Regardless of how deviantly fabulous our sadomasochistic evolution is, trust is still the elusive underlying fabric of all play. When our partner says, I don’t trust you anymore, it often feels like the doom curse that slowly will destroy the relationship. But it’s almost as scary when someone we never met says, I trust you completely. Charles Feltman, author of The Thin Book of Trust (2008), offers one symbolic reflection of this that I find beautiful.

Trust is choosing to make something important to you vulnerable to someone else’s action.

Distrust is when that thing is not safe anymore.

Charles Feltman

This level of trust is exactly what sadomasochistic play requires. The submissive transfers control to the dominant, whose deviant desires get exposed. Another way of expressing this is: I need to know that it is safe with you if I show you my demons and darkness. Together with Brené Brown, the author of The Power of Vulnerability (2012), Feltman presented a breakdown of trust that I think applies to sadomasochism and esoteric eroticism.

Boundaries And Reliability In Trust

According to Brown and Feltman, trust consists of several aspects, the first two of which are boundaries and reliability. That is, trusting that my partner will respect mine and communicate theirs – and doing so reliably over and over again. This applies to both prenegotiated and on-the-fly consent, and has four components:

  • Trusting that I can express my boundaries.
  • Trusting that my partner will respect my boundaries.
  • Trusting that my partner will express their boundaries.
  • Trusting that I can respect their boundaries.

As all these aspects of trust are bi-directional, it requires both the ability to express and to respect oneself and the other.

The next aspect is accountability, trusting that I can hold my partner accountable when they break my trust. Similarly, I will be held accountable—this means informing me about any distrust and being given a chance to earn their trust back. Unfortunately, it is often hard to admit when trust gets broken because trust is seen as a virtue. The result is often passive-aggressiveness. So a tip is to ask about accountability when feeling distrusted and to name the elephant in the room by, for example, saying.

I think that I hurt you by doing XXX, and I think that broke your trust in me. Do you want to try to reestablish that? And what do you need to trust me again?

You hurt me by doing XXX, and now I don’t trust you anymore. To trust you again, I need you to do YYY. Do you want to try to reestablish the trust?

Expressing this bluntly requires a gold medal in conscious relating, so maybe, just maybe, it’s more likely to go along the following lines. In the moment just before the first touch in a bondage session with a recurring lover, maybe you notice that the breathing doesn’t naturally adjust to the same rhythm, that soft touch feels sticky and itchy, or that the floor all of a sudden feels too hard. Maybe it’s just the stress from the hectic life outside, or maybe something is off between you, so you say…

I don’t feel comfortable right now… maybe it’s you… maybe it’s me… maybe it’s the universe… I don’t know. I’m sorry. I need a break.

And that’s a good indicator that analysing the trust between you and your partner is called for.

Accountability also has four facets:

  • Trusting that I can hold my partner accountable.
  • Trusting that my partner accepts accountability.
  • Trusting that my partner holds me accountable.
  • Trusting that I accept accountability.

All these aspects are also bi-directional in another way that they are a privilege extended to everyone involved in the sadomasochistic play, independently of whether one is dominant or submissive. And I think this is the big one when playing in a space between safety and bravery, because things will eventually go wrong. And if that can’t be handled or sorted out, then it will be very hard to trust.

Brown and Feltman go on to explain other important aspects of trust: privacy and integrity. Sharing private things with someone and trusting that they will be safe with them. Sadomasochism is often taboo and regarded as very personal. Of course, it is hard to know what my partner shares about me with their friends, but I can understand how much my partner gossips in general and guess that if others’ secrets aren’t safe, then mine are not likely to be either. So I don’t kiss and tell.

The final components of trust that the authors delineate are non-judgement and generosity. This means trusting that my partner accepts me for who I am and that they are not trying to fix me or turn me into someone else, that there is no hidden agenda. We need to feel that our partners are generous in their interpretation of us.

Saving Those Who Knows How To Swim

It’s the last day of a retreat, and we are making this ritual of being seen. Everyone is wearing blank white masks covering their entire face. One by one, people are given the opportunity to uncover their faces and show something vulnerable in front of the group; this requires trust. One girl is crying underneath her mask, and it’s clear that she is finding it very difficult to show herself. She then sings the most beautiful folk hymn that leaves no one untouched. Then she sits down again next to her friend, who whispers, “Don’t worry, love, it’s over now; you never have to do that again.” completely destroying the heroic victory over her self-doubts. The friend was probably shit scared and didn’t trust that she had conquered her own fears. Distrust was born into their relationship at this moment, which lasted for a long time afterward.

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Standard Edition. Paperback. 499 pages.


20 

80Mb 7-day digital download. 499 pages.

It took forever, but my book is finally available—either as a printed paperback or a downloadable PDF. Watch the trailer on the left!

Dear unknown friend, to access the adult-rated material you must create a free account and log in. This is due to social media and their algorithms. Sorry for the inconvenience.

FIRST PARADOX

BEING AND DOING

SECOND PARADOX

SELF-SACRIFICE

AND SELFISHNESS

THIRD PARADOX

SELFISHNESS AND

HOLDING SPACE

FOURTH PARADOX

UNITY AND POLARITY

FIFTH PARADOX

SYMBOLS AND REALITY

FIRST RITUAL

SUBMISSION

SECOND RITUAL

DEVOTION

THIRD RITUAL

REJECTION

FOURTH RITUAL

DESIRE

FIFTH RITUAL

DEATH

“M”

Rituals and paradoxes- the intimacy of belonging in sadomasochism and esoteric eroticism by Andy Buru.

“Take my hand, follow me, be not scared, I got you”

“You do not need another guru, do not follow the man with a beard”- the words echoe in my mind when I start reading “Ritual and paradoxes- the intimacy of belonging in sadomasochism and esoteric eroticism” by Andy Buru, professional Japanese rope bondage practionner/teacher: besides almost being named guru, he indubitably takes a position of authority by publishing himself, and considering the subject matter and that I do in fact have some first hand experience of Andy (double-entendre intended) – should I not be a bit scared and keep distance?

Drawing from his extensive experience as teacher, body worker and personal life, Andy approaches the subject through a set of paradoxes that are defining sadomasochism, or “eroticization of pain and power”. These paradoxes create polarities which sadomasochism explores through careful and compassionate play with the inherent tensions that varies between individuals and the power dynamics of ”dominant/submissive”. The resulting book, a solid block of nearly 500 pages, reaches however far beyond an introduction into bdsm, a guidebook, or a collection of personal reflections.

Instead, the aim is to bring attention on esoteric qualities of sadomasochism, as in the ritualization of sexuality towards enlightenment or union with God/Divine. Sadomasochism, with its inherent polarities, has according to the author a high potentiality to address deeper needs usually associated with spirituality, such as belonging, submission, self-sacrifice, and devotion, which according to the narrative are not promoted in our pleasure-seeking western societies (“joy joy lala land”) that mostly focus on achievement and selfishness, on “doing”. The sadomasochism that Andy presents and cultivates provide thus as a contrast a safe playground to discover or further dive into meaningful and transformational states of being.

So what am I holding in my hands? First of all I cannot hinder to be seduced by the format and structure. After all, the presentation is significant when your topic is rituals, and the writing project in itself is introduced as mystic for the author: a compact volume beautifully segmented all in black and white by the paradoxes that define sadomasochism, visually chaptering the thought in numbered lemmas/verses, accompanying poetic lines followed by a clear, straightforward prose, occasionally punctuated by Andy Buru’s warm humour, at the rhythm of sneak peaks into his very intimate (at times thick and sick) diary. Abstract concepts are both cleverly illustrated and made tangible through illustrations and a selection of tastefully curated photographies taken by the author himself during his sessions, seducing with their raw beauty and display authentic vulnerability.

“Rituals and Paradoxes” is a companion to anyone’s own paths of self-/collective exploration- practical or intellectual. Andy Buru acts as a Virgilius, not taking down seven levels of hell as one might associate sadomasochism to, but truly accompanying the reader on a journey. His written edifice is a temple where the dark meanders of eros find light and love, in which the paradoxes are pillars and a room for rituals are formed/performed, and where the self is absorbed in the community. Pushing the comparison further, one might find that the fragments of experience that Andy Buru shares, at moment heavy and intense as incense, are counterparts of the vibrant paintings hanging in the side-choirs of a baroque church. (The dramatic lives of saints and martyrs, full of suffering and self-sacrifice, are after all early tangents to the world of bdsm).

The Reading of “Rituals and Paradoxes” could be an invitation into a sacred place with many shrines and as such be decisive or it may stay at the level of a mere tour, an exotic sight-seeing of deviancy and perversion, depending on maturity and receptiveness of the reader. One anecdote from the book (or should I qualify it as a votive picture in adoration for the Japanese culture and to which the author is so indebted?) may provide some evidence of the author’s expectations on the reader: a flower arrangement school in Japan, where everyone gets the degree, but you would, by paying proper attention, be aware of if you actually got to the deeper sense or not.

I think that the strength of the book comes from this sensible approach, where the mystery, despite being unfold for us and made available in words, by the end of the day needs to be “felt” as well, or to paraphrase the first paradox, “to be”. Regardless of your previous experience in bdsm or more generally within sex, or your degree of self-knowledge, the book has nonetheless something essential to offer as an invitation to discover or further explore the vast inner universe that is yourself and your sexuality, but also, by making you sensible to the esoteric dimensions involved in bdsm and thus to elevate your practice to a profoundly metaphysical act.

Yes, Andy, maybe I will take your hand, and follow you, I am not scared, you got me.