First Time
I was quiet. No, that's the wrong word: if a body can be mesmerized, mine was. My arms crossed across my back and I heard the click of the key, binding my wrists with the new leather handcuffs. He lowered me to my knees, my face turned to the wall. He placed each cuff around each ankle.
Click. The key turned in the lock.
I slowly closed my eyes and felt my mind draw deep inside. I took in each touch, each new sensation ... and somewhere behind the pain and unexpected pleasure, another part of my mind was watching. Noting my body's responses with almost scientific interest. "That hurt. I'm wet. What else don't you know about you?"
Almost like he was running a lab, and finally had the subject of the experiment right where he wanted her, he proceeded with his experiment ... but I knew it was affecting him in a most unscientific manner. I could hear it the comments he made under his breath. "There, that one." His voice was huskier than usual. He began to apply different stimuli ... partly so he could show me what he instinctively knew I didn't know about who I am - and partly to reassure himself that he had been right all along. He increased the pressure on a nipple clamp, ran his palm across my shoulder, lightly flogged my ass and let the leather strands snap across my pussy. It was almost nothing, but still I whimpered. He plunged a finger into me and I literally dripped down to his wrist. I heard his throaty observation, "Good." He stuck his finger in my mouth. His voice whispered right beside my ear, "See how good you taste?"
I sucked obediently and moaned, just a little. I heard him breathe in sharply.
And that got to me more than anything. I could hear the "want" in that intake of breath. I wondered if it was a surprise to him that he wanted me, if I'd be able to see it in his eyes if I could see his face. But I did not have permission to move, so I remained still. Already, it did not even occur to me to turn my head without his permission.
I was totally present in that room and totally gone at the same time. There was nothing to say. No noise I could make. No way to move in that erotic stillness. My body was his. My mind was his. I trusted him.
And, there it was - that absolution. If he makes me enjoy it, it isn't my fault. If I tremble because it feels so fucking good, it's fine because it's beyond my control. If I struggle and beg, he drove me there. I was released from the responsibility I held myself to. This is new information. There was no guilt - my body had taken control away from my mind.
I had permission.
Self-will gave way like a dam breaking, and I turned the power over. Not just from me to him, but from the background noise of "good girls don't" to the heat of "this is all that matters."
Constraints vanished. I recognized the burning want I'd been able to feel years ago - before the wrecking ball hit my life, shattering my ability to feel. But that desire was nothing like this. The naked truth became clear: if my body likes it, my mind will justify it all. I had other lovers take me to that place of acceptance, but so long ago and none like him. Never like this. In that moment my universe shifted. Clarity and color exploded into my previously blurry sexual existence.
I hadn't understood myself, so how could anyone else possibly have understood me?
The last of my inhibitions left the building, and I no longer even remembered their existence. I felt warmth and thickening inside, tongues of fire flickering from my hips up to the bottom of my ribs.
