Here, we do not starve. We feast.
They come to us seeking to lose control, not understanding that true submission is the ultimate act of control. It is a conscious, deliberate choice to place one’s power, one’s will, into the hands of another. There is no surrender more profound. The novice believes the one holding the leash has all the power. The enlightened know it is the one who willingly puts on the collar who truly dictates the terms of the beautiful, bruising dance. To give is an act of strength, not weakness. Remember that.
— M.
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Our members arrive wearing masks, yet it is only here that they feel free to remove them. It is a delicious paradox. The world demands we wear the mask of conformity, of propriety, of the person we are supposed to be. It is only in the shadows, in the sanctioned space of shared transgression, that the true face can be revealed. Do not be mistaken; the masks we wear tonight are not for hiding. They are for permission. Permission to be, finally and completely, yourself.— M.