Welcome Dixon Mason.
I am glad that you are here. Even though I consider you a friend, I’d like to get to know you better. So I ask you some questions.
"Do you believe that bondage allows for a more true expression of the self?"
You explain that, for you, bondage creates a space where you feel able to express feelings that might otherwise be difficult, unacceptable, problematic, or too just vulnerable. The bondage creates a safe space to roam where you usually don’t.
It might seem funny to remember those words you spoke as you are zip-tied to the front of a cage with a leather hood over your head, your panties pulled down, and some bitch biting the fuck out of your tits. Or when you’re tied bent-over the back of a chair, legs for the taking, head locked in place, and your tits swinging with each stroke of the cane.
I know I laughed at the hilarity. The clarity. The hilarious clarity. Irony. Dichotomy. Free to express only when you can’t physically move.
"What, then, do your bondage expressions say about your own inner self?’
I feel we finally arrived at a bit of clarity for you. Your sobbing suspended body would at times be overtaken with bitter tantrum rage. This seems important for you to be able to express. To let it out.
You felt that sex in general can allow for a truer, more vulnerable expression of the self. Your response to the suspended, hair-tied, ball-gagged ass fucking was very honest. I appreciate it.
Are you still my friend?
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