Lying in darkness, wrists placed gently above head and tied together with something soft but oh so effective. If I moved my hands a millimetre in any direction i can feel the blood pound in their veins..bound to perfection. The reason for not knowing what ties me is that the blindfold was placed the moment I entered the house. All I saw was a white painted wall in the porch with a beautiful black and white image of…something, I’m not sure what – I didn’t have time to see but something ethereal and sensual. Like black silk swirling together with the darkest chocolate.
My darkness is all consuming and with no commands as of yet, in fact not a word as passed between us, I am left alone with my thoughts. Dangerous thoughts of the delicious sensations to come. Pain is such a bizarre thing – feared by so many, an certainly I fear many types of it. But whilst the pain he delivers to me would be, on occasion, unbearable in any other situation, with his expert hands as the bearer, it turns into something so much more. Decadent, alluring, inviting…something I want more of, even when I feel I cannot take another second; I always find that I can.
My thoughts have whirred in my head for half an hour, at a guess. This building of tension is the hardest thing…knowing it is necessary for me to have time in my head as ‘sub’ to prepare for what is to come does not make it any easier to get through. I want his hands on me. Gentle, tempting, insistent, sharp…agony? Sometimes.
I know he has entered the room by the sheer chemistry which burns between us. I do not hear him, and certainly I cannot see him, but I know he is there. His presence by the door, moving stealthily and silently across the room. Perhaps undoing his cufflinks? Rolling up his sleeves revealing his beautifully tanned forearms? Taking off his tie? Undoing the top button?…he had come straight from the office. Just how I like it, with the days scent still on him…I could breathe him in forever and never get tired of it.
With my breathe catching and ears straining to hear where he may be means I jump when I feel his hand take mine, just for the briefest second, a sign to say…I’m here; I love you my little sub, before his fingers begin to trail down my arm like a whisper. Down my left side they go making me squirm as he hits my ticklish spot, another kind of torture entirely! When his fingers reach my waist I feel his palm join them in gripping me, his thumb over my stomach and remaining fingers tucked neatly underneath on my back. He hold me there for a moment…how can one hand make me melt like this? His control over me, or should I say, my lack of control over him makes me shiver and heat radiates into my body from that one single point where both our bodies merge. Finally his hand continues its journey down my body…following the curve of my hip, just touching by backside before sweeping down my thigh. When his hand reaches my knees I feel it come away from me and be replaced underneath both knees. His other hand now reaches under my shoulders and he lifts me away from my supine position and into his strong arms. My bound wrists find themselves instinctively reaching around his neck and I rest my head briefly against his strong shoulder. I feel him sit and for a moment we sit there together in silence and thought. His neck stiffens and I sense it is time for me to move my hands from their clasp of his neck. He takes them, lifts them expecting me to follow, turns them and lies them back down on the bed. My submissive body follows his silent instructions to perfection and I find myself over his knee, the tops of my feet and toes resting gently on the floor, knees bent slightly, head positioned facedown between my arms with the weight on my forehead, hands clasped in anticipation just beyond.
His right hand strokes my hair before piling its length into his hand, twisting it around once and gripping it firmly forcing my head up and back. My eyes open instinctively, my mouth drops open just a little as a thrill of excitement dashes through my body. His left hand starts a dangerous journey from neck, to back before finding its final resting place. The first smack tells me he means business tonight if that was meant to be a warm up. Although harder to deal with initially as the pain rains down upon my unsuspecting skin, after the initial 20 or so, the radiating heat starts to follow, and the delicious trail of pleasure from that more than makes up for the few tears which escaped seconds before.
As his hands picks up speed and the spanks grow steadily more painful, my mind sinks into space and, along with it, the weight of my head. With my hair straining in his hand I feel myself slipping further and further away from the situation into peace. He stops momentarily and caresses what must now be a very pink backside, as his finger tips pitter patter down my thighs I know that that is his next port of call, and sure enough I feel the next slap hit the back of my left thigh firmly and without apology. I whimper…the first sound to have escaped either of our lips aside from my heavy breathing. I feel his hand grip my hair one shade harder, and a slap swiftly follows on the matching thigh, before his hand returns back to the left and I feel the blow just above the previous. He follows this same pattern until he reaches my cheeks before stroking down both thighs and starting the process again. My whimper becomes an moan…of pain? Of pleasure? I have no idea, but I feel his grip loosen in my hair and my forehead, now slick, gently placed back down. It sinks down, my shoulder follows and my body relaxes entirely.
The silence in my mind allows me to float and my body to drown further in the residual sensations of my spanking. He strokes me better.
Placing his hands under my arms once again so that his arm presses against the tops of my breasts he lift my now depleted body and sinks me down to my knees. Still holding my hands he rests my arms on his knee and my head instinctively leans against them. Kneeling for him, I feel complete. He strokes my hair whilst I slowly reemerge out of my haze.
He uncovers my eyes an releases my wrists. I still don’t move for a moment, taking comfort in the security and safety which comes from being His.
I look up at him and he smiles before saying…”Dinner?”
So that’s what he was doing for half an hour!
