Just slip this restricting bodice over your back, Jack.
Make a new plan, as to our deployment of safe words and variations therein, Stan.
You don’t need to be coy, Roy, as a stipulation of Article VI, clause 6c. of our agreement, which expressly precludes said behavior.
Just get yourself free of these Cambodian burlap bindings—they’re not nearly strong enough to hold you to the ceiling.
Hop on this rotating scale for your weekly BMI measurement—you’re looking a bit plump this week, I do hope you haven’t been sneaking chocolates!—Gus.
You don’t need to discuss much, as I imagine the ball gag makes such discourse challenging, anyway. Not to mention the slab of granite I’ve saddled to your back, like a rented Oaxacan burro, and which I’ve currently arranged my collection of large-format Bauhaus retrospectives.
I’ll drop off the key, Lee, to these new ankle binds I picked up on my way back from the greenmarket. They inspire more confidence, and, I suspect, provide more versatility in binding, and the like.
Though I trust you won’t use it to get yourself free, pursuant to Article XXI, sub-section ii (initialed here), which expressly precludes said behavior.