Laying face-up on the bondage table, thick leather cuffs at the wrists and ankles, taut chains linking the cuffs to bolts underneath the table's upholstered top, held in place as the hydraulics slowly position the table to about a sixty-degree angle...
This is what i have longed for all day, ever since the bus collided with a semi on the way to work at 7AM, making me over three hours late since i - along with the thirty other passengers - had to stay behind and be interviewed by the police... and I was the last to be interviewed. Everyone on the bus was alright, but it was not a good way to start the day, and it left me in a somewhat-foul mood all day long.
i knew that this is exactly what i needed to help to improve my spirits. He knew as well. When i returned home from work - three hours late to make up for the lost time in the morning - the red whip was waiting on the small table in the entryway of our small home. i knew what i was to do, and hurried to our windowless, soundproofed Dungeon in the basement.
i rang the "doorbell" outside the Dungeon - with the door open once, i had rung it so that i would know its sound (as different from the home's main doorbell), and was quite surprised that the "doorbell" sound was actually a short sound clip of several women in simultaneous orgasm. Not being able to hear the "doorbell" with the door shut, i simply stood and waited, my arms crossed under my breasts and still fully dressed to purposely anger Him.
i must have waited at least ten minutes before He descended the stairs behind me, surprising me; i had anticipated that He would be waiting for me in the Dungeon itself. He looked quite appealing, wearing leather thin-cut briefs with large D-rings over the hips, to which He had attached a long medium-thickness chain which snaked around His torso and behind His neck. However, upon seeing me standing at the Dungeon door still wearing my work clothes, He stopped momentarily on the staircase, a slight frown upon His lips. my eyes fell to the floor in shame, my head trying to follow suit. i could feel the thick blush of embarrassment washing over me, and was certain that He could see it as well. He finished descending the staircase, walked across the storage/laundry area, and stood before me.
i suddenly wanted nothing but a long, bone-crushing hug, and, knowing it would not be coming, began to cry. Our first rule was that neither of us would ever enter or even approach the Dungeon in our mundane clothing, so as not to potentially profane the special bond we both held for the area of pain and pleasure. Yet here i was, openly breaking our first rule like a child who is told to not do something yet does it nonetheless.
Only when i could cry no more and was in the process of wiping the remaining tears from my face did He suddenly grab my shoulders and ram me back into the door to the Dungeon. The violence of the act was so unexpected that I screamed even before the headache of the contact filled my entire skull. Without a word, He opened the door to the Dungeon, then shoved me inside so hard that i fell backward to the floor, barely able to brace my fall before my head would have impacted the floor.
Then He slammed the door shut, leaving me completely alone.
