And yes, I did turn the big thirty last month. As usual, I was able to celebrate it at kink camp – fortunately the thing about birthdays is that they happen on the exact same day every year. It was a blast, I did some sexy things, some stupid things, some amazing things, got tied up and pushed into a swimming pool, and was forced to ride a Sybian so long I was walking like a crab - up to and including the redness.

Now that we have herded the elephant out of the room, let’s get down to brass tacks with an emphasis on the “ass” there. At this point in my life, there’s easily a full dozen ways to describe what I am, what I do and who I am looking for. That being said, one nifty way I’ve found to describe my ideal people is the term FWB - by which I mean Friends with Bondage. As the title of this post hints at, bondage, alongside drawing and photography, is one of my favorite hobbies in life. I’d do it as a vocation if I could; I once proposed an idea for a spa in which one is just thoroughly, tightly and inescapably tied, gagged and blindfolded. It will be a way to either relax and sink into the feeling or to let out some energy with some vicious struggling depending on one’s temperament. Unfortunately, NY City Hall tells me that running it in my apartment, even though it has a permanently installed bondage rig, is a zoning violation. So, on the backburner that fantasy remains.

As a result, I present myself here seeking both online conversation and in-person play partners (and ultimately one primary partner but baby steps) who either derive pleasure from the thought of tying me the fuck up and thoroughly, massively gagging me, or of being rendered into such a helpless, distressed mess themselves. o make the point crystal clear, I am talking about just shoving your nasty, soaking wet panties into every cranny in my mouth and wrapping heaps of vet wrap over my big yapping mouth to seal it all in. That kind of thing.

Seriously, it is not that much of an exaggeration to say that bondage is a pastime I would engage in every day if I could. I’ve been tied and tying plenty, but I particularly adore being the classic damsel-in-distress, even if as a masculine spin-off of the old archetype, and being a tied up, quiet, helpless but still defiant and struggling captive. I want to be hogtied, wriggling, and backtalking you as you cram your filthy dirty socks into my equally filthy mouth to shut me up, as I fight and protest until the final moment when the stuffing is shoved into that big trap and the sound of duct tape coming off the roll fills the air.

At the end of the day, bondage is core to my kink and I am nothing if not open to suggestion. Rope and not-rope, Eastern style or Western, as long as somebody (ideally me) ends up helpless and writhing, I’m good, game and willing. Nevertheless, as a visual aid, I lean towards the classic helpless "damsel in distress" look you can see in the works of Dominic Wolfe, JJ Plush, Eric Cain, Steve Villa, and others. Restrictive inescapable ties, thick blindfolds or hoods, mouth-filling gags, and just relentless teasing and playing with.

But beyond that, the “friends” part means that beyond sexy kink, I want us to actually be friends. A casual engagement is fine but at the very least we should be acquaintances who care about each other and want nothing but the best for the other half. I’m already mature enough to use the 30 personals subreddit and I think that signals that it has become the right time in my story to sink more effort and energy into lasting connections. I live life by the ethos that if you’re fair to me, I’ll be fair to you.

Oh, and I did foreshadow that photography is my other big love. I am always looking for tied up friends to shoot. As a practical matter, it’s challenging to take photos if I’m the one with hands securely tied up behind my back.

But like Steve Jobs used to say: I’ve got one last thing. I am serious when I said that I have a special interest in gags. If your idea of sexting involves us talking about how we can gag each other so tight that we've choking on that thick wad, we're already off to a great start. Something about being totally helpless and voiceless, being unable to communicate and fully under somebody’s control really does it for me. Just cuff my hands behind my back, cram my mouth full of your wet panties and tape it shut, maybe with a vibrator stuck in me. I am willing to call that a date. It is even more affordable than a movie in this inflationary environment; plus reusing dirty laundry this way just has to be good for environmental sustainability. You too can help save the Colorado River by using your worn, dirty undergarments as a great gag instead of putting them through the wash.

I can go on for days talking about gags (oh the irony). It is definitely not a dealbreaker though; just a special interest.

In terms of geography, while it would be great if you were local to the NY metro, I travel a lot and am happy to start online with an eye on in-person visits some time in the future if we vibe – wordplay fully and shamelessly intended.

On that note, I’ve rambled for long enough, talking your ear off. Now, it is your turn. Sometimes, at this point, people would ask the reader to include this or that word to indicate they have read to the end. But let's make it more interesting. Answer this: How would you gag the fuck out of me?