You're lying in bed, feeling sore, tried and content. The session was very harsh. He was so demanding, so sadistic. How did he know it was time to push your limits, when you did not even know yourself? But you did. That part of you that hides your truth from your conscience mind, the part that sometimes scares you more than he can, the part he knows so well, ACHED for this.
He brought you to the brink of orgasm time after time, and then ordered you not to cum. One of his favorite games, yes, but he was cruel this time, and very turned on by your suffering, feeding off it, savoring it in a way that almost scared you. Seeing that..... something ....almost feral in his eyes, feeling that passion in him, that fire that you lit, gave you such satisfaction and pride. Emotionally, sexually, you suffered much worse than any beating could cause you when he did not allow you to orgasm. It was exactly what you needed, the forced proof of your self denial and devotion to him, but why did he just leave you alone after? To cry, deep, body quaking sobs and the comfort of his warm arms denied to you in such a time of need? That feeling a being used, then deserted, abandoned, that was the cruelest act of all.
As you're questioning your self if this is really the man you should give so much for, he quietly enters the bedroom. The loving look in his eyes surprises you as he tells you that you have been an excellent slave tonight. He says he is very pleased with you, and has decided to reward you. He lightly ties your leather cuffs to the headboard of the giant 4-poster bed. He places wide, fleece lined, leather straps around your thighs just above your knees then ties them to the top of the headboard posts so that your knees are forced open and almost above your head. You feel unpleasantly exposed, self conscious, and vulnerable. Then you hear him whisper to himself, "so beautiful", and it ...melts you. He reaches into the night stand drawer and removes a soft black scarf, then gently ties it around your head, covering your eyes.
Then, nothing! Silence! For several minutes you wait, and begin to wonder if he is still in the room. You questioningly utter his name and get no reply. No! It's just more cruelty, more of his damned sadistic teasing! This is too much! In your blind silence, despair washes over you, and with the despair, disappointment, then, anger.