Page 39 of Gideon
“This world I’m a part of, kink, it’s complex, with rules and structure that exist for a reason. One of those reasons is consent. What we did just a short while ago, I did without your consent, Naomi,” he explained with a heavy sigh of burden.
“What do you mean? Everything we did happened with my consent,” I explained, my brow furrowed in confusion at his words.
“No, it didn’t,” he reiterated softly.
“You asked me. You told me what you were going to do, and you asked me if I would accept that. I said yes. That’s consent, Gideon,” I pressed my point.
“But it isn’t. That’s what I need you to understand,” he implored with a passion. His hand hovered over mine, as though he wanted to take my hand in his, but still I refused to look at him. “One cannot consent when one does not have all the information. This isn’t how it works. The BDSM community is built on a set of principles that we do not stray from. Honesty, communication, safety. Hell, we even have acronyms for this shit,” he laughed somewhat humorlessly.
“Acronyms?” I questioned, struggling to hold fast to the emotional distance I wanted in that moment.
“Yes. SSC, RACK, even PRICK,” he chuckled.
“Prick? Really?” I scoffed, unable to stop myself from smirking at the odd choice for an acronym.
“Yes, really. It means Personal Responsibility Informed Consensual Kink,” he explained.
“That was a lot of words I’m not sure I understand,” I admitted, rubbing my hands over up my upper arms as my mind tried to process what he was saying.
“It’s best to start with SSC. Safe, sane, and consensual. It means we do not engage in any kind of play unless it is safe, both parties are sane, and everyone is consenting.”
“That makes sense. But I don’t see how that means that I didn’t consent earlier,” I replied.
“I’m getting there. Stay with me. I promise I’ll get to it.” I could hear the smirk in his voice. “RACK stands for Risk-Aware Consensual Kink. It means that you know what you’re getting into before you actually get into it. That you understand the risks involved.”
“You said that you’ve been a Dominant for quite sometime. I would assume you know what you’re doing,” I tossed off with only a smidge of sarcasm.
“That’s where PRICK comes in. Personal Responsibility. I may know what I’m doing, but you don’t. You were not aware of some very important facts before we began,” he said. The guilt in his voice was palpable.
“What was I unaware of?” I asked softly.
“So much,” he chuckled, but there was only kindness in his voice. “But the important bit that you really needed to understand was the process. When engaging in kink, it’s important to not only consent to the things that are going to take place, but to understand the risks and understand the entire process from start to finish. I, like a dumbass, jumped in and threw my control out the window.”
“Well, you are a dumbass,” I chuckled.
“A fact known by all,” he responded. “Will you look at me?” he asked, and I could not deny him.
“Will you tell me?” I finally asked, accepting his words. At the end of the day, I knew one universal truth. Knowledge was power. It was why I snooped like crazy and tried to gather as much information as I could all the time. It kept me safe, especially here in Zion. If I wanted to be safe in this with him, I needed to know.
I turned to look at him finally, the happiness in his eyes shining brightly as he gave me his answer.
“Nothing would please me more.” Something within me, behind all the walls and safety shields I had painstakingly constructed, blossomed at his words.
“I’m all ears.”
Gideon
Thank fucking Christ. She heard me. I don’t know exactly what I had expected when I had made it to our locked bedroom door, but this had been my greatest hope. That she would set aside the fight I knew and loved about her and let it give way to the open vulnerability required for understanding. This was a moment. It was a massive moment. And I did not take it lightly.
“Thank you,” I answered, my voice tight in my throat, choked with emotion. “There is so much I could tell you about rope, and I want to if you are willing and interested. To keep it simple for now, I will say that rope work is a very serious and very dangerous activity.”
“Dangerous?” she questioned. I could see the hesitancy, the worry in her furrowed brow. For all the fear I felt radiating off of her, she kept those brilliant green eyes locked on me.
“It absolutely can be,” I admitted. “If a rigger doesn’t know what they are doing, it can cause permanent damage.”
“Damage?” she questioned, her eyes widening with concern.
“Placing ropes in the correct place is very important. You don’t want to cut off blood flow in certain places, and other places can cause nerve damage, especially if it’s not secured with proper knots. Some knots can continue to tighten as a submissive struggles or pulls against it. That makes it unsafe. So we have proper ties and we, as riggers, take it incredibly seriously,” I explained.
