Fantasies

[Originally written July 1st, 2020]

So, I recently had a few rather intense-feeling fantasies cross my mind – I thought I might take the time here to go into a little more detail!


Kneeling in her basement. The cold, hard floor hurts my knees, but I barely notice. I’m blindfolded, earmuffed, handcuffed, collared, spider-gagged, Hush-plugged, cock-ring’d, and anything else you can think of. I can’t see, I can’t hear, but I can feel. Oh, can I feel. The slight air currents on my bare skin as she moves through the room. The warmth of her body as she stands over me. The soft touch of a hand against my skin makes me jerk in surprise and I can tell, without seeing, that as she plans her next sadistic move, she has the most devilish smile on her face. Is that the muffled, dull thud of a riding crop I can just faintly make out? Was that the whoosh of a strap-on being waved in my face? Only one of us knows – and she’s not telling.


Outside, this time, and no longer kneeling. It’s a bright day, the sun is shining, and I tense slightly as she places an empty glass on the serving tray chained to my collar. It’s the Femdom garden party of well, fantasy, and both Mistress and slave alike are dressed to the nines – slaves a little skimpier of course, part of our job is eye-candy after all. I squirm and blush as she tells her friends stories of all the depraved things she’s had me do for her – sparing no intimate details, naturally – but when one of them says I should fetch a fine price at the upcoming auction, and I get fixed with that look I know so well, I can’t help but start getting excited.


Inside and kneeling once more! But this place is different. It’s warm, and comfortable. Thick, plush carpet beneath my knees helps take my mind away from the ache in my arms, chained as they are to the underside of the desk. She’s just stepped away for a bit, but she won’t be long – she has work to do, after all. And here she is now – a flash of light as she repositions the chair, but down here naught is revealed but stockings. A single command – “back to work, slut” – as she slides back into place is all I get – all I need. Because I know exactly what’s expected of me, as I am returned to the humid darkness. I know I am made to be of service, as she gets on with her work. I know I need to please her, because her desires are my desires, and my pleasure is irrelevant.

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