Mercy

“Today I want you to find a ten minute porn video that you like and send it to Me by the time I finish work.”

That’s five hours away. my stomach drops and i nod miserably. my brain immediately starts up a cacophony on loop, overlapping noise of “i can’t do this. i’m not ready. that’s so soon.” i’m working out the logistics – i finish at four, They finish at five, an hour to find something where i don’t cringe to death at the thought of sharing it. And i have to browse while They’re sitting upstairs. Fuck.

“We’ll use it in a scene tonight,” They say. “And if you don’t find one, you don’t get to cum.”

It’s not completely out of the blue. They floated this idea a while ago and i expressed a cautious interest when it was just an abstract maybe some time idea. Playing with shame is definitely a thing for me – and i like to be pushed. Hard. But i wasn’t expecting this – not now, not so fast, and i’m physically shaking as i return to work. i can’t do this. i can’t do this. i can’t do this.

i’ve had my labia stapled shut twice, i’ve had nettles stuffed into me via speculum, i’ve done high-realism rapeplay with strangers, and i’ve done scenes where intentionally triggering my childhood trauma is the point. Not much scares me, and i don’t know exactly why this does so much. Watching porn has always been not just a private thing, but a secret thing for me. i attached a huge shame to it young that never shifted. It’s not about the content. i like some rough, nasty, degrading shit – as you’d expect with the kinks i have – but i have no trouble sharing that those kind of things turn me on. But something about sharing specific videos feels too raw and vulnerable. Some combination of religious upbringing, gender roles, and the decades i spent repressing my kinks and sexuality as a whole blend to make this a really big deal. i feel stuck.

Over the next hour, i literally worry myself sick. i’ve had a bit of a runny nose all morning and was fighting it off well, and i have an array of minor kink related ailments – a fresh brand, an inflamed breast from rough handling, and a headache and nausea from my “bimbo shots” of melanotan. Anxiety takes me from being a bit under the weather to feverish, bone tired, and achy from head to toe. i ask Mx if W/we can play tomorrow instead and if i can have a nap after work, and They agree.

i’ve expressed no serious misgivings to Mx – i told Them i’m scared, which is normal and honestly, it’s kind of the point. But They don’t know i’m really struggling. Right now, this is just how W/we navigate illness. In a relationship where my consent is none of my business, how does taking a night off from free use work?

Free use means free use, but illness happens. In O/our contract, illness does not grant me the right to revoke consent – because i specifically asked that it would not when W/we negotiated it. Power exchange feels more real, more secure and more meaningful to me if there are as few get out clauses as possible. However, O/our contract does state that i must inform Mx of any illness and how i feel it may make certain things more challenging for me. Whether that’s “i feel too poorly to enjoy play at all” or something more minor – that breast injury i mentioned, where i told Them “any more damage to it will delay my healing, and its painful so i’ll have a stronger reaction than normal.” Their responsibility is to use the information i give Them to make reasonable decisions. i like to genuinely suffer, so where the line is between good-awful and bad-awful can be pretty blurry. The trust comes in letting Them define where it is drawn.

Because this type of relationship takes – in case it wasn’t obvious – an enormous amount of trust. They have my trust, without question. But what if They misused that responsibility? If i told Them i have a migraine and They repeatedly slapped me across the face just because They can? If i was so feverish and delirious i couldn’t get out of bed and They decided now was the perfect time for a heavy beating? If i gave Them feedback – “You’re pushing me too far, it’s more than i can handle, you’re damaging my health” – and They continued? That’s how trust is broken. One of the very few ways i can revoke consent in O/our agreement is by ending the contract if They are not using Their power responsibly and are endangering my wellbeing. Their right to use me as They please is conditional on Them taking care of me as a valued piece of property and me, crucially, knowing that no matter how hard W/we play.

So, given that by the time i let Them know how i’m feeling i’m barely able to stay awake, They agree immediately. No play tonight, and see how i’m feeling tomorrow. After work i nap, W/we eat O/our way through a giant takeaway munch box, and i get an early night. i think, maybe i’ll feel better about this tomorrow.

The next day i feel physically much recovered – and therefore absolutely terrified. The promise of an orgasm is not fixing it at all. i’m usually a big fan of scared-horny but i have officially found a level of discomfort where i’m too scared to be remotely turned on. Initially i ask for another day – i have lots of tasks to do after work and i genuinely don’t know where i’d find time to browse for porn, and adding time stress to this seems like a bad idea. They agree, and as W/we talk afterwards it all comes out. The extreme anxiety, the internal paralysis at the thought of even trying, the way it’s hung over my head since that first command.

“W/we don’t have to do it if You don’t want to.”

And this is why i trust Them. Because They can force me. i’ve not only agreed to that, i’ve actively encouraged Them to do so. To push me, to take more advantage of the agreement that W/we have, to play with genuine discomfort and fear because that’s the place i want to be taken to the most. But They can tell the difference here. It’s not like the other day, when They woke me up in the night to fuck, pulled the blankets off me while i whimpered in the cold and slapped the drowsiness out of me repeatedly. i didn’t like that, i didn’t want it, but i needed it, craved it, floated on a crazy high after it because for me, not being in the mood is the fastest way to get in the mood. This feels different, and They can tell.

“i do want to,” i say, and it’s funny because that’s the first time i actually have. The fear is awful but the masochist in me doesn’t want it taken away. Please, god, no. “i think it’s just too quick – the deadline on it.”

W/we talk it out and come up with a new plan – i have to the end of the month. i’ll be allowed orgasms – at Their discretion, as normal – and there’s no rush. If i haven’t felt able to do as instructed by the end of the month i need to tell Them, and W/we’ll likely abandon the idea. If i do, then i show Them when i’m ready. The relief is huge.

Because yeah, They had the option to keep the deadline as it was. And maybe i’d have been fine – sometimes pushing through fear is exactly what i need. Or, maybe it would have broken me. Too much unprocessed shame getting stirred up all at once and i’d have hated what They did with it and been shaken up afterwards. Maybe i’d have acquired a new hard limit. Maybe i would have just had weeks of crappy mental health to slog through. Those are the things They consider – not just “can I” but “should I”. my consent becomes Their property, just like the rest of me, but that doesn’t mean it sits on a shelf gathering dust. It becomes Theirs to use as a guide for how They respond to my needs and how They manage my care.

Now, of course, O/our contract has no legal power. If i just said straight up “no” to this scene or any other scene, just because i’ve signed a piece of paper that says They can force me or punish me for my refusal doesn’t mean They legally can. So is all of this just performance? Am i asking for mercy for show, when what i mean is “i do not consent”?

In my view, no. The contract is legally meaningless, but it is not psychologically meaningless. my submission is, in many ways, involuntary – i lose desire for my freedom before i give it away. The commitments i have made in O/our relationship mean everything to me. If my partner pushed me hard enough for me to want to break the contract, i believe two things would be true. Firstly, They would likely be doing something harmful enough to have breached the contract, effectively ending it. Secondly, They would not be the person i chose to give myself to.

Last time i asked for more time to process an idea of Theirs was the first time They suggested breast impact. Now, it’s on the list of play i’ve asked for this month. A little bit of mercy goes a long way. Sometimes i need space, time, and care to come to terms with a new challenge – to grow in the quiet space before it into the submissive i know that i can be. To be absent the fear enough to miss it, to crave it, to chase it down hungry and desperate. To become ready to serve Them better, to break my own self-imposed limits and find out what i can be on the other side. Mx’s role is, in part, to help me navigate that – to know when to be firm, when to be gentle, when to be terrifying. Pushing me in a constructive way – using Their authority to help me grow beyond fear and shame – rather than with brute force.

So will i do it? Probably, yeah. The decision will be Theirs, and it will be guided by my needs, my fears, my shame and my submission. But whatever i ask for, whatever They choose, whatever magic and madness W/we create together, i will know i am safe with Them.