I want to wear lace, lace on upper thigh and hip, along my spine and around my throat. Lace over my heart. If I may wear lace.

Leather would be delicious Yes, leather boot, leather glove leather squeezing against belly and breast.

White cotton is nice, clean and fresh billowing from my waist, buttoned against wrist, collar cool at the nape of neck, I would wear cotton.

I'd like to wear ribbon, lacing things down lacing things up tied in a knot in my long hair. Satin ribbon, silk.

Let me think for a moment, the ways I can bind myself even tighter than these.

I don't know what you have done to me, maybe nothing, maybe i have done this to myself. What am i searching for? What hand could possible still this mad rush, but my own? I would never.

Have i tried to tie myself down? Oh, and lie there as quiet as death. Who would set me freedom? You asked me, what does it feel like for me? To be bound in chains like that? Oh b, it feels utterly free.

But no, i am not still, for my own skin is electric, and who could catch me? Only a hand of quick wit, a hand of strong bond, a hand that would stand that hot sting. Is it you? Are you hungry enough? Patient enough? Cruel?

The freedom to move and race and tease is mine, I am fast and alive, my bondage is my speed, my flight, constant creation, utter commotion, can you set me free? Can you hold me down and take me?

I had told him about how when I was young-- 8 years old! How I had those tools to hurt myself with, just a little bit though, clothes pins and string and whatever this tool is called, here on my desk, vicegrips. I've already used them and it is the perfect tool for what I like. the feeling of how brutal and cold and mindless the metal is, and how sometimes a sharp edge catches something delicate and there's nothing or no way to defend yourself against the hand behind the tool that was made for splitting screws or forcing them through solidness, and tools made for unfeeling matter, for metals or concrete or wood, tools made for every purpose without the thought for how it might fit into my flesh and cause me pleasure and pain. I was always a creative child.