Baptism by Bondage (Part I)

[The Prologue]

     A week before meeting with my Ivory Sphinx, he gave me a homework assignment. Simply put, he tells me to, “Send me a fantasy, tell me what you’ve come to expect.” Initially, I was excited. Whenever I get a chance to use my writing as an aphrodisiac, even foreplay; I dive in head first. I write fantasies for a living, I inhabit erotic thoughts and scenes. However, sitting at my laptop, typing then backspacing, typing then backspacing…for some reason, I couldn’t write a word. I was creatively impotent. My genius was flaccid.
     I’ve come to realize that my instincts wouldn’t let me form a plot that could influence the future. A part of my creativity was deactivated in regards to this man. The one and only intention I had been to be totally submissive. Whether it lead to being a servant, slave or punching bag; I wanted to be a silent conductor of his energy.

My instincts were correct

Construction of even a single idea would be futile

What he had in store surpassed my capacity to imagine…

…by far…

     I found myself standing nude and blindfolded, with my hands on head. Pacing around me, I would gather the occasional sensation of him sniffing me, groping my muscles and twisting my nipples. Bending me backwards by pulling my hair, I found balance in my fear of him. I feared that he would find my devotion flawed, my offering blemished.

This combination of fear, forfeit and freedom

Left me transfixed

     Sliding a pair of leather mitts over my hands, he then pinned my fists behind my back. Gear was also strapped around my ankles; the leather…his touch…the chemistry made my ankles highly erogenous. Pressing my face into his chest, I couldn’t breathe. Suckling on his nipples, his bosom was all the air I needed. Sliding my face down his hairy, course torso, I was sent to my knees.

I was face to face to the jeans imprisoning my paradise

Gnawing at the denim, I wanted to free the beauty bulging within

Reduced to a helpless, whimpering puppy

I consumed all I could from his closed fly.

      Oddly, I felt a sense of gratitude as he declined me from my knees to completely prostrate.  To my delight, I was face down upon the altar of his bare feet.  Savoring the opportunity, I ran my tongue between his toes.  In that moment, I felt like Mary Magdalene anointing the feet of Jesus with oil.  Kissing and licking his feet filled me with joy.

Hog tied

Flat on my stomach

I felt truly free...

He detached me from my body

In this realm, in which he sent me

His feet wasn't soaked in my saliva

but my spirit..


(To be continued...)