I knew some of her story.
At least why she was there. Why she willingly put herself in this helpless position. The establishment catered to fantasies, to secret desires, and I was selected to make hers come true.
I really am not drawn to inflicting pain. That’s probably why what happened…happened. And why her thank you card posted on the board said simply “I can’t forget.”
I had written beneath her script, “I can’t forget either.”
I entered the room where she was tied and blindfolded, and her chest heaved with short, Adrenalin-fueled breaths. I could tell that she wanted to call out to the footsteps she heard, to form some semblance of connection with this stranger, but she did not. I resisted as well.
I had the advantage, of course. I could see her. But still I wanted her to hear me. I wanted to put her at ease. Despite the sharp edge in the air, somehow she seemed to sense my nature nonetheless. Her hips tipped upward, and I saw the opening of her inner pussy clench.
So often in control, she craved the loss of it. That’s what I understood. And that’s the sizzling energy I saw thrumming through her body.