I was making and selling excellent quality tie-dye garments for an income. But I wasn’t above playing music in the title for tips. When I wasn’t selling tie-dye at festivals and flea markets I was living on National Forest land, rent free of course. This was a life I loved but that business woman seduced me and laid her claim on me. While we were camping in a seclude spot in the desert this woman over powered me (with the help of some pepper spray) and wouldn’t allow me to leave. There was an element of blackmail involved so she had additional leverage on me. At the time I had no choice but to submit to her. But there wasn’t enough physical discipline so I would try to run away. She would always find me and make a big scene. We would wrestle and I would always end up with scrapes and bruises.
This was close to making the title I made in my childhood again but not quite. So I decided to check out the bdsm scene. That scene was mostly about sex, which is like the “dessert” of the experience, but not the most nourishing part. And everybody in that scene wants the submissive to volunteer their submission. Such a notion is totally absurd. The power must be claimed, otherwise it’s just role playing. Though role playing can be fun, it’s not something I would consider a mistake. In any case, this mistake that I made in childhood, by allowing myself to be claimed as property, that I wish to do again, is never going to happen. There’s just no demand for vintage pets or slaves. No matter what condition they’re in. But it’s still a fun fantasy for my darkest thoughts.