Monday, 19 March 2012

A little bit inconvenienced

I am stretched on a four poster in a boutique hotel. Bound by wrists and ankles. He walks around leisurely tightening the leather cuffs here and there. He peruses me for a bit. Mind you, I am guessing that bit. I am blindfolded so all I am sensing is his presence, his consideration of whether the position I am in is indeed the one he wants me in. 

Then tightens the cuffs again. Adjusts me.

Step back. 

A luscious pillow is pushed under my arse to expose me even more. Like I need it.

I am already lying  there crucified,  like a fucking Jesus Christess of kinky domination.

But I am also a bit bored and impatient.

'I may fuck you now', he says in a calm measured tone.

Never underestimate my capacity for casual insolence.

'Oh, well, fuck you. You want to fuck me so you will fuck me anyway'


'Yes, really', I draw my words mockingly.


Then I hear the door open and close. He left the room. I smile to myself. 'Oh well, blah blah...'

I rest and chill in my position for a while. I had a hard day at work and this is actually quite comfortable. Like being in a Pilates class.

After some time, I start to wonder where the fuck he is. 

Then my nose stars itching. I lazily try to move my hand to relieve it but... fuck, I can't!

That's when it kicks in. 

'Don't panic' I say to myself.

Telling yourself that when trussed up like a Christmas turkey is no good, let me tell you.

I start thinking about the moment when 12 hours later the cleaner comes in and I will have to conduct the awkward conversation.

'Errr.. hi, yes, no. I mean, you wouldn't mind giving me a bit of a hand here because, ummm, err, yes, in a bit of a pickle you see...'

'What a massive cunt', I start raging internally.

Then my back starts tingling. Oh this is intolerable!

And when I am at my most vulnerable and close to tears, he comes back.

And fucks me within inch of my life. And I am gracious and grateful and generally amiable.

When he unties me, I slap him hard in the face.

'Do not ever do that again', I say.

But I don't really mean it.

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