Arriving as instructed, pressing the button on the entry system hoping to gain access, listening to the ringing on the speaker, wondering if it will be you that answers.
As I wait patiently in the cold night air, the caress of the frost on the ground begins to linger around my ankles. It feels like its taking ages for someone, perhaps you, to answer. Just as I start to wonder if you are even there or if I am at the right place, the ringing ends and the door is buzzed open. No words of welcome, no understanding gained of who or what waits behind the door just an exciting opportunity for self-discovery on the horizon to be grasped with both hands.
Although my survival instincts tell me this is inherently a bad move, I am enticed by the exhilarating opportunity which lies ahead.
With a pounding heart, and palms beginning to sweat I open the door and to my relief but also horror in the same breath I am faced with another door. On a small table by the door is a hand scribed note which I can barely read. On closer inspection its words begin to make sense in my mind, “wear nothing at all except for what you find waiting for you, once you are ready you will be invited in”. Alongside the note on the table I found a deep purple satin pouch, its softness seeming at odds with the circumstances in which I find myself in.
Enclosed in the purple pouch is a blindfold. The sort that makes your world completely dark allowing no glimpses of what lies around you. As requested, with uncertainty I remove items of clothing, folding them and placing them neatly on the table. Conscious of my body, the surroundings, and the chill in the air I remove the final pieces of clothing, my underwear; I had dressed for you and the occasion expecting that they would feature in the evening. Unclipping my black satin bra, and feeling so naked in that moment. Again I wonder what on earth I am doing, but the intrigue encourages me to continue. I begin to take down my black satin matching knickers, inch by inch not knowing whether to take my time and to linger or to rush so I can find out what’s going to happen next. Finally those silky black stockings which I chose especially for you, with the lacy tops. They have been caressing my legs since I put them on this morning and now they are on the pile with the rest of my clothing. I am at last naked, and realise that what once felt like armour to me is now discarded in a pile on the table.
Taking the blindfold from its location on the table I positioned the purple satin pouch on the top of the neatly folded pile of clothing. Slowly placing the blindfold over my eyes, I pause for a moment as everything becomes dark. I take another moment to inhale a deep breath or two to relax into this unfamiliar situation and to ready my mind for the time ahead.
Just as I think I can’t take the darkness and anticipation any longer, with thoughts rushing through my mind, and a conscious awareness of my naked body becoming ever present in my mind I hear the click of the door opening.
The sound of breathing from another human being, my head is filled with images of who this person is, a person who chooses not to speak. Is it you?
A hand takes my cheek and its fingers gently stroke me, reassuringly my intuition tells me that this person means me no harm. There is too much love invested in that caress, too much time lingering over every feature and many pauses to undertake what I can only imagine is your first inspection of me.
My nipples grow hard with every touch of your finger on my skin, goose bumps spread all over my body, I love the tingling that it produces, it makes my skin so sensitive to the touch.
As we stand there in the silence which is so loud that it deafens everything around us, almost even as if time stops. My hand is held by that very same hand which caressed my face, it seems soft to their touch, and if it wasn’t for the strength in the hold I may have thought you were female.
I am led cordially through the door, unable to see what is around me I have to rely on my other senses which are rapidly going into overdrive. Beneath my feet the floor has transformed from cold stone, to a wooden floor, warm in comparison to the stone. The sensation under my feet creates all kinds of images about this place in which I am in. I listen around me for clues which can explain the experience, once again the silence becomes so deafening that I can hear my own heart beating and little else.
Hoping I will hear some kind words of welcome and encouragement, but there are none. Instead you invite me to sit down by by positioning me on a piece of furniture, velvety to the touch it kisses my bottom as I sit down.
You take one of my wrists, holding my arm out straight I feel you binding it with rope, something which makes me feel so terrified and yet so safe, you take my other wrist and prepare it with the binding.
Leading me with the rope, you position me so my bottom is facing you and I am resting over the back of what I can now tell is a chaise longue, I hear you bend down, and then I realise you are tying the rope to a leg of the chair so that I cannot escape.
I know what will be coming next, it’s what always happens, you walk away from me each footstep getting fainter. I begin to imagine all kinds of wonderful things that you may have prepared for me. I wonder whether you will return with a flogger, or a paddle, perhaps even your whip or the crop. Maybe it’s something else which I have never experienced before, or indeed are you a bare hand man. A shiver runs throughout my entire body, I can feel myself getting wetter and wetter but I cannot do anything about it because my hands are tied. Was this your intention? Is this your way of punishing me before we even begin?
After what seems like hours the footsteps are coming towards me once again, I listen so hard for clues but I am rewarded with none.
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