those eyes are, they don’t speak all that clearly.
Out in Vanilla Land, it takes backwards motives and entitlement to abuse a partner. Here on Planet BDSM, perfectly compassionate people can harm each other just by not paying enough attention to their own temptations. Our kink ethics and self-awareness must be as pronounced as Zac Efron’s abs. He didn’t get that six pack by eating pancakes and watching Baywatch, but by using them in all the right ways. So must we.
Healthy attitudes about kink must be practiced. Ethics must be examined. Motives must be observed. That’s my responsibility towards a dominant, and it’s his responsibility towards me.