Bondage Blog

Here’s Barely Pink on being held in bondage:

Even when I’m bound, I’m there willingly. I slip my hands through the ties, spread my legs and offer my ankles. I pull against my restraints, more from instinct than desire, feeling the futility of fighting in the bite against my skin. I crave that futility.

Resistance is a friction that lubricates my legs. Helplessness is a freedom that releases my strength.

It isn’t submission that holds me there. It is he who holds me — our bond, impenetrable; our rope, invisible.