"I made you something." Benny says. Not bought, made. "I went to Home Depot." Oh shit. It's a quiveringly curious, only play-terrified oh shit. Play-terror won't make me run, but it does feel quite genuinely nervous.
"What is it?" I ask.
"You'll see." He thinks for a second, that lovely exaggerated hmm-what-will-I-do-with-this-one Dom chinscratch. "Actually, you won't see. Let's go upstairs."
Upstairs is the bed. It's got thick metal bars at the head and foot. Just decorative ones, it's not blatant bondage furniture, but it works well enough that way. "Lie down on your back," he says. I love the tone of his voice, like a doctor telling you to take a deep breath, cold and utterly assured. If I'd said it it would've been "Now you can, um, lie down, on your back I guess, I mean if you want to, okay?" But he knows exactly what he wants to do with me.
I lie down, and he blindfolds me. A blindfold looks so small and simple from the outside, but from the inside it blocks the whole world. I have nothing but sound and touch to guide me. The first touch I feel is him bringing my hands up over my head, between the bars of the headboard, and cold metal clicking over my wrists. It's slightly uncomfortable to have my arms at 180 degrees above my body; I feel stretched-out no matter how I scoot the rest of my body around. "Scoot" is never an erotic word.
I don't get to do a lot of scooting anyway, because the next touch I feel is rope on my ankle. Not just rope though, he's tying it to something hard. And the other ankle, and now I know what the new toy is.
It's a spreader bar. I'm wide open and can't close my legs. Can't bring my hands down to protect myself. I'm rapeable.
The next touch I feel is Benny between my legs, suddenly undressed. Slowly, taking his sweet time and speaking to me very little, he fucks me.
I don't know if good submissives are supposed to smile and giggle the entire time. It probably kills the mood horribly. I can't help it.
Monday, 27 August 2007
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