It is a symbol of my desire of her, my passion for her, my prizing of her, my determination to keep her for my self, that she is worth caging and keeping. 

Being caged by my partner has always been a Big Thing for me. It is a literal safe space for me to just be, where nothing can get me and also serves as a pretty damn good reminder of my place within the relationship.

Having concepts like this manifested physically is for me, what BDSM is all about. The surrender, the trust and the devotion, just demonstrated in more literal ways that most people are comfortable with.

My partner built my cage himself, being the great metal worker that he is, and it is over-engineered to the point where even the eye-bolts are rated to a tonne. I don’t know what the hell he thinks I will be doing in there, but there is no way that I can get out even if I tried. It is a beautiful piece of art, and the first time I lay eyes on it, I crawled inside and fell straight asleep as it rocked, suspended from the ceiling.




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