It's been such a long time since I've written anything. No words marring the lined surface of a page; nothing to fill the stark luminescence of an empty screen whose cursor blinks mockingly.
Today, motivation to complete my work has abandoned me, leaving only daydreams in its absence. I welcome the respite and indulge myself, if only for a little while. The calls could wait...
I scan my thighs, bare but for the faint remnants of bruises dappled across my skin. The corners of my mouth pull into a slight smile as my mind wanders, eyes still dreamily fixed on those fading violet hues.
I’d begun craving those nights, lured back again by moments that each felt more like an eternity. Moments that left my breath hitched in my throat, allowing only sharp gasps to be whispered into the silence.
...Pushed firmly against a cool wall, unable but moreover unwilling, to “free” myself.
My eyes were firmly held shut, yet I could still feel his gaze searching my face, the familiar blush now burning my cheeks. My mind, usually buzzing with unwanted activity, was silent. I was in the here and now, focused solely on the heat of his body pressed against mine. I awaited his touch eagerly, silently pleading yet willing myself somehow to have patience. As if reading my thoughts, I'm awarded with a soft caress of my cheek, still flushed with heat. I melt into his hand, convinced I'd been starved for affection for the entirety of my life; I was drowning, and his touch was the air I needed so desperately.
He pulled his hand away, almost reluctantly, leaving only longing in its wake. I felt the pressure ease from my body as he turned and slipped quietly down the hallway, into the bedroom. Still leaning against the wall, I allowed my eyelids to gently drift open as distant sounds of rummaging reached my ears. I shivered slightly, more from the bittersweet misery of anticipation than the cool air lightly rushing across my skin.
Glancing down the darkened hallway, I saw him emerge, silhouetted by the soft glow of the bedroom behind. I was only just able to make out the faint outline of an item clasped in his hand, light giving over to muted darkness as he pulled the door closed. He slowly (almost painfully so) made his way back to me, chuckling at my reluctance to remove myself from the familiarity and stability of the wall pressed against my back. He reached out and pulled me toward him, his scent somehow an invigorating mix of comfort and pleasure, titillating my senses and serving only to increase my ache for him. He placed a brief kiss on my forehead before turning me around to face the wall. Having been in this situation previously, I readied myself for a guiding nudge toward said wall but it never came. I turned my head questioningly in his direction but was met instead with his hand tangled in my hair with a firm grip, considerably limiting the small movement I'd attempted and forcing me again to face the blank wall before me.
“Don’t. Move.”, he growled into my ear.
My pulse quickened, stirred by the sound. His voice, deep and husky, a stark contrast to the smooth velvet I’d become accustomed to. He brought his arms up and over my head, lightly brushing against my skin in doing so. I trembled, unable to contain even the most minimal reactions, my body betraying me. I could hide nothing, utterly ensnared in his meticulously woven web. He chuckled again, invariably aware of how incredibly intoxicating I found his touch. A song of ice and fire were we.
“No fair...”, I muttered quietly.
Quite suddenly, my vision was obscured by darkness. Any source of light was lost as he placed what seemed to be an impregnable blindfold over my eyes, fitting it snugly to my head. I stood silent for what felt like a lifetime, my other senses heightening to account for my abrupt loss of vision.
Satisfied when I was sufficiently unable to see, he traced his fingers lightly down my arms. I gasped almost inaudibly and reflexively attempted to pull myself away from the sensation. Again, I met resistance as he immobilized me with the firm grasp of his fingers intertwined in my long hair.
“I said: ‘Don’t. Move.’”, he growled again.
I could recognize the barest hint of amusement in his tone, yet the unspoken threat of “don’t cross me” lingered in the air and stopped me short; this was not the night for impish retorts.
“Yes, Sir”, I managed to mumble through lips now seemingly unsure of how to form the words.
“I don’t think I heard you correctly. Say it again.”, the words barely above a whisper in my ear.
“Yes, Sir”, I said once more, managing to wrap my tongue successfully around the words, though they were only just audible. He seemed satisfied.
“Good girl” he said, causing that all too familiar blush to return to my cheeks. I could hear the slight smile in his voice. He trailed his fingers gently down my arms again with the barest touch; my spine stiffened, determined to do as he bade me. His nearly torturous toying with my senses ceased as he reached my hand and took it in his. A hush had fallen across the house as he led me down the carpeted hallway and paused briefly before opening the bedroom door.
“You. Are. Mine.
Tonight, I will do with you as I see fit, understood?”
“Y..y..yes, Sir”, I stammered, cursing my inability to speak, the impact of his words settling in.
“Good girl”, he said once more and ushered me past the threshold to the unknown that wait beyond...
The sound of an incoming call broke through, startling me and putting an unwanted but successful end to my girlish daydreams. I'd all but forgotten I was still supposed to be working diligently rather than engaging my mind elsewhere. Mouth dry, I took a sip of water to quench a thirst which I was not altogether sure had anything to do with physical hydration. The desperate yearning to be elsewhere nigh overwhelming, and a vague smile on my face, I sighed and dutifully answered the phone.
“Thank you for calling, how may I help you today?”
