Disclaimer: This post mentions topics involving consensual sexual violence. Not suitable for individuals under eighteen years of age. Reader discretion is advised.
Before anyone worries about me breaking into an Etta James classic, fear not. I won’t. Tempting though it might be, it wouldn’t be good for anyone.
Owing to the coronavirus pandemic, it’s been a long time since I’ve written one of these. It’s not that we hung up our boots so to say, it’s just that when you’re both stuck at home all day and every day, the mood hasn’t really been there.
But last night, finally, finally it was.
I felt my anxiety sneak in a few times. Each time it did, I tried to will it under wraps. I was anxious, I get anxious before a BDSM scene, and so with that in mind, I also knew to try and better manage it.
At 6:30PM, I made myself stop and write in my journal. I had to be honest about my thoughts and feelings, about my reservations and hopes for the evening. I took a deep breath and meditated for a couple of minutes, pulling myself into awareness of myself: Exactly how am I feeling?
I cooked up a curry for the both of us, adding my own twists and turns to a once Gousto recipe. I added sultanas to a recipe that didn’t even call for sultana, just because . No real reason at all, I just felt like it needed that little something. Isn’t improvisation so great?
After dinner, I busied myself cleaning up again. I excused myself and returned to the lounge, and that was when his eyes were on me.
Reaching out, he grabbed my hand and pulled suddenly. I stumbled slightly, only for him to hold the dog gate for me to full through. As he kept a hold of my hand, he clicked the dog gate shut, and then closed the bedroom door.
“So, what am I going to do with you?” he muttered, gone was the playful and relaxed Matt I’d known hours before.
“You could… let me go and watch TV, seems like a good idea?” I offered, gesturing towards the door.
“I could… but where would be the fun in that?”
“Plenty if we find something funny!” I tried.
“No no… Well yes in a way, come to think. I’m going to have my fun in here, and you? Maybe not so much.”
Holy fuck, there he was again. The sadist.
I loved that side of Matt, it’s dark, it’s brooding, it’s controlling and it’s sensual. An equal mix of toughness and tenderness, pleasure and pain. He’s kind and caring, but only ever so kind and caring that he doesn’t wind up harming his play thing in any way, permanently. He plays with the mind as much as he plays with the body, he’s perfect when he gets going!
“Stay still” he commanded.
“Aight, spose I don’t have too much choice here anyway, do I?” I smirked, rotating my wrists outwards to show the binds.
And that was when the hot wax landed.
“Oh you…. you very nice person” I purred.
“Yeah, yes I am” he whispered, right before scraping away the solidified wax with a steel claw.
“Argh! You fuckin cu-“
“Watch your words!” he warned, placing a palm against my inner thigh. I gasped slightly, he was on the ball tonight.
“And besides, keep the torture between you and me. No need for the neighbours to know you’re my little plaything this evening. Now, let’s mix things up a bit…”
Mix things… who was this man?! What happened to my oh-so-friendly lockdown buddy?!
I felt the bulb of the riding crop trail along my skin and I smiled,
“Your timing is impeccable” I whispered, just as Danny Elfman’s Did That Hurt? Chimed out from the bedroom speaker. We’d stolen a handful of tracks from the Fifty Shades merchanise and then, you know, amped it up quite a bit.
“Almost as if I knew it was coming” he replied.
“You spoil me…”
I groaned and sighed.
We spent the evening reliving many of our old loves and discovering new ones in the process. The binds we agreed would become more of our sexual repertoire and I enjoyed breast flogging far more than I cared to admit. I’d always shied away from the idea of any kind of breast torture and yet now? I think I finally get it.