Greenstorm's Journal

An interesting situation has arisen lately.

I've been pretty toppy of late. This means I've been not only scening privately, but also kink-flirting in a million subtle (and I do think it's stayed relatively subtle lately) ways which draw complimentary folks to me in everyday life.

I'm good with being in this space right now. I enjoy this dynamic with many folks, I've enjoyed it in the past, and it's good to be able to explore it a little more right now.

I've also been thinking a lot about consent, coerced consent or consent under duress or pressure, assumed consent, and non-consent in the last six months or so. Much of kink definitely involves entering an altered mind-state, especially (if I'm doing my job as a top) the bottoming end of things. Well, no, when it's intense it's just all altered. So it's important to me to have a framework for consent around my play that was created outside that play, in the unaltered state.

So on the one hand, I feel like there is a large act of communication about what's consensual within a scene and about where that scene begins and ends that is in itself an act of consent; it is necessary but not sufficient for clear, uncontrovertable, and explicit consent outside scenespace.

On the other hand, when I think about the concept of ownership, of another person giving themselves to me, I think in terms of enthusiastic consent from second to second. Submission or surrender is not a single act: it is a series of moments of choice. It is not one gift, but a gift renewed every second. I find this gift infinitely moving, precious, and intimate when it comes from someone who has enough ownership and knowledge of themselves to actually *give* it. The alternative, someone who doesn't have their own hand on their rudder but instead drifts around hoping someone can grab it for them and give some sort of direction, is somewhat distasteful to me.

But so much of the conversation I've seen, and the automatic concern in this kind of power-play, does talk about the consent of the bottom or submissive partner. It's a real concern of mine; I worry that even in vanilla relationships my strong personality tends to create a dependence or sap my partner's sense of volition or selfhood.

It's only very recently I've come to realise that giving consent as a top is much more complex than saying: yes, I will engage or no, I won't engage. And of course I realise this in a situation where I suddenly realize I am not giving what I feel to be full consent.

I met a potential new play partner over the internet very recently. He's enthusiastic and, on meeting in person, we get along very well and have a bunch to say to each other and the chemistry is there. He's also, if this means anything (I'm not sure it does to me) a 99% on my okcupid profile. We've been discussing our boundaries and interests in scening; he's been presenting his to me in a very submissive way, as though we're already in that type of relationship. This should be great and exciting, but instead I'm feeling deeply uncomfortable. I'm pretty sure I feel uncomfortable because I have not agreed to be in this space; I haven't agreed to receive the surrender he assumes has happened. We're discussing the terms, but that must be done in straight space for me, and further it requires me to take his measure and find him capable of what I consider to be meaningful surrender of his volition.

Then, having discussed terms and learned who he is some and figured that he *can* do what I want, I must actually *want* him in this very deep and personal way: not just for sex, which can be a lovely fun close collaboration, but for an entire experience that I can create and control.

I certainly have not come to this point with this person. And so when this stranger is ultra submissive and eager during our communications, my hackles rise and I get uncomfortable. I think, is this person capable of standing on their own feet? Are they good at it? Do they understand that my control of their experience is a gift, as is their submission to it? Why won't they speak to me as an equal outside the situation?

But I also think, angrily, that I will not allow this precious sharing thing I do with people to be taken from me. It can't be manipulated or coerced out of me. I absolutely will not allow it to be taken. And it's that anger that I just figured out, that I just came to understand through this writing. That anger is my response to my nonconsent. And, having figured that out, I think I have an email to write with some boundaries.

Thanks, guys. So good to have some space to figure this out.