Bondage, and how you tie yourself up for me
I cannot reach through the phone, so you do the work, which I have always thought is better. You get what you have, and you follow what I tell you exactly. Wrists behind your back the way I describe. The clamps where I say. Then you tell me, and I make you wait while I decide whether it is good enough.
Being restrained by your own hands, on my orders, with no way to blame anybody else for the position you are in, is a heavier thing than being tied by someone standing over you. Every knot is a small decision you made. I make sure you know it.
For pain sluts
I found out what I was at a concert. I got pushed into the pit; I had to hit back to stay upright, and the more I swung the better I felt, until I came while stomping on a man’s hand hard enough to break fingers. I have never dressed that up for anybody, and I am not going to start.
So when I take you through flogging, caning, CBT, ball kicking, or clamps, I am not performing cruelty on you. I am enjoying myself, and you can hear the difference immediately. That is what most of you are actually chasing. Not the pain. The fact that somebody genuinely wants to give it to you.
