Archive for December 12, 2012

Plotting

Assignment Essay:

Master assigned me a task recently. He said that I was to write him an essay expressing the nature of what it feels like to be owned in the everyday. He commented that he wanted it to be erotic. Formatting was impacted by the fact that this was written to be read aloud as an ‘entertainment’ piece during our recent Immersion gathering of MAsT Austin.

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He has been at it for days…maybe weeks. Must be weeks now that I think of it.

Memories surface.

Him sitting outside smoking with a far off expression. He seems to be miles away. “What are you thinking about, Sir?” I ask. With that knowing grin and lusty spark in his eye he says, “Nothing for you to know about until Friday.” I feel a shiver dart up my spine.

We are gathering our family for dinner. The kids chatter and bounce around washing hands, setting the table, arguing about who is getting a drink for who. “Almost Friday you know,” he quietly whispers as he passes me to take his seat at dinner. I blush but he is cool and collected. No one else hears or knows he is inside my soul tinkering for his amusement.

“Have I told you how much I want to consume you?” he asks softly as he takes my hand into his at the end of a long day. “Not today Sir,” I reply. “Well, I want to consume you entirely.” A raspy growl accompanies his smile now, “It is almost time you know.” I squirm in my suddenly warm seat and he chuckles.

He plots.

The plotting, he has said, is one of his favorite parts. He has been at it it seems since the day he first met me. Plotting is one of the pleasures he indulges himself in and tortures me with. The not knowing is painful. He relishes the curiosity that tweaks at my thoughts constantly.

He sprinkles our conversations with reminders that give away nothing…. yet serve to keep raw my desire to know and my fear. He flicks innocent words that light my mind as expertly as he can flick a whip to light my skin. He pinches my subconscious for his amusement.

Only a few moments now…or will it be minutes…longer? I lay panting in anticipation. Just a minute ago I was downstairs, sitting with him, watching the game.

Some timer must have gone off inside him…I silent alarm triggered. DING! He simply stood, wordless, grabbed my hair and yanked me to my feet. Stumbling behind him as he drug me up the stairs. I cried a little as some of my hair gave way to him and yanked free of my head. The sobs left my mouth and could have disappeared like the sound of a tree falling alone in the woods for all I know…he did not even glance.

My tears are just decorations on his property.

I am kneeling face against the mattress…naked? How quickly he made that happen. He pulled off my clothes with wicked efficiency. So suddenly I hardly realized what was happening until it was done, nothing but reddened cloth-burns to show he has done anything at all. Now the chill in the room feels arctic as I shutter in fear. I am panting and wet.

So quickly he has dispatched me, I am stunned and awestruck.

I am a rabbit dangling by one painful leg from the perfectly hidden snare.

I can hear him walk to the bedside. I do not turn to look. I want to look, need to look… but I know better. He was very clear after he shoved my face down into the mattress and swatted my ass until it rose to the height he deemed fit. He said only, “Do not move,” and walked away. I long to turn my head and look to see what is making that rustling sound. Why do I smell leather and alcohol? Was that a click of metal or a chink of glass?

I do not move.

My will is not my own.

My body is not my own.

I am shuttering and frozen. I listen for every hint of a sound but am only truly aware of my own breathing. Each muscle hums with fierce tension.

I am high voltage wire that he has electrified. I am his conduit, I am his.

The shock of his fingers brushing my side gently flies through me as lightening. I nearly fall from my kneel as my body leaps away from his spark but he grabs a handful of my ass and steadies his property back into the place he has plotted to have it be.

I feel leather swat against my hip. Then again. The rhythm builds and I sway slightly under it. I feel pain warming then boiling then icy. Time? Does it go by? Is it seconds or hours?

I am only now.

I hear him grunting now as he blazes his will across my flesh. The rhythm is primal, my heart beats to it, my heart bends to his rhythm. I have no idea what he might be using to inflict this on me. Is it leather? Metal? Rope? Glass? No thoughts to that anymore. No thoughts at all any more.

My mind and body are in shock and chaos. His mind and body are focused and intense. Yin and yang. Master and slave.

Suddenly He is inside me. Impaling me with his lustful appetite.

I am base instinct, life transmuting into blazing conscience.

I am undone. I weep, scream, claw at the mattress trying to escape. No chance. He pegs me to him and uses me deeply.

I feel my soul spinning out of control toward the edge of oblivion, then suddenly the snap as I hit the end of the leash, I feel him centering. I become locked in orbit around him. He spins me around him like a slingshot.

Wild chaos and madness pull me outward as his authority draws me back.

I am centrifugal energy without bounds.

I am only fire.

I am consumed by the blaze of his power.

I am nothing.

I am his gasp of ecstasy.

And this is only Tuesday.