It all revolved around this legal case where a woman who had agreed, “consented,” to be a slave. This agreement extended to “non-consent”, the concept that once the “slave” made this agreement, it gave the man, the “Master,” cart blanch to do whatever he felt was best for him and his slave, whether she agreed at the time or not… after all she had relinquished the right to agree or disagree with his actions. All she had left to do was obey or be forced.
Anyway this woman changed her mind and ran away from her “Master”. He went after her, exerted some amount of force to “make her come home” and once home proceeded to punish her and then engaged in sex, all according to the original agreement, I am sure.
Said woman managed to “escape” again, or maybe just walked over to the phone, (who knows?) and called the police. Said man was in deep, deep shit, facing charges of kidnapping, assault and rape. (I cannot help but think the dude was lucky, the bitch could have reciprocated in kind. But then again, perhaps he will have a similar experience in prison. Like I said, who knows?) As far as I am concerned, there is no questions in my mind that he broke the law, and if he ever thought that some kind of a promise or piece of paper ever would protect him from prosecution, he was criminally stupid. But then there are the larger questions about consent. It is a no brainer that currently in most, if not all, jurisdictions that what he did was illegal. But let’s not forget that most, if not all, of the things we do are illegal in most jurisdictions. Beating someone is illegal, technically you cannot consent to be assaulted. The fact that said man harbored the expectation that someone who had already broken their promise to obey, would not go to the police was, as I said before, criminally stupid. The fact that the woman had made promises and then broke them is reprehensible but I don’t want to get into the tricky place of pointing fingers and blaming victims. As far as I am concerned there are two victims here, victims of their own stupidity.
The poster of this story on Fet then went on to pose a series of questions and make several statements of fact (and/or opinion, depending upon who you are). He asked if it was ethical for persons who practice CNC, he referred to them as ‘the community’ (causing all the other non-CNC people in “the community” to raise up arms, defending themselves as “not one of those type peoples”) to present a CNC lifestyle to others without clarifying that such practices are not legal, and if you do engage in such “non-consensual” activities you could very easily end up just like said man in the story. He suggested that consent is not something someone can voluntarily relinquish.
To say he really kicked the bees nest would be an understatement. Arguments raged… they are still raging. I do not even have time to read half of the pithy, pointed, sometimes clearly thought out, many times just emotional gut reaction responses. It was all very entertaining but at the same time made me think about the nature of me and my Master’s relationship.
Are we CNC? Not really. I mean I consent to obey even if I don’t ‘want’ to at the time. I consent to having him ‘make me’ if I don’t hop to fast enough or get too mouthy. I just don’t see Master hunting me down if I was so foolish as to run away. But at the same time I do see him intervening way, way before I got so far down the crazy bitch road that I could walk out, perhaps, even intervening in ways that are not very pleasant. Does he want things from me that I don’t want to do? Sometimes, in fact, it is those very things that enforce within me the sense that he is my Master, and that I do have to obey, even when it is not fun, especially when it is not fun. If it was all fun, if it was all my wish, than it would not feel real… and I need for it to feel real. Total trust, total obedience, total surrender does not come with an if, a but or an or… it just is.
I don’t have any trouble with the concept of CNC, but for me it is more… um… consensual consent? My consent is continual and unconditional and 99% of the time I am the one “making” me do it. I am the one that needs it most, so if I fail at my own personal expectations, how can I aspire to meet his? I mean it when I say; anything, everything; it is all his, every single bit of me, there is nothing he can’t ask of me that I will not do. It does not mean automaton obedience. Hell, half the time I am bitching and complaining under my breath as I drag my sorry ass off the couch to do some stupid, useless thing. And it is the silliest damn stuff that is the hardest to swallow; the hard stuff is way easier, because it is hard.
He is fond of telling me that I cannot leave, and again I know that 99% of that is the fact that now I can’t even begin to fathom ever leaving again. I have tried enough times in the past (before slavery, before promises) to learn that it is just not possible, not because he forced me to stay but because I could not stay away. And I also know that he cannot make me leave, like Doug the dog in the movie “Up”, if he tried to throw me out like the grumpy old man did, I would just hide under the front porch for however long it took for him to come to his senses. I just can’t leave, even if he was the one saying, “Go.” That’s obedience for you… but then of course he has already given me a command that I cannot leave, so in the confusion of the moment, one would have to decide which command was paramount, the more recent or the more palatable. See, consent can be tricky.
But my consent is conditional upon one thing; it is conditional upon Master being my Master, being the same man I made this promise to. If (please insert your favorite cosmic being here) forbid, he had a stroke, got the als-hammer, lighting stuck that sweet bald head, or he was abducted by aliens and got a brain transplant… then he would not be the same man. All promises, all commitments and all contracts would become suddenly null and void… “All right, dude, what did you do with my Master???” I might even have a knife at his (it’s?) throat as I asked the question.
If he changed, so would I. If he became unable to care for himself, I would have to change from a mildly bratty slave to a sweet, caring, concerned if somewhat sadistic caretaker. What? You don’t think I wouldn’t take advantage of his incapacitation to take a little revenge for all those mind fucks? You have got to be kidding. A little old man, easily confused? Oh man, how could I resist?
If he became bonkers and wanted to cut off my arms and legs, I would have him committed to the place for crazy people. Sorry, but I just can’t go that far… Apologies to all the twoo slaves out there but I want my arms and legs, thank you. And anyway, the man who is my Master now would never contemplate such a thing. That would be total alien brain transplant stuff. I would visit from time to time. I might even bake him cookies now and then, as long as I knew he was not getting out during my life time. Or, I might just poke at it with a sharp stick, gloating… “look… look… arms, legs, I gots‘em”…
And last, if he stopped asserting himself, stopped trying to control me, stopped acting like a Master, I would not be able to keep up the act for long. I need to know he will be there to make me when the going gets rough. That’s why I need a Master, I need him there to keep me feeling safe, controlled, protected… if I did’t believe he was willing to make me, I don’t know if I could make me. I wouldn’t leave, but if he did not step back up he would wish I had.
He knows all this, I tell him often enough…
And the risk, the danger they all talk about… the fact that at any time a sub, play partner, wife, slave, or bottom… (whatever you want to call it) can take that picture of her bruised ass that she was posting so proudly on the interwebs just last week and use it to accuse that same sorry son of a bitch of a bitch of assault? Yeah, that can happen. Of course it can happen. It’s a risk we all take when we choose to trust someone, to play dangerous games with them and to believe they have the integrity to keep their promises to us. Do not love lightly my friends… it can come back to bite you in the ass.
At the same time, is the risk worth it? Oh hell yeah.
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