You enjoy the erotic tension of your own vulnerability. Absolved of all of your actions by your subservient posture, by your obedience, you are free. Or you imagine so. You are liberated from culpability by your degradation. If the police should come, these bruises, these serpentine cords, the stains on the carpet will all record your trauma. You have chosen shame over blame. It is difficult to say if this was a good choice.
"This journal is not a mere literary diversion. The further I progress, reducing to order what my past life suggests, and the more I persist in the rigor of composition--of the chapters, of the sentences, of the book itself--the more do I feel myself hardening in my will to utilize, for virtuous ends, my former hardships. I feel their power." --Jean Genet
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