the REAL tea is they actually don't give a shit about consent, they just make a big song and dance of it so that they can't be held accountable for their actions. like 'yeah actually it's totally fine that i gagged bound & beat my girlfriend, bc we have a safe word and she didn't use it so obviously she consented :)'. another thing: the entire purpose of the safe word is so that they can ignore 'no', 'stop', 'enough', 'get off me' etc and feign ignorance
Here’s some real tea, honey. Don’t try to pretend you haven’t at least once unconsciously uttered “no,” “stop,” or something similar during sex without actually intending to revoke consent. If you expect me to believe that, then like, what, when you heard about lesbian bed death, did you also get starry-eyed, listlessly sigh “wow, sapphic relationship goals~ 🤩👰🥰💋💅,” and then suddenly start moaning like a slow, creaky door, nearly fainting from feeling the closest thing to an orgasm your frigid cunt’s ever had?
in moments of fear and panic it'll be almost impossible to remember the extremely specific safeword. "oh but you didn't say 'pasta napolitain with extra olives' so🤷♂️"
Guess what, daffy heifer. Whether you want to believe it or not, even during the most vanilla and unambiguously consensual sex, moments of intense pleasure are much more likely to automatically elicit a “no” or “stop” than to make someone open their eyes, blink, and calmly state to their partner, “I can barely string together a complete sentence right now; however, what you’re doing to me is extremely erotically stimulating and pleasurable. It’s overwhelming my senses and emotions in a way that makes it very difficult for me to describe them in words at the present time. Nevertheless, you have my consent to continue. Carry on.”
Since stopping to reaffirm consent could ruin the moment as much as something like that would, safewords might sometimes even be a good idea for people not into kink, too.
If you genuinely still can’t understand why safewords are a thing or how they’re actually chosen and used in real life, go find someone to rub your neglected, atrophied clit with a rusty metal dish scrubber, and decide if you’d rather have the safeword for it to stop be “titty skittles” or “Trans people are human beings, and I should treat them with more respect than I have for myself right now,” because your cringing, wincing, and “no”s could be mistaken for struggling to decide whether you can feel anything down there yet.
I was in San Francisco once during some sort of massive kink street parade (Folsom Street Parade)
If you were wandering the streets in the middle of the Folsom Street Fair, you knew exactly what it was and consented to be there. Everybody who lives and works in the vicinity is notified of what is going on there in advance. If you truly had no clue what the hell this event was, then you must have peeked out from under your rock once and saw something you didn’t want to see, which is unfortunate, but you apparently decided to keep having a looksee at it anyway. That’s your own fault, Gladys Kravitz.
I hoped an asteroid would hit. I had no idea this was going on so completely against my will I had to be subjected to dozens of penises. At the time it just seemed so ridiculous that we were supposed to celebrate men acting out their sexual fetishes in public.
And you seriously think you’re not ridiculous or petty? You wish an asteroid would fall from the heavens to smite people with genitals you’re not attracted to just for having them and using them at a kink festival—one that you’re more than free to get yourself away from at any time?
Look, I don’t like the Folsom Street Fair, either, and it makes me feel extremely uncomfortable, too, to put it mildly. That’s why I don’t waste my life or sanity deliberately gawking at it for the sake of launching myself into unhinged, pearl-clutching histrionics. You’re not a lead-poisoned, neurosyphilitic nobletwat who got yanked out of Victorian England and yeeted right into the middle of a hardcore, all-male S&M scene at Folsom. And your attempt at acting the part is overwrought even by Victorian standards, so just stop, ok? Even if I lived in the midst of where Folsom happens, that still wouldn’t interfere with my choice to keep my exposure to it limited to zero. Don’t like what you see, but can’t stand to stop looking at it, either? That’s not Folsom’s problem, babydoll.
I think this was the first time I started to think that conservatives weren't so wrong about liberals
Either, no, it wasn’t, or you’re so lacking in self-awareness that there’s no way you’re not honest-to-God borderline mentally retarded.
Like this wasn't progressive
As far as I know, the Folsom Street Fair doesn’t take an economic political stance, but I’m admittedly not as obsessed with it as you seem to be, so I wouldn’t know for sure.
it's a symptom of moral decay and it's a slippery slope.
Parroting fascist talking points word-for-word.
I saw this sort of shit too, at the Melbourne Pride March over twenty years ago.
And here you are, still partying like it’s 1999 over it.