BDSM
29 Dec 2017


A wooden chair on a wooden floor in the centre of a dark room was where she found herself.

The light directly above her was the only source within this loft apartment and there was no shadow beneath her.

Her eyes wide, staring downwards.

Obedience given by way of trust and need.

Her body, naked, shivered but not from the cold but her primal sense of anticipation.

As flocks of geese instinctively move inland hours before a storm, her subconscious was preparing herself for what might come.

The light above her flickered ? perhaps, she had been sitting resting her chest and arms over the back of this beaten wooden dining chair for some time in silence and couldn’t be certain. Her fingertips and nails periodically feeling their way up and down out of nervousness, her mind had drifted, wondering silently what tales this chair could tell ? the happy times for birthdays and candles being blown out ? the darker times ? fights, stinging words and bruising threats and ultimatums ?

And then it came.

Slowly from the edges of the room, from the darkness outside the circle she existed within that sound of her Mistress.

Her heels making slow steady progress punctuated by never ending pauses and the sound of … difficult to determine .. dragging ? as one heel casually draws a line in the hardwood floor to meet the other ?

Her Mistress was hunting. In the shadows. On the periphery.

She had once described this place over a coffee. Without the darkness there can be no light but it was from the darkness that comes that raw and unadulterated need to feed. Her nature screamed for it and without letting it breath, exist and feed in the light there would be no sleep, no peace and no calm.

With easy breaths, she hunted now along the shadows.

Her attire empowered her. Details count in every sense and nothing was overlooked when hunting and feeding.

Her black patent boots were comfortable and empowering.

Her corset black and leather had taken time to acquire since both it and her theatre mask had come from a Venetian theatre group that had closed.

Behind her mask, within the shadows of this room, she paused and savoured the sight of what was to be hers.

She crouched, her hand touching the wooden floor where light met the shadow. Earthed in many ways as her other hand gently stroked the black and red feathers that adorned the top of her mask above.

She could hear her Mistress close now. Breathing and she felt her own heart beat faster within her chest now. She felt her own head lift minutely presenting herself for her Mistress.

“Hands” a voice commanded from the dark and she immediately pulled both hands from their resting place on the chair to behind her back obediently.

More footsteps, quicker than before. The feel of a leather strap around her wrists, binding them tightly, her arms pulled back now and then the feel of the sole of a shoe and a heel into her back and the searing pain in her chest and hands as the strap was tightened.

The smell of her Mistress, her leather corset and undertones of that scent she so craved. Nothing artificial or man made, that primal scent each human carries with them that they are themselves unaware of but the scents that often bind lovers together craving each other. She also sensed her own control fleeing from her body, cut off now as much as the blood was from her hands.

Her blinking, rapid now, as her mind desperately clung to the room and her own senses caught nothing but the floor below. She felt, at a guess, a silk scarf across her eyes eclipsing everything before it was bound behind her head.

“Mine” the same voice stated from behind an ear as she felt her head violently pulled backwards and up. The scent … closer, intoxicating, her breathing faster again and her mouth now open. Her mouth and tongue craving tastes. She was lifted by the arms and held before being place bent across the seat of the chair.

Blood rushing to her head joining the addictive spiralling thoughts racing within along with surges of adrenalin throughout her body. Her breasts beneath on the wooden chair pushed hard downwards. That feel of the sole of a shoe … and heel on the skin of her back.

Beneath her foot, she stared. The white skin succulent and contrasting in every way to the black leather of her boots. She drank this in allowing all of her senses to taste her prey. The sound of her breath, struggling below her foot with pressure, the vision of her black hair tied back against her athletic back, the lines of sinew, muscle and flesh of her arms and hands above her hips and derriere. The muscles and shapes so succulent and the smell of her scent mixed with the smell of leather now within this tiny circle of light intoxicated her now and she could feel that welcome surge of adrenalin course through her body. To taste ? to feed ? more ?

She felt a hand on her bum and then a surge of power as what felt like an entire hand enter her sex from behind.

She gasped at the shock and then immediately groaned in the pleasure of being touched, taken of pleasing her Mistress. She had been aching all week having being told to abstain for this moment, this experience and as always the benefits of not touching, not playing triggered her body to convulse on these fingers that vigorously stroked and took her entire body and mind away from the pain of her position and bound hands to another place only feeling the ecstasy that those fingers were delivering. Over and over, relentless it came, her body drowning in this wave of satisfaction. Her Mistress. Those fingers. And then they were gone.

She looked down at her fingers. They were covered in the juices of her prey and she wanted more. Her body wet now and flowing in the kill but she wanted more. Her instincts wanted to take more, elongating this experience and nourishing the dark shadows within her. Behind her mask she smiled as she put her fingers into her mouth and tasted. Sweet warm, her eyes closed, head raised towards the light as she sucked and tried to record this feeling, the hormones racing through her and that dizzy feeling that always came at such magnificent moments.

Focusing now, she reached back and pounded the black leather paddle across her prey with a fluid movement.

The pause was incredible - dripping heavy in the air across the room along with the sound the paddle had made. It was punctuated by a scream from from below and a distinctive buck of the body she was feeding on.

Then nothing.

The searing pain that followed the exquisite treat of being taken and hearing her Mistress taste her above was excruciating. It rippled through her entire body along with a heat she’d longed for. Her mind closed off entirely now, she felt herself fall as if within a well. The light above smaller and smaller within her mind, her control and her body no longer hers. As the second and third strikes hit she had moved above it. The conscious connection we as humans have with the physical, that bond was being stretched, pulled and had snapped now.

She heard a low groan from the voice in the darkness above, reconnecting her mind and body with the present moment and felt a gentle hand and lips and tongue kissing her.

She acknowledged once again the pain coursing through her but the focus was now on lips and tongue and warm kisses and fingers reentering her, stroking her entire being from within. Still blindfolded she imagined what her body looked like from above.

Glistening, glowing, warm, owned.

The glow and the feeling of finally sating the physical needs coursed through her body and she allowed her own fingers to enter herself. She’d abstained and now could finally release all of herself having taken her prey and all of her felt safer and settled now that her dark shadow could eat. Lowering herself behind she kneeled and began, fingers and tongue. Her eyes shining with pride having made her mark, kissed, sucked and devoured all of what was given with trust.

Within that room, within that circle of light and in those moments, so fleeting, that rage between darkness and light within was calmed, soothed and enjoyed. Nature dictates for all of us that storms come and go within as we move, interact and feed on one another. Lasting peace ? As she untied the blindfold, unbound her arms and gently helped her sit and steady herself … she wondered silently behind her mask.


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