Bind's Writings

People talk about meddling Mother-in-laws. Every family has some person who is meddling into the business of other family members. I did not have a meddling mother-in law. Instead, I had a meddling sister-in-Law. She was a holier-than-thou type with strong Mormon beliefs.

She wanted to make sure that other members of the family conformed to what she believed were moral values. Many of those values really were intolerance of diversity, and judgements of others. My sister-in-law was a particularly pernicious person. Outwardly she pretended to be saintly, but underneath her skin were scales. I doubt she was even aware of her narcissism, but it was her meddling that ended up doing me, and many of you a big favor.

When this website was just getting started, my self-absorbed sister-in-law believed that she was getting revelations from God. She perceived that she was a messenger from God sent to help save me from spiritual death. She found out about my new website, meninchains.com, and my interests in bondage. Both she and my (crazy conspiracy theory believing) sister decided that they needed to intervene. They staged their own "intervention" to try to save me from bondage and to convince me of the evils of being gay.

My sister-in-law told me that it had been revealed to her that my website could not possibly ever make enough money to support myself. (She always had a focus on money). She said that I needed to find work. She suggested that I get a job a McDonalds making hamburgers. Before I go further, let me say that there is no problem with someone working at fast food. But in this case, she was just putting me down as only capable of an entry level job. I have a college degree, have owned and operated two art galleries, worked as a professional comedian, flipped houses, and operated two companies.  On the other hand, she didn't finish college, she worked for a while as a travel agent and then her daddy gave her a job working for the shopping center that he owned. She never would have been smart enough to go out on her own. And this is fine for her. Some people are not born very bright, and it is great to be able to get the help from Daddy. But for someone like that to suggest that the best that I could do, after all that I had already proven that I could do, was a put down and slap in the face. It made me angry. But her comment soon became a challenge for me. I knew better than to listen to the nonsense that was spewing from her judgmental and mind-numbing mouth. I determined that I was going to find a way turn bondage into a profitalble venture. I was also going to try and help others who were struggling with families, like mine, who did not understand or tolerate their love of bondage, or of other men. So, I worked my ass off to make it happen. I worked 16-hour days for years building my business. 

This website, my jail facility, dungeon, and film studio are a testament of what happened when I rejected her meddling and took my own course of action. This website gets a million visitors per year. It has not made me rich, but has provided an adequate income (if that is what she was worried about). The important thing is who it helped. I have heartwarming testimonials from men who desperate but found their answers through my book or this website. In the past several years, I have been able to reach out to thousands of men who were struggling. Making all of the videos are fun. They give me an income to support myself, but what the website has done to help other men is much more important.

We who are gay and kinky have a lot of people who will drive negative energy to us. They think we are sick. Instead of letting them pull you down into the gutter of despair, prove them wrong. Have some dynamism. You are better than these petty-minded idiots. 

Well, sister-in-law, I proved you wrong. But in doing so, I must thank you. Look what you encouraged me to do. As a result, thousands of men have come out of the closet and accepted homosexuality and kink as something that is healthy. I cannot take all of the credit for this. I give the credit to you. You lit a fire under my ass. Thank you for helping all of these gay and kinky men. Thank you for helping other Mormons who were questioning their faith to leave the church and find real happiness. Thank you for driving me away from those who would bring me down. At the time, I hated you for it. But now I love you. I love you for your part in helping me to break away from the insanity of your ridged eighteenth-century belief system. I only hope that someday you might find a way to freedom from its grasp as well. Maybe you should try some bondage.  

I would define pornography as the graphic depictions of sexual acts where genitalia are fully shown in an excited state. Some people would think that porn is anything that could cause someone to get aroused. If that is the case, then everything is porn since people get aroused by all kinds of different things. I know people who get aroused by boots, jeans, beards, fingernails, feet, chain, jails, etc. My definition of porn does not include everything that someone might possibly get aroused by, but by direct depictions of sexual acts.

If you have ever gone to a zoo, they are generally divided up into different sections. If you watched the primates for any length of time, you will have undoubtedly seen them doing all kinds of graphic sexual acts that are identical to those done by us humans. Sex is a part of nature. It is natural. It is nothing to be ashamed of. So why don’t I want to view it in humans? We are, after all, a part of nature ourselves.

I am sure that one reason why I don’t watch porn is my religious and cultural upbringing. I was programmed from an early age to see sex outside of marriage as ugly and base. My programming taught me to see it as a very private and intimate thing. Even though I now reject many of the things that I was brainwashed to believe when younger, I am still uncomfortable watching hard core porn. It seems sleazy to me.

But there are other reasons I don’t view porn. I feel like many of the young adults who do porn are doing it out of desperation for the money, and not so much because it is what they really want to do. I wonder about what motivates them to perform. I wonder if they were pressured to do it. I feel like the people producing it might be exploiting some of the young adults who are not fully mature enough to make informed choices. Many of the people who do porn seem to have substance abuse problems. That is a red flag showing that they might have some serious mental issues going on. I know that there are some porn stars that are doing what they really enjoy, and have made choices based on what makes them happy, but if I was to watch porn, I might wonder about how truly consensual it was. I would wonder if they were pushed and pressured to do a little, or a lot more than they originally wanted to do.

Here is another reason why I don’t view porn. It doesn’t turn me on. It is as simple as that. I get more turned on by really suggestive content that I might see in a regular movie or television show than I get from graphic porn. A hot guy taking off his shirt is a bigger turn on to me than watching the sex act. Porn shows too much. It lacks the sexual tension that can be developed by a man taking off his shirt to reveal his muscular body. The embrace of two people kissing and hugging can be much more arousing than the final sex act. I have been to the zoo. I have read medical books; I have experienced it firsthand. I don’t need to watch a tutorial video showing it. 

There are a few real negative feelings I have about some porn.

Obviously, child porn of any kind is completely intolerable. Beyond that, I have a problem with some pornographers who kind of get around it. Some porn producers purposely find adults who are of legal age, but who look like they are underage to put in their porn. They are trying to appeal to those who would like to see underage people engaging in sexual acts. My feeling is that they are selling a product to pedophiles. They may be running a perfectly legal operation, but I feel like there should be no attempts to feed the desires to those who might be sexual predators. I know that there are people out there who are not pedophiles who just like watching very young adults who are barely legal. Personally, I was always attracted to mature men in their 30’s who were fully developed, so I know I am bias.

Some porn producers create content that has violence, or depictions of rape. They may be staged and consensual, but I have a real problem with it. I know that lots of people who are kinky have rape fantasies, and they want them to stay as fantasies. That is fine. We all have different fantasies and kinks. But there are also predators out there that are viewing the material and will act out on those fantasies as a result of watching it. Viewing extreme violence has the effect of desensitizing the viewer. What happens to some people in the military who get exposed to the violence of war? They get post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). There is no question that viewing extreme violence is mentally harmful. I could go on a rant about this. Maybe I will in another post.

Another reason why I don’t view porn is that it is usually not very creative. I find it boring and a waste of time. I know that this is perhaps a bit strange to some people, because I have been told that it is very addictive. For me, it is not addictive at all. 

If porn is addictive to you, I would advise that you need to question why it is addictive to you. Are you addicted because you think that you shouldn’t be watching it? Do you try not to view it, but then look again because you are tempted? If that is the way you think, I know your problem. You are having a crisis in your logical thoughts which is causing an emotional response. Instead of thinking, “I cannot ever do this”, take the pressure off of yourself. Instead think, “I can do this whenever I want to.” Now that you have given yourself permission to make up your own mind about things, you can tell yourself this: “I don’t choose to do this right now, I have other things to do. But I can still choose what I want when I want.” Your choices are yours; not what others impose on you. 

Do you feel guilty that you have desires to be tied up or to tie up someone else?  Do you feel distressed that you are attracted to the same sex?  I am not a therapist, but I have been around the block a few  times and I can tell you why you feel guilty and why you feel distressed about your sexuality. You feel guilty or distressed about your sexuality because you were raised in a society that does not generally accept those who are minorities when it comes to sexual interests.

How do you remove the feeling of distress and guilt about your sexuality? First you have to do your own research about such topics on the internet to find out if you are normal. Do not look at what preachers or politicians say. You need to research the science. Science undeniably knows that homosexuality is normal. There is no debate about it anymore among credible science that have studied and done the research. Research has also found that being kinky and interested in bondage and other safe kinks is also normal as long as you are keeping your life in balance and engaging in it with adults who also agree to do it.

Different religious and social groups have varied moral codes of conduct. These moral codes were developed many centuries ago by political and religious leaders. No science was used to create these societal codes of conduct. Some of those codes were basic common sense about treating others in a civil manor. But others were born out of a misunderstanding about the laws of nature and science.

If your moral code that you have chosen to live with says that homosexuality or engaging in bondage is wrong or sinful, then you will feel guilt and shame for being who you are. In psychology they call that, "Being in a bind".  In order to not feel guilt, you need to make a choice. You can go ahead and feel the guilt and unhappiness that the social group that you are associated with thrusts upon you, or you can choose to do some hard research on that church, organization, or social group that has the moral code that is making you feel guilty. If your hard research on that group shows strong evidence that they are selling you a false man made morality, then you have another choice to make. Do you stay aligned with that group anyway because of tradition and your comfort zone with friends and such, or do you turn away from the false organization to chart a new direction in your life?

If you find out that the society or religion that you are involved with is wrong on the issues of homosexuality or bondage that troubles you, and if you find out that science really does show that you are normal, then your guilt and distress about it will all go away (unless your involvement in your behavior is excessive to the point where it is interfering with other aspects of your life.)

If you stay aligned with the group that has the morality that you no longer agree with, you will have to deal with the clash of ideology between you and that group. This will be a point of stress and distress in your life. You will have to decide if it is worth it for you. If you sever the ties with your former group and ideology, then you will not feel guilt about your sexuality, and you will feel very liberated. But you will still face the prejudice and bias of the mainstream majority who are clueless as to anything that they do not experience themselves.

You will need a support group of peers with common interests. If you are gay, you will need to socialize with other gays. If you are interested in bondage, reach out to others who share the same interests. There are some Churches that are accepting of of homosexuals today. I believe that having a spiritual connection and some kind of religious connection with others is healthy and part of our needs as humans. So don't be too quick to throw out all religion. But if you can make the break from religion, that is great too. Just don't move to fast and get into the trap of overcompensation. 

No matter what you decide to do, you will have a tougher life than those who are heterosexual and "vanilla" (not kinky). You are part of a minority. Only ten percent or so of the population is homosexual. Less than half of the population is kinky. People who are prejudice are narrow minded and cruel. They band together and bully those who they do not understand. You will need to be prepared for that.

Along with other friends who are also kinky and homosexual, I welcome you to our fellowship of men and women who have common interests. Remember that you are not alone. Even though we are a minority, there are millions of us. Be proactive in doing the things that will make yourself happy. It will mean getting out of your comfort zone. Put in the work and effort and you will find a happier life. Live well, be a good citizen, help other people, volunteer in your community. Show the bullies and bigots out there that you are a good and decent person by your actions.  

 Are you prejudice about anything?  You are probably saying "no". But I am sure that you are prejudice about something. Everyone is prejudice about something.  Prejudice is the unsubstantiated prejudgment of something, some individual, or some group of people.  It is based on not having full knowledge about whatever it is.  Nobody has full knowledge of everything, so we all must have prejudices. 

Here is the full definition:  "Prejudice is unsubstantiated prejudgment of an individual or group, favorable or unfavorable in character, tending to action in a consonant direction".  

The hostility that prejudice can engender and the discrimination to which it may lead on the part of a dominant population toward an ethnic group, gender, religious or linguistic minority have caused great human suffering throughout history. Some researchers attribute prejudice to deep-rooted "fear of the stranger," while others cite religious or nationalist chauvinism, and fear of economic competition. Most, however, agree that prejudice is learned and can be reduced when members of different communities work together toward the realization of a common goal.   Prejudice is a hostile opinion about some person or class of persons. Prejudice is socially learned and is usually grounded in misconception, misunderstanding, and inflexible generalizations. The word prejudice is most often used to refer to preconceived judgments toward people or a person because of race/ethnicity, gender, social class, age, disability, religion, sexuality, nationality or other personal characteristics. It can also refer to unfounded beliefs and may include "any unreasonable attitude that is unusually resistant to rational influence."  One can be prejudiced against or have a preconceived notion about someone due to any characteristic they find to be unusual or undesirable.

A few commonplace examples of prejudice are those based on someone’s race, gender, nationality, social status, sexual orientation or religious affiliation, and controversies may arise from any given topic.  Like most minority groups, homosexuals and bisexuals are not immune to prejudice or stereotypes from the majority group. They may experience hatred from others because of their sexual preferences; a term for such intense hatred based upon one’s sexual orientation is homophobia. Due to what social psychologists call the vividness effect, a tendency to notice only certain distinctive characteristics, the majority population tends to draw conclusions like gays flaunt their sexuality. Such images may be easily recalled due to their vividness, making it harder appraise the entire situation. The majority population may not only think that homosexuals flaunt their sexuality or are "too gay," but may also erroneously believe that homosexuals are easy to identify and label as being gay or lesbian when compared to others who are not homosexual.

I have seen the ugly head of prejudice within my own family. I have a former "in-law" who could be the poster girl of prejudice and hypocrisy. I have seen her brag that she and her husband own a shopping center. People get the erroneous idea that she and her husband built up a multi-million-dollar commercial real estate company. The truth is that she inherited it from her daddy. There is poverty in intelligence as well as education that would make it quite difficult for her to obtain any lucrative income without her daddy providing her with the means. She is an active Mormon. She is fearful that homosexuals will somehow contaminate her family. In her thinking, anyone who is gay or into bondage is doing something evil. They are making "bad choices".  She presents herself as being wise and righteous. After all, she is one of the chosen white people who belong to the only true Church. But it is just a plastic façade. I doubt that she will ever educate herself enough to not be prejudice. She lives on blind faith, believing in the foolish traditions taught to her. There is no so-called Christian love and kindness to those who she does not understand or who are in the same social class as her. I find is sad that so many people, like her, get so programmed in their minds by their upbringing or religious indoctrination that they are closed minded and fearful of anything beyond the understanding of their little world. They would never even consider that some of their attitudes and thoughts are in error. They continue to hang on to their superstitions and bigotry. I cannot judge them for their fallacious thinking however, they have been brainwashed. 

Getting deprogrammed is not easy. So, we who are more enlightened need to remember that. We cannot be prejudice back, calling them bad or evil because they are so non-accepting of diversity. We risk doing to them what they do to us. We must take the high road. Slowly, over time most of society will become more tolerant and if we are patient with them and not be "in their face about it". We who are in the minority need to show that we are good people, helping to build a better society. The world is changing, and we can help it change for the better. 

"Prejudices, it is well known, are most difficult to eradicate from the heart whose soil has never been loosened or fertilized by education; they grow there, firm as weeds among stones."   - Charlotte Bronte

 Just as there is nothing wrong with drinking a little wine, or having a beer once and a while, engaging in bondage is also just fine. Eating food, having some chocolate cake, doing a little bit of gambling at Las Vegas for a day or two in moderation…all of those things are fine. When does it become addictive behavior? It becomes unhealthy behavior when it interferes with your job, family life, and social life.  If your life is kept in balance, then BDSM and kink, legally done, is not a problem. Things such as alcohol, gambling, food, sex, and bondage are enjoyable and can be addictive if not kept in check. As long as you are balanced and functioning in your relationships and responsibilities, those things are okay. But when they take over your life, you have a problem.

There are a lot of people out there that are engaging in addictive behavior dealing with kink and bondage that is not healthy. If you are spending more than a couple hours a day on Recon, Fetlife, Facebook, or watching porn, then you probably are exhibiting unhealthy addictive behavior. If you are neglecting your job, or not finding one, but instead are on the computer much of the day searching for bondage pictures and engaging in cyber networking rather than looking for employment, then you have a real problem. Just as too much chocolate cake is not healthy or too much gambling, too much focus on "bondage" and "kink" demonstrates a lack of balance in your life. If you just drift along in life and engage in addictive behavior, then you will eventually find yourself screwed in life. You will only have yourself to blame. Enjoy your kink but be careful not to fall into the traps of addictive behavior. 

I find it sad that so many people who are into bondage have to keep it in the closet. There is a fear of anyone finding out that they are into bondage because they will be considered weird or different. Yet if you look at the statistics for bondage toy sales worldwide, it is a multibillion-dollar industry. Bondage porn is everywhere. Bondage is portrayed openly in film and television. If bondage is so taboo, then why is it such an enormous industry?

We live in such a strange world where people of religious faith think that they are so good and righteous, when they are usually the most prejudice, dishonest, bigoted, racist, and mean spirited. There is so much hypocrisy in the world it is pathetic.

Why is it that homosexuals, bisexuals, and transgenders have to come out of the closet? Why do they have to go through that painful process of coming out? It is because of the prejudice in society. Heterosexuals don't have to go through the process of coming out. They don't have to worry about what others think of their sexual identity. "Hmm, am I straight? Yikes, I better keep this secret. What will others think of me if I let them know that I like the opposite sex? Those who have other sexual orientations related to gender or kinks should never have to go through the coming out process. Society ought to accept them as being totally normal as they are. Unfortunately, this is still not the way things are at this point. ust as there is nothing wrong with drinking a little wine, or having a beer once and a while, engaging in bondage is also just fine. Eating food, having some chocolate cake, doing a little bit of gambling at Las Vegas for a day or two in moderation…all of those things are fine. When does it become addictive behavior? It becomes unhealthy behavior when it interferes with your job, family life, and social life.  If your life is kept in balance, then BDSM and kink, legally done, is not a problem. Things such as alcohol, gambling, food, sex, and bondage are enjoyable and can be addictive if not kept in check. As long as you are balanced and functioning in your relationships and responsibilities, those things are okay. But when they take over your life, you have a problem.

There are a lot of people out there that are engaging in addictive behavior dealing with kink and bondage that is not healthy. If you are spending more than a couple hours a day on Recon, Fetlife, Facebook, or watching porn, then you probably are exhibiting unhealthy addictive behavior. If you are neglecting your job, or not finding one, but instead are on the computer much of the day searching for bondage pictures and engaging in cyber networking rather than looking for employment, then you have a real problem. Just as too much chocolate cake is not healthy or too much gambling, too much focus on "bondage" and "kink" demonstrates a lack of balance in your life. If you just drift along in life and engage in addictive behavior, then you will eventually find yourself screwed in life. You will only have yourself to blame. Enjoy your kink but be careful not to fall into the traps of addictive behavior. 

Mark Burnley, the owner of several websites including www.seriousmalebondage.com had a very interesting thing on his back deck that he built. They called it the “Deck Cell”. The first time I saw it in person was February 2012. I was invited to go up to San Francisco to experience some bondage at Mark’s place that we affectionately call the “Serious Bondage Institute”. I was given a tour of the place, then we went outside to the back of his house, and I saw it. The moment that I saw the “deck cell” I knew that I needed to be locked in it. The cell is located below his wooden deck. The wooden door that can be locked shut looks like part of the deck. It lifts off and the prisoner climbs down into the cell. The door is then put down, and one or two metal bars are fed through loops in the trap door and secured with heavy padlocks on each side. The cell is made of concrete. The cell slopes slightly toward the feet and is about thirty inches wide, and five feet long. In the tallest part of the cell it is just tall enough to sit in without hitting your head on the cell door above. There are seven large eye bolts for attachments embedded in the concrete walls; two of them at the head, one at the foot, and two on each side wall. I had seen pictures of the eye bolt being used, but did not see any where all of them were used at once. I made it my goal to get myself secured using all of them.

One morning, my friend Ted helped me get locked into the deck cell. Lots of chain and about twenty padlocks were used on me. My neck, upper arms, wrists, knees, waist, and ankles were all chained and attached to things. Chains crisscrossed across and over me to make the restraint more ridged. Then the heavy wooden cell door was locked above my head and securely locked shut. I spent a couple of hours like that, and then they came back and unlocked the deck cell door and took it off. Ted had some duct tape and wrapped it around my head and mouth three times. My mouth was glued shut. I struggled in my chains, lunging at him like a wild animal, but couldn’t move very much. Then they put a different cell door on over my head. This one had a metal grate in it. I could see light through the grate. I felt a little bit like I was locked in a sewer when I looked up at the grate. I heard my captor walking around above me, and suddenly the grate was removed and I got a hose full of cold water in my face. The grate was put back on and the lid was locked. They left me alone. I lay chained in the small cell for about three more hours. As the time went on I began to get quite cold. But there was no one outside to free me. I was a prisoner in isolation. I imagined that I was a captive locked up in a dungeon in some third world country to be tortured. The day drifted on. Things were going on in the world above me and people were freely doing things, but here I was, heavily chained and locked in a concrete cell. Finally, I heard footsteps. It was Dalton. He unlocked the door and gave me the keys to the padlocks and cuffs so that I could get out and warm up. I had a miserably wonderful time locked in heavy chains down in the deck cell. I enjoyed my time in the cell so much that I asked to be able to just spend some more time locked in it on the day I needed to head home. I ended up in it for at least five hours. After returning home, I could not stop thinking about that wonderful small, confined space. I wanted to go longer, much longer.

I am a man that likes all kinds of bondage. I enjoy variety, creativity, and extreme restraint. I am not the kind of person who does bondage, gets off, and then is done with it. I like to stay for longer periods whenever possible. Probably my favorite kind of bondage is imprisonment in cages or cells while secured with shackles and chains for many hours or even days. I like the idea of being locked away and stored. I have been imprisoned continuously in full restraints for over a week before. Imprisonment is something that I am really into, so the idea of something long term in the deck cell was very appealing to me.

In August, the opportunity came. I was invited to be locked up for 24 hours in the deck cell. I really wanted to go for a week, but 24 hours still sounded like it would be a great experience. My friend Ted was visiting the “Serious Bondage Institute” at the same time, so he agreed to help put me in. Before doing this imprisonment, I did several things to prepare. I decided to take the following items into the cell with me: A five gallon plastic bucket with a lid to put body waste into. Toilet paper, six sheets of paper towel to use if I needed to B.M. (the cell is not tall enough to do it directly into the bucket), one plastic cup to urinate in, four quarts of water, three nutrition drinks, six granola bars, a pad to lay on, a flashlight, a cell phone ( for emergency use only), and one blanket. I also took in a video camera to document the experience from the inside. The flashlight was only to be used to light things up while I was videotaping. The blanket was found lying on a sidewalk. It had been there for two days and was either used by a homeless person or just dumped there by someone. Having only an old used blanket for warmth was to add to the “third world dungeon” feel of my experience. I wanted to feel the poverty of living only with the most basic needs for survival. Mark had a lot of things to prepare for this as well. He ran a cable from his computer inside, out the door and to the deck cell. Part of the deck needed to be removed in order to run the cable and install a small infrared camera into the back of the cell. Another separate speaker and its wire had to be run as well in order to be able to hear me. Getting everything set up and tested took the most part of a day. Ted, Mark, Dalton, and Chuck were all involved in making this happen.

A little bit before 4:00 P.M. everything was tested and set. It was a perfect sunny day outside on the deck. The air was clear and fresh. Mark took a few pictures of Ted and I before I went in. I was dressed like a soldier. Ted wore camouflage pants, black pants, and army boots. I wanted to get into the mood of imagining that I was a prisoner of war. I dropped myself into the cell. My ankles were shackled, and a chain about 18 inches long was padlocked from the leg irons to the eyebolt at the back of the cell. Each of my wrists had thick metal shackles locked on them. They were locked to each side of the cell. I remember that there were 15 links in the chains on each side. A metal collar was locked on my neck and a chain was connected to the wall at the top of the cell. I lay down on my back and looked up. I could see the square of blue sky through the open cell. I saw Mark standing above the hole with a video camera, and then I watched as Ted and Chuck put the solid wood door down over the opening. I was plunged into the darkness. I heard the sounds of boots walking above me as they took two long metal bars and fed them through the loops between the door and the deck to hold the door down. I could hear the sliding of metal against the wood, and then I distinctly heard it as four large padlocks were locked in place securing the bars in place. The chain to my wrists was long enough that I could reach the cell door that was just a few inches above my head. I pushed up on the door. I could move it about half an inch up until the metal bars prevented me from pushing it up any further. I heard them talking up above me, but after a few minutes I heard them walking away. The sounds became distant as I heard the back door open, and they all went into the house.

This was it. I was all alone now. There was no turning back. Simply being chained to just one of the eyebolts would have captured me against escape. But I was secured to five eyebolts with ten padlocks, and then locked in the deck cell with four more padlocks. I felt very secure and locked up. In a few minutes my eyes adjusted to the dark and I was able to see the inside of the tiny cell. A sliver of light came in from the sides of the cell door above me. But it was very dim inside. At the far end of the concrete cage up in the corner was a small red glowing eye of light. It was the infrared camera. All throughout my time incarcerated, I wondered if I was being watched. One of the first things I did was to check all of my restraints. I checked each lock to see if it would open by force. Then I pulled hard on the chain that was locked to the eyebolts. Everything was secure, escape was impossible. Next, I pulled out the video camera that I had with me, and the flashlight. I started to videotape my surroundings. Right away I found out that the flashlight made to strong of a spot that made it almost impossible to see anything through the camera. I had a Kleenex tissue in my pocket. I put it over the lens of the flashlight in an effort to diffuse the light. It seemed to help, but made the video images dark. I realized we needed to check that out before I went into the cell. I managed to get something on camera as best as I could, but it was hard to handle the camera and the flashlight at the same time while also being limited by the short chains to my cuffed wrists. After a while in the cell, I realized that I had been sweating quite a bit. The air was warm, damp, and stuffy. When I put my hands or body against the concrete, it was cool. The metal chains were also cool. The shackles on my neck and wrists were warm and there was quite a bit of sweat under them. I was surprised at how much my body heat warmed up the whole cell. I could smell my own body odor and a slight smell of concrete. The first couple of hours flew by quite fast. I heard someone come outside and walk up onto the deck. I called out to them and asked who it was. I got no answer. I called again, no answer. I suddenly realized that, not only was I to be locked in the cell for 24 hours, but they were not going to communicate with me. I was being completely shut off from the world. This had turned into a scene about isolation.

I could get into a few positions. I could sit with my back against the concrete, legs straight out, but I could not pull my legs back in that position because of the chain to my leg irons. I could lean forward a little bit, but the chain from my neck would stop me from moving my head more than two feet forward. I could lie on my back legs bent, but could not lay flat since the cell was a foot shorter than my body. I discovered that it was possible to lie on my stomach with my legs bent up. But because of the chains to my wrists, one hand would be folded behind my back, and the other in front. When I went into the cell I thought that this would be “a piece of cake”. I would just relax and sleep through most of it; this turned out not to be the case. I was in for an ordeal that I shall never forget.

I lay down and tried to get a little bit of sleep. I decided to try and make a brief report every hour or two on the camera. I started to relax and drift off. Just about the time that I was going to fall asleep I heard footsteps over me again. I called out to him to see who it was. I guessed by the steps that it was Ted, but I didn’t really know. No one answered me. He stood on top of the cell door. I pushed up on it. Now I could not move the door at all. The half an inch of give was gone. In a couple of minutes I heard him walk off and go back inside the house. I could hear some wind chimes blowing outside, as well as a faint sound of traffic. Every time I moved, I heard the rattle of my chains on the inside. I thought about how the world was going on up above me. People were freely moving around the great big world out there. The cell was my world now. It consisted of only a few square feet inside of a locked concrete box. I noticed that the sliver of light around the sides of the door was getting dim as night was approaching. I wondered what the guys up there were going to have for dinner. They always go out to eat. I was quite hungry. In the excitement of setting up my prison scene I had failed to eat anything all day. Now I was going to pay for it. I ate my first granola bar and drank the first small nutrition drink. It took less than a minute to finish my dinner. I felt like I needed to pee. I got the plastic cup out and turned myself to my side toward my stomach and lifted myself up. I unzipped my pants then noticed the small glowing red lights on the other end of the cell. There was a camera watching my every move. Whatever I did could be recorded. I got a little pee shy and found it difficult to urinate into the cup. I tried to turn away from the camera as best as I could. I imagined guys inside the house laughing at me while they watched me urinating into a plastic cup. I took the lid off of the five-gallon bucket and dumped the smelly urine into it. I made another report on the video camera and then tried to get some sleep.

The collar around my neck was already uncomfortable. I was already getting sore on my skin from it. But it was locked on; there was no way to remove it or any of the other irons that were on my limbs. I wanted a pillow, but had none. I pulled the pad that I was laying on up a couple of feet then folded the top in half to create a make-shift pillow. When I laid back down it distinctly felt like the cell had gotten a few inches shorter. I knew that this was impossible, but it truly felt like it was smaller. I laid back and laughed for just a little bit. I was doing just what I like to do! I was a prisoner, and I loved it! I imagined myself as a prisoner of war who had been put down here for days so that the enemy could “break” me. I enjoyed the fantasy as the dim light completely faded into blackness. The blackness was wonderfully oppressive.

I tried to fall asleep but couldn’t. My mind was focused on the cell door. I kept pushing up on it to make sure that it was still there. In the darkness I felt like I was sealed in a tomb. I had that thought and suddenly noticed that the air was very heavy and stale. No one had ever gone overnight in the deck cell. I wondered if there was going to be enough air flow to keep from suffocation. I pulled my head up and put my nose to the small crack at the side of the cell door to try and get some fresh air. I got just a little bit. It was cool and so much more pure. But I had to strain to get to it, and there was so little of it. I put my head back down. Now the quality of the air seemed even worse. I wondered what it felt like to suffocate. If I fell asleep, was it possible that I wouldn’t wake up? I felt sweat all over my body as I worried about the air. I realized that I was starting to panic a little bit. I curled up on my side and laid my head right on the cool floor of the cell. I have been in a lot of bondage situations over the years, some of them were life threatening, and I had trained myself how to deal with feelings of panic. I was able to calm myself down as I brought myself back into reality. Nobody was going to let me die. I was being monitored for safety. I figured that if there was not enough air, I would get a headache or feel lightheaded first. If that happened, I would let them know and abort my imprisonment. I had a cell phone to use if I had an emergency. I relaxed and started to drift off.

It was around midnight. I had made a few reports on the video camera, and was lying down, just about to drift off when I thought I heard soft footsteps on the deck. I called out, but no one answered. I sat up and turned my ear toward the cell door to try and hear. There was a little wind outside. The wind chimes were still making that continuous sound. I listened for several minutes but heard no new sounds. My hearing seemed to be intensified while my vision was gone. I pushed up hard on the locked door, and then I lay back down. My focus was again on that damn door. Why was I thinking about that padlocked door? I began to relax again. I was quite tired and really wanted to get some sleep. Suddenly I heard a very loud sound above me. Someone was outside and had thrown a piece of wood on top of the cell door. I was very startled and irritated by the fact that I was now wide awake again, and on edge. During the night someone came out and dropped some screws or something that sounded like screws on top of the cell door one by one. I also heard the sound of chain being moved around. Each time I heard a sound over the cell door, I checked it to see if something on top of it had made it heavier. It did feel heavier, but couldn’t tell for sure.

Sometime into the night, it got a little bit cool. Not cold as my body heat was trapped inside the cage. But I pulled the old blanket up around me. I tried to sleep but couldn’t because I was so focused on that cell door.

If I was starting to get bored, I would get out the video camera and do a little commentary. At these times I would use the flashlight, as well as the clock on my cell phone to document the time for the camera. I never used the flashlight or cell phone for any other purpose. But I knew that I had those items with me in the cell which took away from the hopelessness of the situation in my mind. At 3:00 A.M. I decided to make another video commentary and I ran out of tape. I had already shot the whole hour of tape with more than 13 hours to go. I was surprised that I had already used up the tape. Now I would not have that to do anymore.

It was 3:00 A.M. and it seemed to me that the first 11 hours had gone by fairly quickly. It was very late and although the infrared lights in the corner, the only thing I could see, were still glowing, I thought that everyone had gone to bed. I had my cell phone for an emergency and figured that they knew that. They would all be in bed asleep by now for sure. I was so positive that I leaned up as close as I could get to the infrared camera, until the chain attached to my collar prevented me from getting any closer, and I spoke directly to the camera.

“I am positive that there is no one watching this. I don’t know if it is being recorded or not. But I know that nobody is hearing this. I am so sure that I will say this: If anyone can hear me, I am volunteering to go an additional 24 hours. Just leave me in the cell! That is my challenge!”

I leaned back and chucked at the thought of them finding that comment on tape many days after I had gone home. But I felt just a slight bit of nervousness in making the dare. I figured that it would just be a little fantasy mind game for me to pretend that someone heard it. I was quite sure that no one did. Suddenly I heard the back door of the house open and someone quickly walked up onto the deck right on top of the cell door and knocked three times. Then they walked back into the house. I couldn’t believe what was happening. I was in shock!

“Fuck! What have I done? Someone did hear me! What have I done to myself? Am I going to be here 37 more hours now?”

I lay down in disbelief.

“Shit, I can’t believe this! I totally fucked myself up!”

I was now wide awake. I felt screwed and imprisoned. Even with the shock of what I had done to myself, I was excited, I felt an adrenaline rush, and the feeling of helplessness was actually good to me. I tried to calm myself down. I threw the blanket off because I was really sweating. I could really smell my armpits and my skin felt grimy in the warm, damp, heavy air. I kept repeating to myself how much I had screwed myself up. Then I heard the back door open. The footsteps came back. I heard a voice. It was Mark. He reminded me that I could get out at any time I wanted to. Then he went back into the house. This was the only communication that I received. This brought me back down. I had forgotten that I wasn’t being forced to do this. I was a little bit sorry that he had brought me back into reality, but I know that he was worried about my mental wellbeing.

Now I knew that I was being watched the entire time. With that knowledge I decided to get rid of my flashlight. I pushed it away from me, and then used my feet to push it into the corner of the cell out of reach. In doing this, somehow my cell phone case, with the phone in it, got pushed away too. I felt around for it, but in the darkness did not know where it went. For the rest of my detention I had no access to either a phone or flashlight. The experience felt more intense and real now. More had been stripped away from me. I looked at the glowing red light and said,

“I am a prisoner now with no freedom or rights and I love it!”

As I lay down again, I realized that at past three in the morning I was still breathing just fine. The air was stuffy and smelled of a prisoner, but there was enough of it. I relaxed with that thought and finally fell asleep for a little while. I woke up shaken from a nightmare. I had a dream involving a family member being abducted. It was a disturbing awful dream. It was the first time I had a nightmare while in bondage. I tried to relax. I turned onto my stomach, but it was uncomfortable to lay with one arms forced behind my back, and the other across my front because of the attached chains. I turned back and the pad lifted up a little bit. I felt it with my hand and it was soaked with condensation. Everything was damp inside. I laid awake most of the night concentrating on that locked door above me. While laying there I heard a small buzzing sound as a tiny bug flew into my ear. I swatted it away. It came back a couple more times, and then I didn’t hear it any more. The time was now dragging slowly. I waited for some amount of light to return to the cell. I kept looking for the cracks around the cell door, but all that I saw was blackness.

I fell asleep again. I dreamed that it was the middle of the day. I was outside watching the scene. About six workmen came to Mark’s house. They were all wearing yellow hard hats. They wore jeans, but no shirts. They came around to the back of the house with drills. They took out long screws and screwed the deck cell door right to the deck walling me up inside the cell forever. I woke up from the dream and thought,

“Wow! That was a hot dream!”

Most people would think that it was a nightmare, for me it was an arousing and exciting dream. It was a fun dream to have while locked in the deck cell. I pushed up on the cell door just to make sure that it had not been screwed down while I was sleeping. It moved its half an inch. I was not permanently trapped. As I looked up, I noticed a small sliver of light. It was morning.

My stomach had been growling with hunger all night, so I drank another nutrition drink and ate another granola bar. Then I drank more water. I had drunk about a quart of water. I had plenty left. But I started to think about the possibility that I could have to remain in the cell another 24 hours, so I decided to conserve my food just in case. I very much doubted that I would be going another 24 hours now that I knew they were taking turns monitoring me. It would be too much work for them to do it. I did not know if they were recording anything with the infrared camera, so I gave short reports every so often and tried to guess the time by the small sliver of light above me. Eventually the cell was lit enough to see inside again.

Sometime early in the morning I knew that I was going to have to have a bowel movement. I took a sheet of paper towel and put it under my bottom. I lifted myself up with my hands. I could not see what I was doing, but I could certainly smell it. I went on the towel and then used toilet paper to wipe myself. It was a very soft stool. When I wiped, shit got all over my hands. I had not lifted myself up enough from the paper towel, and the stuff was all over my bottom. I cleaned everything up as best as I could and then I removed the lid of the bucket to dispose of the waste. The smell of urine and feces was almost overwhelming. It smelled like I was inside of a very smelly outhouse. The heavy damp air just made it worse. I sealed the lid back on and the smell subsided over time. But from then on, the smells of my imprisonment were much more intense. During the day I needed to urinate several more times, each time I had to open up the lid to the bucket and the smell of excrement was horrible. I leaned over and touched the blanket that was against the wall and felt some soft feces on it. There was shit everywhere it seemed. I tried to clean wipe it off with pieces of toilet paper.

The daytime went much slower than the night. Time dragged on minute by minute, second by second. No one came outside to check on me or play tricks on me. All I heard outside were those wind chimes and a few sounds of distant traffic. I watched the sides of the cell door to guess what time it was. Then I would lie down and nap. But the naps were short. I continued to be on edge and focused on the imprisonment. I got really hungry so I ate another bar and drank my third nutrition drink. I only had one left. I decided to save it for the next day just in case. It had been many hours. The day certainly must be almost over. I looked at the camera and guessed that it must be about 4:00 P.M. now. I would soon be released. I was feeling sorry that I would be free again soon; I enjoy being imprisoned so much. This awesome time in prison was about to end. About twenty minutes later I heard some people come outside. This was it. They were coming to release me. I heard the footsteps, and then some sounds of metal and movement on top of the door. The bars were being removed. I waited. I heard the footsteps again. They were walking away. They went back into the house. I pushed up on the cell door and it was still locked. They were playing a trick on me and would be back in a few minutes to really get me out. I learned later that it was not 4:00 P.M. It was noon. I was four hours off in my guess of the time. I waited for hours and no one came outside. I looked up and it looked to me like the sun was going down now. I started to consign myself to the thought that I would be going 24 more hours. I was prepared and willing to do it, but I also knew that the second 24 hours would be much harder than the first.

Finally, sometime between 5:30 and 6:00 P.M., nearly six hours after I thought that I was to be released, I heard them come outside again. This time the bars were unlocked and the lid was unlocked. They lifted up the lid and I was nearly blinded by the light outside. Once the shackles were unlocked I would be free. I took in a breath of fresh cool outside air as it rushed into the pit. They dropped the keys down to me with a leather hood and pair of handcuffs. I thought that the handcuffs and hood must have fallen in by mistake. Then they told me to unlock myself and put the hood on my head. Next I was to lock the handcuffs behind my back. I was more than a little confused by what they were telling me to do. Before I could ask any questions they suddenly put the cell door back on and locked it. Then I heard them leave. I was still screwed. They had no plans to free me yet. I had no idea of what they were going to do to me. I felt an excitement at the unknown as I unlocked all of the locks. Then, as instructed, I put the hood on my head and laced up the back. The hood had no eye holes so I could not see anything. I locked the handcuffs behind my back and waited in the cell. A few minutes later I heard them come back out. The cell door was unlocked and Ted helped me climb out of the cell. It wasn’t so easy with my hands cuffed behind my back. He led me into the house and I was told to back up. I could feel that I was being locked into a “stand up cage”. The cage was about 20 inches wide and one foot thick. It was made of metal jail like bars. Ted interrogated me as to what I had said at 3:00 A.M. He told me that they were going to have a consultation in the next room to decide my fate. I could hear a little bit of it. Chuck said that he thought it was time to release me and let me relax. Dalton wanted to throw me into the cell naked for another 24 hours. Everyone except Chuck wanted me to do more “time”. They came back into the room and said that they would discuss it outside where I could not hear anything that was said. I heard the front door close. I stood for about twenty minutes waiting. Then they came back and released me.

The scene was over. I cleaned up and we went out to dinner. I felt a sense of accomplishment doing 26 hours in the deck cell. I am so thankful to those who spent so much time and energy helping one prisoner to live out a fantasy.

It is important it is to keep a balance in life. Here are several areas in your life to consider.

Social: You should spend a portion of your life in relationships. You need a social life. Friends, family, groups, and finding a soul mate are important for your mental wellbeing.

Education: A portion of your life should be balanced with gaining more education. Just because you are finished with school doesn’t mean that you should stop learning.

Work: If you want to live a quality lifestyle, you will need to work. Not only does hard work pay off with getting the material things that you need as well as some of the extra things that you want, but it is also good for the soul.  Hard work is an important part of mental health.

Exercise: Getting regular exercise is part of staying healthy for both the body and the mind.

Service: Giving of yourself in service is a way to not only help humanity that is around you, but it helps your self-image. People who serve others are happier people. They are usually well liked, and when you help others, it helps yourself in many ways that you only discover later.

Recreation: Everyone needs recreational time. This is an important part of keeping your balance. For most people, doing the recreational things is not a problem for them to do. Most people spend too much time in their recreational activities and get out of balance because of it. But there are others who spend so much time working that they don’t allow enough time for recreational activities.

Spiritual: It doesn’t matter if you are religious, or if you are atheist. We all need a degree of spirituality in our lives. It is in our genes. Spend some time in meditation each day. We all need to get in touch with whatever it is that is deeper inside of us. We need time to sort out our lives and think things through.

Sexual:  We are sexual animals. Sexual tension is a real thing and sometimes we need to release that tension. If you do not have a partner to help you in this area, you can masturbate and pleasure yourself. It is a good way to get yourself more relaxed and helps to reduce stress as well as depression.

These items are areas in your life that need to be in place in order to keep yourself healthy mentally. If any of them is missing, then you are out of balance in your life. If you are doing too much of any one of them, you are also out of balance. Keeping the balance does not mean giving each thing equal time. It is about finding the right balance that fits you the best. Only you know what that is. It is always a balancing act to keep it all in check. Getting out of balance often results in addictions, health problems, and unhappiness.

I am going to give my opinion here in simple terms and will speak about this topic in a way that is appropriate even for less mature audiences. I am not a therapist, but I have done quite a bit of studying and have also been around for a while and have observed and spoken to a lot of guys about their sexual feelings. Traditionally, people who are wired to things such as "bondage" and other things not related directly to sexual intercourse with the opposite sex have been considered to have a paraphilia. This is simply a sexual response to objects that are not connected to the sex act. For many years paraphilias have been considered as a form of a mental disorder. Homosexuality was at one time considered a paraphilia. Today, if you are turned on by handcuffs for example, you are considered to have a paraphilia.

They used to say that people with paraphilias did not know how to love. THIS IS A FALSE NOTION THAT IS NOW OUT OF DATE! Science is discovering that people who have a sexual interest in other things and use these items of sexual attraction as props actually are better at making love than their counter parts. It used to be believed by many and still is by some religious fanatics that having a paraphilia is un-natural or a sin. THIS IS FALSE INFORMATION! Almost everyone is wired to objects that are not actually sexual. This wiring is to greater or lesser degrees, but men get a feeling in their sexual organs from many different things totally unrelated to sex. Sometimes when they have bought a new car or clothing, they feel a small amount of excitement in their sex organ. Guys may deny this fact, but it is true.  I am not saying that it is necessarily a strong sexual feeling, although it can be, but the brain sends a response there as well as to other parts of the body such as the heart and nervous system.   I know that most actors feel a slight sexual high from the positive response from an audience. A straight man getting sexual excitement to women's legs or breasts is normal, but it is a form of a paraphilia if you think about it. Nature has wired us to feel things in our organs more than we have realized. Our brains are wired to every part of our body, and every part can be affected at once by different stimuli. Like fingerprints, no two people are wired exactly the same way sexually either.

My personal conclusion on paraphilias is that it is quite normal in most cases. Like anything there is always the exception to the rule. Some people developed sexual wiring from bad things that happened to them. But, good or bad, once you are wired, it is going to pretty much stay that way.

Some people are wired sexually to things that are socially unacceptable and potentially harmful to others. I am speaking of pyromaniacs, sexual predators, pedophiles, and sadists who want to act on the desire to hurt or kill.  Those people face a true battle because their brain is wired sexually to something that is very harmful to themselves and others. I feel sorry for those people, because changing that wiring is about as hopeless as trying to change the wiring of a straight person to make them gay. Unfortunately for them, for the safety of the rest of us, they must lose their liberty if they cannot control themselves.

For we who are wired to enjoy things that others may find strange, there is no harm as long as it is legal, safe, and doesn't hurt anyone physically or mentally. So go ahead and play with those handcuffs. 

I used to work as a professional escape artist. I did quite a few stunts in my life, but they were escapes. I wanted to do a burial experience where I couldn't escape. In 2011, After months of planning, my friend dug a hole seven feet deep. The plan was for me to be buried alive in the hole over the top of my head in a very planned and controlled way. I wasn’t sure how he would dig me out, and I wondered why the hole was so deep. But I had trusted my friend to work out all of the details of the stunt. 

Another friend of mine came with me to observe, photograph and videotape the scene. We arrived at 8:15 A.M. and were ushered into the back yard. I put on a pair of board shorts and climbed down into the hole. When I reached my arms up, I could barely reach ground level. I put on a gas mask with intake and out take hoses that were attached to an apparatus with a bladder so that he would be able to check my breathing.

Dirt was shoveled down into the hole as I stood there. It took a long time for the dirt to fill up around my body. When the dirt was up to my waist, he got a long board and packed the dirt down with it. I could feel the pressure as the dirt was compacted around my legs and waist. At this point I realized that there was already no way out. I was trapped. He continued to fill in the hole and I began to disappear into the earth.

He filled the dirt right up to my neck so that only my head was sticking out. I thought that he would stop there, but he just kept filling in the dirt. In fact, he began filling it in faster. He took a shovel full of dirt and threw it into my face, then on top of my head. It filled in around my head and I was unable to move my head anymore. When the dirt filled up to the lenses of the gas mask, I knew that in only seconds I would be covered totally. I watched as the dirt piled up and covered the lenses.

It got dim where I could see just a little bit of light, and then with a couple shovels full more; I was plunged into absolute blackness. I could not move at all. I was able to hear the dirt as more was dumped on top of me. I could also feel it as the weight continued to increase. I thought that he would stop filling in the hole once I was buried over the top of my head, yet for several minutes I could still hear shovel full after shovel full of dirt being tossed on top of me. I started to wonder how deep I really was. It felt like my head must have been four feet or more below the earth now. I started to breathe harder with a feeling of panic knowing that it was quite possible that I could die in this hole. I felt quite a bit of pressure on my chest, but not so much that I was unable to breathe. But the air that I was getting was coming through a long tube, so the air seemed somewhat stale.

I heard him stop filling the hole and then I felt it as he jumped up and down on top of me. The soil compacted tight around my head, and I felt some compression as it pushed my head down toward my neck. Next, I heard something that sounded like it was being drug across the dirt above me. I didn’t know what it was. I found out later that he was raking the dirt smooth above me to hide any evidence that anyone was buried alive in his back yard. I felt as though I was permanently sealed in concrete.

I stayed down there for a long time. I had a panic attack and felt like I was suffocating for a little while but then worked out the panic in my mind and started to meditate. Eventually I was so calm that I began to dose off a little bit. I had a fear of falling asleep while buried because I was afraid that I would never wake up. After about an hour, the compression pushing my head down to my neck was getting unbearable and I was feeling faint. There was intense pressure around my forehead as well which was giving me a headache. I begged for him to dig out my head part way. Fortunately, he had arranged it so that he could hear me through my air hole. He dug out the top of my head and I was able to move it up a little to relieve the pressure. He re-filled the hole over my head but didn’t pack it down. I remained in darkness and was still unable to move.

Over time I started to feel stress on my lower back and on the bottom of my feet from being in the standing position. I struggled as much as I could to free myself but could move nothing at all. Sweat was dripping down my face and into my eyes as I fought for my freedom. I was hopelessly encased in the dirt. I knew that I was totally helpless and at the mercy of my captor. He had total control over my life. He could have very easily cut off my air and left me buried in his backyard. I imagined him installing sod over the top of me or even pouring a concrete patio on top. I knew that there was a real possibility that something could go wrong, and I would die. It was scarier than hell. Just before the two hours mark, I started to feel some panic again. I was feeling faint and was having trouble trying to control my breathing. I couldn’t tell if I was breathing too much and hyperventilating or not enough and getting asphyxiated.

I began to moan, and he started to dig out my head. When the light hit my face, I had to keep my eyes tightly closed, and even then, the light was intense. After a while my eyes adjusted to the light. I spent another hour buried up to my neck waiting to get dug out the rest of the way.

He had a parallel hole dug beside the one I was in and once that was dug, he was able to get to me and dig me out. As he was digging my out, I began to get emotional and cried just a little bit as I realized that I had done something that many people will only fantasize about. I felt euphoric and happy. I couldn’t help thanking my friend repeatedly for making this experience real for me. I came out of the hole around 1:30 in the afternoon. I was covered with sweaty mud.

It took two days to recover from the burial. My muscles were sore; I had a little bit of congestion from the dust, was dehydrated, and was exhausted from the struggle. Wow what an intense ride that was! I will likely not do it again.

(A video of this experience can be found in the "Documentaries" play list) 

There are a lot of people who know very little about people who engage in BDSM, “bondage” and other activities that in many areas are still considered taboo.  It is unfortunate that there is a lot of incorrect judging of what people who engage in what many call deviant behavior are like.

People who engage in BDSM and other so called kinky activities come from all walks of life.  They are not a bunch of geeks as I heard one person who had a deficit of intelligence say.  In thinking about the people who I have gotten to know personally who engage in these activities, here is a list of some of the occupations of some of those I have associated with.   Accountant, Screenwriter, artist, farmer, teacher, musician, professor, psychologist, radiologist, dentist, C.E.O., Chairman of the School Board, Scientist, Social Worker, Policeman, Firefighter, electrician,  postal worker, salesman, professional diver, actor, film editor, nurse, lawyer, stockbroker, mortician, piano teacher, software engineer, concrete worker, engineer, florist, web designer, construction worker, social worker, councilor, Rabbi, priest, cab driver, tax collector, commander in the Navy, real estate developer, human resources manager, professional athlete, prison guard, writer, banker, truck driver, advertiser, and others I cannot think of at the moment. The types of jobs and lifestyles of these people are as varied as the rest of the world.

Are some of the people into bondage and BDSM weird and misfits?  Of course, some of them are, just like some people in the vanilla world are too.  Are there some bad people who do these kinds of activities?  Yep.  I have met some pretty dishonest crooks and some real bad and dark people in the bondage community. I have also met some pretty dishonest people and really bad and dark people who have no interest in “kink” and “BDSM”

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Are they all a bunch of left-wing liberals?  Nope.  A lot of them are because they usually vote for social change for the better.  I have met some pretty right wing conservative republicans who are deeply into BDSM.  I know some people in the bondage community that have obvious mental problems.  But I have met even more people out of the bondage community with mental problems.

I have not found any real common denominator for people who are into bondage as compared to those who are not.  Neither seems to be smarter or more balanced than the other.  They come from all religions, and from all nationalities.  They have varied personalities and outside interests and hobbies.  They are neat or messy.  They are rich and poor.  Most of them keep their bondage interests very secret.  It has been estimated that 30% of the population has or does engage in some kind of what may be considered deviant behavior that is not within the “box” of social norms.  I think that it is likely more like 80 or 90 percent.  We know from one study that 49 percent of men surveyed said that they got turned on by “bondage” in some form or another.

So, to answer the question posed in the title of this article, what are people engaged in bondage and BDSM like?  Like your next-door neighbor who is mowing their lawn right now, like your sibling who just sent you a birthday card, like your coworker that you had lunch with this afternoon or maybe like you.

For most people who are into "Bondage", there is a strong sexual component, but not always.  Bondage is not always about sex. Below are various reasons why I think that people engage in bondage.  Most people don't engage in it for all of these reasons but have a combination of some of them that they are wired for.

1. Relationship oriented bondage where there is a huge imbalance of power. A lot of trust is involved in the power exchange. The subordinate enjoys giving up all of the power to the dominant. Within agreed upon limits, the subordinate to pain, degradation, and restraints.  Master slave relationships are most often loving relationships from my observations. The Slave desires to serve and be the property of his Master. The Master wants to take care of his property and keep his slave happy and fulfilled. Certainly, like any relationships, there are a few unhealthy ones just as there are in the "vanilla" world.

2. Thrill seeking: The restraints can give the person a feeling of being in peril, which results in an adrenaline rush. Skydivers, mountain climbers and race car drivers have similar if not the same motivation for engaging in their sports. Most people into bondage have engaged in self-bondage where they restrain themselves and no one else is involved, it is not relationship based. (It may be in the fantasy as they act out in some cases though)

3. Sexual feelings: The bondage gives both the captive and the dominant sexual stimulation. I would guess that over 95% of those who engage in bondage get aroused by it. Many people are not able to attain a full orgasm without using bondage props in their foreplay.

4. Relaxation: Certain forms of comfortable, yet restrictive bondage where there is deprivation of the senses can cause a deep feeling of relaxation and euphoria. For some people 15 minutes of restrictive bondage is equal to a couple hours of sleep. Some practitioners of bondage say that the feeling is spiritual in nature.

5. Endurance: Part of doing bondage for some of us is trying to endure pain, stress, or long periods of bondage to see how much we can take, but more important, to get to a point where we can endure the pain and reach new levels of consciousness.

6. Punishment: There is a turn on for many to be punished and abused. This is not always about a relationship based on love. In fact, it could be quite a different kind of relationship, but trust is still involved usually. I am not sure what this is about, but most of those who are involved in this kind of play or fantasy are normal people. It may be an extension of the thrill seeking and adrenaline rush. It also can help pull out certain emotions that may be difficult to get to.

7. Tactile sensation: The feeling of certain objects against the body with various levels of pressure gives different feelings. For example: Being mummified or put in a straitjacket feels like a big hug all around the body. There might be the sensation of feeling safe. This may go back to childhood or even to the womb. I like the feeling of rope, metal, and other restraints against the bare skin. There seems to be a different form of comfort for people who are into bondage.

8. Experiencing the good versus the bad. There is an old adage that you cannot really experience good, or comfort, without experiencing the bad, or discomfort. When released from a severe and uncomfortable or oppressive bondage, it really feels good to get into my own bed and feel the comfort and compare it. If you lose your freedom and rights for a period of time, you may appreciate them better when you are free again. The contrasts between extremes seems to heighten the senses.

9. Escape: Role plays and being bound are a way to escape from reality and be someone who you are not, perhaps someone more daring or a rebel. In other cases, the helpless person.

10: Freedom: Bondage can free the mind from worries. If you are physically trapped, there is nothing you can do about those things that need to be done. You are being forced from being able to do them. It gives a carefree feeling. It frees you from having to think and make choices. It is a way of getting permission to not have to think about your responsibilities.

11: The feeling of being more masculine (or in women’s case) being more feminine as a result of the bondage. I feel very masculine when I am held in heavy chains or handcuffs. I think it looks cool.

12: Attention seeking: When you are being restrained, you get a lot of attention from the Dominant or those who are capturing you; getting that attention feels good. If great pains are being made to keep me from being able to escape because I am considered an escape risk, I feel more important. Some people enjoy doing some form of bondage in public; it may just be a leather collar or small chain and lock.

13. Seeking out higher levels of "spirituality" or self-discoveries.  The native Americans and many of the Asian cultures practiced bondage and masochism in an attempt to feel "spiritual" In 2012 I was able to get my mind to have a "going into the light" experience that was the same as "near death" experiences.  I was not near death but simply restrained comfortably like a mummy and was quite safe.  Many people talk about having "out of body" experiences.  I have felt this as well a few times too.

14. Play. Bondage, particularly those that involve role plays are an extension of the playing and make believe we did as children. As adults it is enjoyable and fun to continue to play. I have noticed that nearly every drug store carries plastic or metal toy handcuffs for children to play with.  Children love handcuffs.  They love to play "cops and robbers".  Well guess what, some of us adults still like to play cops and robbers.  I emphasize "play".  Just because you are pretending to be something in play does not mean that it is what you want to be in real life.

If you enjoy "bondage", are you sick or mentally ill?  The answer is, probably not.  Most people who engage in it are quite normal and adjusted people.  Sure, there are a few that are mentally ill, not any more than in the mainstream world.  In fact, studies have found that the majority of people who engage in bondage are less prone to depression and are happier. Bondage becomes a problem for people who want to engage in it, but refuse to because of societal pressures, and not accepting themselves as diverse and unique.  They are not allowing themselves to be themselves.