After thirty minutes, I begin to approach David's core fetish: scents. He mentioned it in his very first message, and it was confirmed by his highly enthusiastic reaction when I had him validate at the start of the session the practices that would be addressed. I therefore remove my shoe with confidence and press it directly to his nose, still warm. He sniffs. A moment passes. Then he turns his head away, saying: "No, Mistress." No? Why is he saying no?
For sessions that have not explicitly negotiated CNC (Consensual Non-Consent) or that do not involve significant pain, I do not propose a safeword. I make clear at the introduction that the person will always be heard if they withdraw their consent, if they are uncomfortable, too ill at ease, suffering in a way that is too unpleasant, or experiencing any state that is not truly desirable in the moment.
Despite this, I am well aware that when one is facing a person exercising authority and power over you, all the more so when, in exchange, one chooses to dive into one's vulnerability by submitting, it is not necessarily easy to say no. Furthermore, one of the traits of masculinity as it is taught in this society is precisely that a man does not say no to sex. A man has "irrepressible desires," "urges to satisfy"; he can accommodate a low relational standard if it allows him to act on sex; it is even socially acknowledged that in the natural pursuit of his satisfaction, he is better off multiplying partners, and can even be socially valorised for it. Fair enough. Men have their reasons for not having plunged deeply into introspection on the question of their own consent: they were taught they would always be willing.
In this context, I am well aware that it is not enough to say that one can say "no" at any time, and that I will never be upset by it. One must also be aware that what one wants to say is "no". That is why I continue, of course, throughout the session to ask questions about what I perceive. As I did after bringing my shoe to his nose, and hearing: "No, Mistress." I ask him to repeat. He repeats. I wonder what kind of "no" this is. I therefore ask him whether he wants to play the "no game." CNC. The game where he says no, and I do it anyway. He tells me that no, he does not want to play the no game. I hear the clearly expressed limit. I also understand something: when I was only grazing him, talking to him, being close to his body, David was literally at my feet. He did not refuse any of that. What he refused was the humiliation. My attention, my softness, my seduction, yes. My possible contempt, his shame, no.
This is a case I have observed before. A pattern, even. Many times, I have noticed that a person approaching with a strong desire for humiliation first needs to feel seen, and understood. One could of course say that everyone wants to be seen and understood; but approaching it through the prism of humiliation, through the prism of violence deeply rooted in a power dynamic, is quite specific. I think of the sissy who comes to be transformed into a super slut to be degraded, and who bursts into tears of gratitude when I tell her she is beautiful. Of the married fifty-year-old man who dreams that his wife would make love to him the way he would adore, abandoned, with an arm up his arse to the elbow, and a kiss on the forehead.
While I try to find another path, David's phone rings. I hold out my hand to take it and ask him to stop it, and David panics: he begs me not to pick up. It would of course never have occurred to me to do such a thing. There is in this supplication a deep fear, perhaps of seeing his life collapse, perhaps of someone holding the power to ruin it. Those familiar with blackmail play will understand. But blackmail had never been part of the discussion with David, so it was not clear to him that I was not going to explode his consent on the floor without a second thought. Once again: one can repeat indefinitely that limits will be respected; everyone knows the risk that they may ultimately not be. I believe all these parameters must be taken into account with heightened vigilance, as a priority, over the signals our submissives send us.
David and I begin to talk off-game. We speak about humiliation. I share my perception with him. He tells me that perhaps it would be different if I had a genuine desire to humiliate him. If I had no consideration for him, if I sincerely felt he deserved it and that he was worthless. Of course it would be different; I will no doubt address that in an article. So, I will not claim I never feel that way toward the men I submit, because you know, men are not beyond reproach and do not always behave exemplarily, particularly with women, particularly with sex workers. However, it is not in any way a driving force for me, and I prefer to believe that I contribute to elevating souls rather than defiling them. I believe in education, and in my expertise on the human psyche. I believe in love as well. And in that framework, under my lighthouse, it was not fitting to humiliate David, and he perceived that clearly.
David did not sniff my shoes, despite their scent having been his motivation to cross three countries of Europe to meet me. He thanked me nonetheless, at length, warmly and sincerely, before setting off in the opposite direction, carrying with him an essential lesson on consent. My job is done.
No responses yet