By: Spanish Rose

“You can come in”  He said, standing in the middle of his living room in his jeans and un-tucked shirt. Such a simple sentence said to the air in general, and still I feel it stab at points in my body; freezing me in place. My feet are rooted to the ground and I cannot go back or move forward.

He comes to me, crossing the area slowly and ever so steadily watching me. Still standing on the threshold I stare at him moving, like a predator caging its quarry, rolling energy and dangerous instincts; I am torn from fear and excitement.

“What am I doing?!”  I ask myself, the question reverberating in my head and, surprisingly out loud, escorted by the sound of thousands of insecurities and taboos.

From the rumble of his chest comes the answer I have feared for so long.  “You are doing what you crave, what you know you need at night to survive but deny yourself because of a precious and merciful God, which tells you that provoking your body to the images in your head is wrong, to seek the temptation that heats your blood and night and leaves you restless for the moon to watch. Tell me what you want, do you want to be tied, be taken, possessed? Fucked until your personality is done being one and just meshes with the rest of the world? I can give you that and you know it. You came of your own free volition and you can leave the same way, I will not force you to do anything you do not yearn to have. But when you step inside, when you sink your feet into my territory, you are mine. Understood?”  By the end of this he is standing so close to me, almost touching me, just a breath away.

I shake my head and wrap my fear around me as I make the move to turn, and then a jingling sound catches my attention. Shackles, hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the room, being moved by the air conditioning that just kicked in, that is all it takes. I can feel the heat spreading through me, coloring my breast and my face, I can feel my body responding and that scares me the most. His gaze burning a path through my reluctance, his words exploding inside of me and like a child balancing on the gate of change, I let go of the hand of everything I know and I step forward.

I feel his hands grasping my waist and turning me around as his lips find the moan that is hiding in my throat, like a bounded bird. Everything is rapidly spinning in circles and my tightly clasped control is slithering through my fingers like so much water. I feel him everywhere, surrounding me; I taste him on my lips, being drug and aphrodisiac, all I want is more. A blindfold is placed in front of my eyes and, sensing my reluctance, tied behind my head without any warning. Suddenly he is gone and I am left standing, breathing harshly, in the midst of darkness.

“Don’t move, don’t be afraid, just let go” as he says this I can feel my clothing being removed with such reverence that when he leans my back against his chest the adrenaline slithers away and leaves me in a state of stupor. I am being hoisted up, I recognize the noise from the chain, everything is slowly falling in place and my mind clears of all doubt.

Behind my covered eyelids I can still see the blue and yellow hues promising so much if I just let them kiss me. With his hands on my skin caressing and kneading, I feel myself floating above an abyss, about to take the plunge that looks so promising yet scary from this far away.

My heart is thumping against my chest, reverberating in my head, my shoulders, my back, my ass and thighs, which is where his hands are as well. I can feel my nipples rasping against cloth; I can taste the anticipation and a finer, sweeter silver thread of fear; all I can see is the dancing darkness behind my eyelids…. But once the touch starts to ignite and submit, thinking I still need to feel more is all I can do to stay almost still, I want to caress and be able to see the shadow that is so readily kissing and marking me, teasing and burning a path through me. I am no longer uncontrolled but slowly tilting forward as I topple down in this tsunami of sensations.

Traveling shapes are warming every inch of my being, cindering my insides and making me hungry for something that I have yet to discover the full pleasure of. Hands above my head, the graving of the hair, lack of breath, the fine line between pain and pleasure … So much… almost too much…. and the fear at the back of my throat is tantalizing the scream seeking freedom from my chest. With a moan or a quiver of my limbs I give away the growing need, seeking release for the pleasure assaulting me in waves that rock my core with it.

My body being pulled in one straight line that cuts through the middle of me, with invisible fingers tracing the path from my chin, down my neck, between my breasts, through my stomach, delving in between my legs. Like a tuned violin I am played, until my hips follow the dictated rhythm and the sound spilling from my mouth is mercilessly plucked over and over again. I beg, until the chant becomes one with the wet sound. And when it seems my body will overflow from the intensity of this need, my legs are parted and gathered and I am filled with the permission to find release. One trust, two, with a sob I cry out my pleasure like a wild animal, buckling and rattling chains; spiraling so fast and true… down, always down…. All I can see is blue and yellow hues gathering me in their arms, I am floating…

“You are staying tonight.” From the depth of my submission I know this is not a question.

“Yes, I am staying tonight.”