I had a “cage day” one weekend at W’s, during which one of my assignments was to write a list of all the men I have fucked. The weekend of this event, as a matter of fact, though for the life of me I can’t recall if it was later on that same day, or if my cage day was the day before that rather spectacular beating. Doesn’t matter, I suppose, except that looking at the two photos I am amazed at what a different picture they each represent. Both of myself and of W.
Relaxed, playful, carefree.
Brutalized, subjugated, submissive.
Both me. Both him. And blissfully happy either way.
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