I think it's nearly dawn. I can detect light in the room, but my eyelids aren't really open. My breathing is normal and not too deep, although my heart rate has gone up a little, but that's just excitement, I think.
Beside me, Mark stirs briefly, and I feel a surge of excitement rush through me. Maybe this is it. Maybe he'll awaken and we can try out our plan. I can feel the moisture begin to seep out of me. He has to notice my scent of arousal; I can smell myself, why can't he smell my musk? I concentrate my entire focus on attempting to make a sound as I exhale, and thrill to the little growl-like sound I finally produce. It seems loud to me, but I don't think he heard it. Please wake up, Mark! It's time!
It's been almost a year since I started to experience minor episodes of sleep paralysis, and about a month since they became more pronounced and began to last for longer periods of time. It's hard to measure time when you are in a state of total waking paralysis. Monkey mind takes over and it's difficult to concentrate. The first few times were a little scary, but after that, it became kind of like forced meditation, and I began to look forward to it.
I have to admit that I've had a thing about amputees and paraplegics all of my adult life. I would classify myself as a devotee, for sure, but I'd never go to the point of injuring myself to become the object of my desire; I have tied up the odd leg or arm for a while, and Mark has indulged me. He actually has begun to look forward to my flights of fancy, partly to make me happy, but also because I get so incredibly randy that I fuck him senseless afterward. I approached Mark with the subject of my SP carefully, and my instincts were right. At first, he thought the whole thing was kind of creepy (actually, I think the term 'Necrophilia' was mentioned at least once), but after my carefully crafted plea, he agreed to try it.
"Imagine," I explained, "awakening to the fact that your senses are acutely active; you can feel smell and hear everything around you in exquisite detail. You can feel the sheets upon your skin, smell the shampoo on the hair of the person next to you. You hear their breathing and feel your heart beating in your chest, but you cannot move a muscle anywhere. If your eyes are partially open, you can see what they are pointed at, but you can't move them. If they are closed, you are blind. Your chest rises and falls in a peaceful rhythm; a rhythm you cannot interrupt or hasten in order to speak. Type "A" personality be damned, you are absolutely helpless in the truest form of the word. Now imagine the person next to you awakening with the knowledge that you are totally in their care. They can do anything in the world their hearts desire to you and with you, and you have neither the power to complain nor compliment, acquiesce nor assist. It is absolutely the ultimate in submission; bondage with no strings attached, literally."
"And you have no problem with that, is that what I hear you saying, Kate?" he asked.
"I trust you with my life and my heart, Mark. As long as it is done in love and pleasure for you, I will place absolutely no boundaries upon this experience. None. And there will be no guilt or recrimination later, OK?" I made eye contact with him as I said the last word, and then I took his hands and kissed them. "I absolutely can't wait for this. I just don't have any idea when it will happen, or how I'll let you know."
