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Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Some Wishful Thinking Part 6


The following is pure fantasy...

I was in his dining room, bound. My hands were behind me tied with rope intertwined through the rungs of the chair. I had stopped crying by now but some tears still lingered under the surface. There was a trail of blood droplets from the front door to the chair I was in, then a smeared trail lead to and fro the kitchen. He had been walking back and forth, gathering what he needed from the kitchen. A stack of towels was on the table in front of me. A basin filled with warm water was at my feet. As he returned I averted my eyes. I couldn't bear to meet his gaze. He hadn't said a word but I knew the yelling and condemnation was coming, soon.

Instead he pulled a chair before me and grabbed a small towel from the pile, dipping it into the warm water. His touch was gentle and sure when he lifted my right foot. He wiped off the dirt, making sure no stones were caught. He did the same with the other foot, always delicate. I watched silently as he rubbed in antibiotic ointment and wrapped each foot in gauze. Our eyes met and I saw the sadness in his, if only for a brief second. He was as hard, cold steel as he cleaned his own feet. I ached seeing the tightness in his jaw, not from the pain in his feet but the pain I had caused him.

Finding my voice, "Please...let me help." His eyes shot up in disbelief. There was suspicion in them. "You can keep my hands tied. Tie to my legs to this chair. But you need my help. Your back. You won't reach it on your own. Please."

"Why should I trust you? Do I need to lock all the doors and windows first? You knew the inevitable the moment you walked into that hotel room. One way or another, you would be here. You would be mine." He gently placed his hand on my thigh, stroking my soft skin with his thumb. "All I've thought about in the last few months is having you in my home. Making it ours. A willing slave to her Master's whims and fancies. Was it all a game for you?"

"Jeff." I cleared my throat and glanced up at him. His eyebrow was raised so I started over. "Sir, it wasn't a game. It was a wish for something more. Please, I want to help. It's my fault you're hurt. At least let me make it better."

He didn't answer but moved behind the chair, untying and unwinding the rope around my hands from the chair. He sat at my feet and after dampening a cloth, he handed it over. I cleaned his back with care. I pulled out a handful of gravel. I watched when his back would tense from the pain. I barely stopped my tears. Once he was clean, I rubbed antibiotic cream across his back and wiped my hands clean with the damp cloth.

Above just a whisper, "I'm done Sir." He turned around and again sat in the chair opposite of me. He stared at me while I tried my best to avoid his gaze. I looked out the windows on my left. The backyard was in view. The luscious green grass was neatly manicured. I could see a few fruit trees just beginning to bloom.

"Look at me," he said in a dangerously low and calm voice. I couldn't help but obey. "Tell me what you want." It felt like all the air was pulled out of my lungs when he uttered those words. I had seen them typed a hundred times before, but to hear them was unbearable. I also knew I had to answer, to say out loud the words I had typed and thought a thousand times over.

"I want a dominant man. One who will protect and cherish me. I want discipline, to be controlled. I want love and friendship. I want to suffer at the hands of a cruel and sadistic man, knowing it gives him great pleasure. I want more than sex. I want to build a home with him. I want to be opened and exposed so he will know all of me..." I couldn't finish the rest. The last part which was added after we began talking. I glanced up at him, a face as cold and set as stone. I whispered, nearly choking on the words, "I want you."

"Good girl," he paused, letting those words sink into me. "So why are you fighting what you want? I understand you love your work and I would never completely take you away from it. But why go in search of a Dom, why seek me out if your wants weren't just as important? You've never admitted it, but this is a need. Much more than a want, you need a Dom. You need me, just as I need you. Will you admit that's true now?"

I closed my eyes as a tear slid down my cheek. I couldn't, not to him or even to myself. I softly shook my head. I heard him sigh in frustration. He held my face in both hands forcing me to look at him. The lust and desire were back in his eyes. I heard myself panting and could feel my pussy begin to drip. He smirked knowing the reaction a look had on my body.


to be continued...

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