She's had me bound before, so I had a slight idea of what she had in mind. What I wish I had was a better understanding of what she was up to. When she showed me her collection, I thought I was in my own personal 50 Shades of Gray.
From riding crops to suspension hangers, and whips to clips, there was nothing she didn't own one or more of. It was clear that she was capable of a great many things. The sight of some of them sent my mind reeling, to be sure.
One particular item that caught my eye was some of her restraints. I walked over and checked out her chains and such dangling precariously from the wall. Cold, unfeeling stainless chains, met with black leather cuffs. Six cuffs to be exact. Two for the ankles, two for the wrists, and what she explained to me were a neck collar and a collar that attached between a man's legs. I was running my finger along one of the wrist cuffs, when she chuckled.
"Good memories, hun? We can always revisit those, if you like!"
The combination of this comment and the sight of her restraints, both gave me goosebumps and made my trousers tighten a bit. Though was I ready to climb into that position again, just yet? I decided I wanted to learn more about her collections and her intentions, before I was willing to find myself in those again.
I knew what the whips were capable of, and wasn't quite in the mood for that yet. I moved past them and flipped through a couple pairs of petite clips. A collection of small alligator clips. Ranging from flat-lipped pieces with feathers, to sharp-toothed accessories with decorative chains hanging from them.
"Mmm, I always knew you liked a little pain with your pleasure, babe. I will remember that for later," The words wafted from behind, but it sounded as if it came from all around.
My guide set the clips back down where I found them, and we continued this little tour into the life and times of fetishes. She worked my every nerve, getting me excited and frightened at the possibilities of what she had in store. There were harnesses with dildos the size of your forearm, anal plugs with animal tails extending from them, and even a collection of lubes to go with them.
At the end of the room, there was a closet that, just like the displays in the room, were dedicated to one purpose. Inside the collection continued. There were gimp suits, corsets, and even skimpy little fishnet items. Something for every occasion.
"Oh, I don't think we'll have any need for any of those just yet," She muttered, "well, maybe a corset will be fun..."
I hadn't noticed until now, but I saw her making gestures at some of the items, and I knew from previous experience what she was up to. She was making a mental list of what to grab, once she had me where she wanted me.
We walked into the next room, and found ourselves in a deep burgundy room, with almost no furnishings aside from one particular piece that I had yet to familiarize myself with.
"What in the world is that? I thought I knew most of the things available..." I was having difficulty wrapping my mind around its full use.
"Oh, this is my favorite, though sadly I don't get to use it as often as I like. A lot of my friends are intimated by it." There was a hint in her voice, that this was trouble indeed.
I couldn't resist. "I admit I am nervous, but I am curious about it. Would you be willing to show me?"
No sooner did I finish my question, she repositioned like she was expecting it.
Standing in front of the door with her hands on her hips, she stated authoritatively, "Oh I could, but that will take some preparation on both our parts, little man. Do you think you are up for that?"
I felt my heart in my throat, and thought my throbbing rod was going to burst through my jeans. I got the impression that mercy was not her strong suit. If I agreed to this, my entire world would be shattered and rewritten.
"I.. er.. um.. Yes. I think I am up for that." I fumbled my words, half disbelieving the words as they escaped me.
"You know the rules, my pet." She strutted closer so she could whisper in my ear. With a full voice she tantalized me, "If you want this, you have to beg properly for it."
My knees instantly felt like gelatin. I was sinking to my knees faster than I could acknowledge it. I got on my knees before her, hands folded in front of me, and begged to be broken.
"Please take me and use me. I want to be your plaything in your favorite playroom." A single tear escaped my eye and my voice cracked, in anticipation of what was to come. "Will I make an acceptable toy for you?"
She clapped her hands in excitement. I rarely see her as excited. It was slightly unnerving.
"You just might, my dear." She slowly walked a circle around me, sizing me up. "However, these things take time. Preparations need to be made. I will be in touch soon, and once I do, remember: you asked for this, and as such, you will not be able to back out of this arrangement. Once last time, are you sure this is what you want? You have seen my collection of toys. I may even go shopping before our little playdate."
I simply nodded, stuttering, "I want nothing more than to enter your world, and for you to use me. I will look forward to your call."
The days went by, and I could think of little else than that burgundy room and what unimaginable things would soon take place there. Exhilaration and hesitation both flood my head at a single consideration of it. But at this point, the deal has been made. I may be roasted on a spit for all I know.
After a few days went by, life had crept back in and the obsession of that room had began to fade. I had not seen or heard from her, and was beginning to think it was all a dream.
After about a week had passed I noticed a missed call on my cellphone, with a voicemail to match.
"OK lover. You said you wanted in to my little world, well now's your chance," she stated with authority. "Since you did not pick up the phone, here is what you need to know. One, be at my place promptly at 7pm. Two, Be showered and dress nice, I don't want a slob showing up at my door. Oh, and three, you better not masturbate between now and then. I want you good and ready for me. Understand?"
That voicemail came in on Wednesday evening. I had almost two days to fester over what was going to happen. What preparations did she have to make before we could get started? For the next two days, I found my thoughts searching every possibility, looking at every man and woman that walked down the street. Were they somehow involved?
Friday finally came, and my heart was racing the entire day. 7pm could not come soon enough.
I rushed home from work as quick as I could. Laid out a nice button down shirt and slacks, along the lines of something I might wear on a first date. It was nothing too wild, but certainly better than what I would typically wear on a Friday night.
I washed up, dreaming of her and what she would be up to tonight. I meticulously scrubbed everything I could reach, wanting to be as pristine as possible. I admit, the thought of stroking myself off before going over to her house was overwhelming. However, I denied myself such a release. I wanted every single nerve to be at their full potential for what was about to come.
I combed my hair, brushed my teeth, and got dressed. Like any good date, I arrived about five minutes beforehand. Checking myself in the car mirror one last time before walking up to her door.
