I can't help the moan that escapes my mouth at the taste of her tongue against mine, and my hips pulse reflexively up to meet hers. But before I can reach the heat emanating from her core, she grasps my neck in her hand and pushes me away, pressing...
I have an incredibly important statement at the end that you can't miss, so keep your pretty little eyes open for it!
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I was back in that place. The cold seeps through my skin, rendering me into a state of relentless shivers. I'm sitting naked on the cold ground, my legs drawn up against my chest , my head resting against my knees, my arms drawn across my thighs and calves, hugging my body close to create some semblance of warmth.
I haven't eaten for the 24 hours I've been in solitary confinement. I can hear Beth screaming in the room across from me. As much as I want to cover my ears from the ear-shattering invasion of sound, I can't help but find comfort in the fact that I'm not the only one suffering in this piece of shit hellhole.
I rock myself back and forth against the harsh concrete, ignoring the way it grates against my skin, ignoring the cold that my body seems to absorb relentlessly.
Back and forth, back and forth, back and –
My head snaps up at the sound of a lock turning and it sounds like a bullet releasing into the dark. I hold my breath as the door inches open...
I wake with a start, gasping for breath, clutching my hand to my chest. I'm hovering to the left, over that one space that's meant to hold my heart. I dig my fingers into it, wishing in that moment, that I could just tear out the worthless appendage that keeps my pulse racing.
Fuck I'm tired of this shit.
I quickly pull my hand away from my chest.
"Darius!" I scream out, running my fingers through my unruly hair.
I hear hard footsteps running toward my room, and then a hesitant knock against the door.
"You may enter."
The door opens a crack, then opens all the way. I'm met with Darius in his full service gimp costume.
Darius was a client that had to work very hard to gain my trust. I understood his submissive tendencies and his desires to serve me as his dominatrix in ways that went beyond the duties of what the public would consider when they think 'submissive'.
No, Darius had a very particular kink that brought him pleasure.
While he loved pain, he loved servicing his domme even more. And so this sweet middle aged man would pay me generously to enter my house in the early morning. He would prepare my breakfast, he would prepare my tea latté to perfection. When I was off to service my clients, he would clean every surface of my penthouse.
Like any true dominatrix, I would praise him when he did well, and punish him if he did a bad job.
Darius pushes the door open all the way, and I trail my eyes over his attire. He's wearing a leather mask that covers half of his face, leaving only his eyes revealed. The rest of his attire consists of only a pair of tight leather shorts that cling to his body, highlighting the rather impressive package he's carrying.
