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I saw the scene clearly…a female’s initiation into a male dominated world, where taken into a shadowy domain of lust, her naked body is at the mercy of a master’s whim. She’s forced to serve on hands and knees with mouth and lips, her sexual body violated three, four, five times in a night until she’s entirely spent. On the last night of her initiation she wears a collar and cuffs and a suit of chains, and is bound to the rafters where she struggles uselessly. Her freedom comes with a price. She’ll be thoroughly whipped, her body red with welts before there will be any mercy at all. Her pain is fierce, but the pleasure just as potent. Losing control and all conscious thought, she swims in the master’s fire, consumed in sexual ecstasy.
When I woke from my wild musings, my real body was quivering with completion that surpassed anything I’d yet experienced – except with Will, of course. I was sticky with perspiration and sex, and the smell of my cunt still lingered on my hands when I woke in the morning. I found each night of depravity made the day more difficult to bear, more difficult to create the tender sensuous lovemaking I enjoyed so much with Will. Even our most torrid moments paled in comparison to sex with these kinky masters. The agitation between fantasy and reality reared its ugly head once more.
My restlessness became difficult to hide, but Will didn’t prod me, respecting my earlier request not to ask about my fantasies. That was until the night I abruptly bolted from bed after sex. That night, my darker fantasies encroached on my real time world, rudely violating our lovemaking. I couldn’t stand it anymore.
“You’re going to tell me what’s wrong.” Will bolted from bed right after me and whirled me back to face him.
“I can’t,” I pleaded.
“Yes you can! And you’d better start talking.” He pushed me down on the bed.
We stared at each other for some time until I got the feeling that we would stay this way all night if I didn’t say something. He had no intention of budging until I made my confession. I started and stopped a couple times then finally managed to blurt out.
“It’s my sexual fantasies.”
He waited for more.
“I can’t make them stop.”
His eyes seemed to soften as I spoke.
“When I’m with you everything is so perfect, it feels so right and it’s everything I need. But when we’re not together, I get so horny thinking about you, I start to masturbate, and…” I stopped unable to finish.
“And what?”
“My mind veers off to all these strange places.”
“Like what?”
“It’s really rough…”
“Keep going.”
“I think about being…well…” I couldn’t imagine saying it aloud.
“What Alex? What do you think about?”
“I can’t!” I was practically in tears, and covered my face in my hands.
“Oh, but you can,” he assured me, as he pried my hands away. “Look at me.”
I did. Nope. It didn’t make it any easier. “I’d rather look away.”
I felt his exasperation. “Nothing could be as bad as what you’re putting yourself through. I’m sure I can handle whatever it is.”
I was fairly sure of that, too. It was just spitting out the words.
I gulped my emotion and took a deep breath. “I dream about being dominated, sexually dominated,” I finally spit out the truth.
The announcement hardly ruffled a feather in his cool reserve, and as if it was no big deal, he quickly went on, “So what else? Tell me everything.”
“Everything?” I winced.
“Everything.” I had a feeling we would stay right where we were until he was satisfied. Well, I didn’t tell him everything, but I did tell him about being given away to several men, about the chains, the bondage, the spanking, and how the fantasies had taken over my thoughts and now suddenly appeared even when we were in bed together. I was sure to emphasize how miserable this was making me – as if he hadn’t already seen that.
“So that’s it?” he asked when I finished my terrible litany.
“Yeah, isn’t it enough?” I sighed. “What do you think?”
