Not a Euphemism: Negotiation Is the Most Intimate Part of Play
TikTok video from 2023-02-11
“Negotiation? Is that code for something else?”
This is a question I hear often—usually asked with raised eyebrows and a bit of hesitation. The word negotiation can sound clinical or even misleading when used in the context of kink, BDSM, or consensual power exchange. But the truth is: it’s not a euphemism, and it’s not secret code.
Negotiation is exactly what it sounds like: a clear, honest, informed discussion about the terms of an intimate experience.
And in the world of ethical kink, it's a non-negotiable part of the process.
Let me walk you through what it actually looked like for me, in a recent scene with a well-experienced partner who came prepared—not just with gear, but with presence, communication skills, and deep respect.
Our first negotiation centered on one essential question:
What do we want to include in the scene?
He gave me a variety of options, and I had complete agency in choosing from them. There was hot wax, hot soap (which is rinsed off rather than peeled), floggers of varying intensity, electrical play, and even mummification. He had an entire closet of toys and tools, which he introduced not as a show of dominance, but as an offering of choice.
That’s what negotiation is at its core: collaborative choice-making.
I asked questions. I shared preferences. I expressed curiosity—and limits.
Once we outlined our activity, the next step was to discuss risk.
This part is non-negotiable in ethical kink spaces. Every tool, every touch, carries potential physical, emotional, or energetic impact.
If we included impact play, I needed to be aware of the possibility of bruising.
If we used staples (yes, real surgical staples), there was a risk of breaking the skin and drawing blood.
With hot wax, there’s a risk of minor burns, depending on the temperature and method.
Every single element was discussed transparently—not to scare, but to empower informed consent.
Ultimately, I chose to experiment with the staples. We used them to create a corset across my body—an experience that was equal parts intense, beautiful, and transformative. I picked the ribbon color. I chose where the staples went. I selected the least painful placement. At every point, I was in control of what happened to my body.
Before the scene began, we disclosed relevant medical conditions to one another. This ensures both partners are operating from a place of safety and integrity.
And just as importantly, we negotiated aftercare.
Aftercare refers to the process of tending to the physical and emotional needs that follow an intense scene. For many submissives (or bottoms), a scene can lead to what's called subspace—a euphoric, trance-like high caused by the rush of endorphins. It’s very real. And for me, it can be so intense that I’m not safe to drive until I’ve fully “come down.”
So we planned ahead.
After the scene, he made sure I had time to rest, hydrate, and re-ground. He sat with me, talked with me, offered blankets, touch, and space. We built in time to integrate the experience so I could safely return to my life outside the scene.
We also discussed whether sex would be part of the scene—and what kind of sexual interaction, if any, would be welcomed and appropriate. This was not assumed. It was mutually defined and explicitly agreed upon.
In many circles, especially those unfamiliar with BDSM or kink, these practices are misunderstood as wild, dangerous, or reckless. But what I’ve found—over and over again—is that the most conscientious, communicative, and respectful lovers are often those involved in kink communities.
Because in this world, nothing is assumed.
Everything is discussed.
Consent is not a checkbox—it’s a conversation.
Negotiation is how we protect ourselves and each other. It’s how we build trust. It’s how we honor the power of what we’re doing—not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually.
So no, negotiation isn’t code for something shady.
It’s the foundation of ethical, expansive, consensual intimacy.
And when done well, it can turn a scene into something more than just “play”—it becomes a ritual of trust, transformation, and deep connection.
