Am I allowed to want ‘not wanting’ to sacrifice this? 

Can I consent to not ‘using’ consent? 

And what does it even mean to ‘use consent? 

I first encountered consensual non-consent in my early years of sadomasochistic exploration when living in Montreal. It was part of the old-school, or old guard, acting out a fantasy of the Victorian household, much like the Story of O in its investigation of erotic enslavement. The basic idea is that the submissive surrenders all control over the play. So there are no safe words. I’ve met countless submissives claiming they can only truly let go if there is consensual non-consent. Because if they continuously need to evaluate the situation by asking themselves if this is what they want, how can they ever surrender? So they dream about trusting and dedicating themselves entirely to a dominant.

Still, many of the dominants I have met have felt that they couldn’t or didn’t want to feel together with their partner, and therefore became entirely dependent on them to verbalise when things are enough. One solution is to negotiate in detail beforehand so everyone knows the play’s intensity, which kills the mystery. Part of the longing in consensual non-consent is to have another decide how much is enough. Why ever embark on an adventure if the journey ahead is entirely predictable. It comes down to balancing insecurity.

I think human beings are fascinated by challenging the status quo. Either by doing it ourselves or by watching others. Look at any reality show or based-on-a-true-story film—especially the crazy characters that break laws and social rules that others fight to uphold. In a way, they represent another perspective on what it means to be human. They feel feelings and do deeds that others commonly only dream about. One can remain in their safety bubble by watching, reading, or imagining another doing it. The sadomasochistic play offers another way to step into fantasy and first-hand experience. A full-on immersion. But how deep do we want to go, and how uncomfortable do we want to be? That is the fundamental question that consent is trying to answer, and is it possible to leave this to another to decide?

The Dream About Unconditionality

I think many people dream about unconditional surrender. The subconscious can drape it in taboo fantasies about rape, drugs, and enslavement. Or paint a glorified picture of a god. An omnipresence that always gives us exactly what we need by knowing our place in this story better than ourselves. One may appear dark, and the other light, maybe even as good and evil, but ultimately these are the same kind of longing in their striving for complete loss of control. This is a poetic form of return to innocence and freedom from responsibility. However, dominants will screw up because they are only human, so they will forever be a false god that, after the play is over, goes home with their aching back and sore knees. So is it wise to put it all on them?

In a controlled environment it is not difficult to appear omnipresent. To be good enough, for a submissive to experience the surrender as unconditional. Yet just like pretending to be that false god, this is a kind of fiction. Humans, as opposed to gods, are empathic, so even the most sadistic and iron-willed dominant is constantly influenced by the submissive. Especially if the submissive is generous in sharing how they feel and how the action of the dominant impacts them. My experience shows, however, that is exactly the kind of play people long for in a united dance. When the dominant can voyeuristically enjoy their partners’ experience. Depending on how much trust there is in the relationship, the play might take more or less crazy turns. For example, is the dominant open to flog the submissive until they sigh in pain or the skin bruises, or until tears are flowing and the marks look in danger of becoming permanent? With consensual non-consent, this is almost entirely in the hands of the dominant.

The polarity between a submissive and a dominant must be mutually beneficial in the long run. It depends on both providing each other with something the other can’t achieve alone. Otherwise, there will be a rebellion in the best case and, in the worst, death. Because why give up control if there is no benefit? If one is forced into submission by physical violence or emotional manipulation, it is abusive. So one way to think about consensual non-consent is that it’s up to the dominant to suggest the exchange. In the short run, the submissive will agree because it’s part of the agreement, but it has to benefit them both in the long run. Consensual non-consent can be something that counteracts the lazy tendencies of the mind, the weakness of the flesh or the social complexity of life in general. However it can also bring us to places we could barely imagine possible and show us that we are far stronger than we thought.

Consensual Non-Consent As A Result Rather Than A Means To An End

In my experience, as the intensity of power dynamics increases in a sadomasochistic relationship, it can become more challenging for the submissive partner to articulate their desires. This is not just due to a rational expectation of compliance within the dominant-submissive narrative, but also because the body releases endorphins during play which can inhibit critical thinking and make the submissive more accepting of anything that happens. It can feel like falling in love with the play temporarily, but love is not rational, and so it becomes increasingly challenging to depend on a safeword or pre-negotiated consent. 

Instead, Ideally, a healthy sadomasochistic relationship should build trust through mutual devotion, which can lead to a dynamic of consensual non-consent. I almost wish to believe that this outcome is inevitable for all sadomasochistic relationships in which the polarities have been pushed far enough. This can be a conscious shared goal, a subconscious longing or a slippery slope to a destructive relationship. Ultimately, consensual non-consent can be a consequence of the power dynamic rather than a conscious choice. However, until you get there, it’s crucial for both partners to learn when to stop and establish boundaries.

40 

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.