I’d been pestering her for what felt like an eternity. We’ve always enjoyed the kinkier side of things and there’s not much left for us to try, which made this all the more alluring, more enticing, exciting… enthralling. But there’s a lesson to be learned in earnest here – be careful what you wish for.
Truthfully things had dragged on for so long that it seemed little more than an elusive fantasy, never quite materialising into tantalising tangibility. That’s why when she told me to prepare myself for a night like no other, I foolishly dismissed her warning as hyperbolic. But boy was I wrong.
She’d given me her forewarning of a night beyond the ordinary earlier in the day and – after a frantic Friday finalising some projects at work – I’d largely forgotten about it. And then the first message came:
“For the remainder of the weekend, you belong to me. You’re nothing more than my personal fuck-toy, to be used abused for my amusement. When you get home, venture upstairs to the bedroom. You’ll find further instructions waiting.”