Games of Passion

Everything is black

His vision obstructed behind the blindfold

Bound tightly over his head muffling the security of sight

Standing naked on the cold concrete floor

His arms stretched upwards

Shackled by chain and locked in place

The room is damp and musty

It’s cool but warmed by heated flesh

Flesh flush with nervous anticipation

Reaching for threads of indication of what is to come

A sound, a scent, a touch or worse

His senses now heightened to the brink of anxiety

Waiting to hear a pin drop

Trying to ignore the rhythmic motion of his heavy breath

Or the pounding of drum pulsing within his chest

A creak of the heavy wooden door marking the entrance

Sends shivers down his back

His ears perk acutely calculating what may come next

The clicking of heels demurely entering the room

Pacing around his vulnerable body

Her stilettos tapping on the cold hard floor play music to his ears

With perfectly manicured fingers she teasingly strokes his chest

Her other hand casually brushing past his exposed manhood

He dare not speak a word and break this powerful silence

He tenses his body knowing what comes next

With a grip on his testicles she asserts with authority

Are you ready for this bitch?

The silence is broken

And with automated response

He robotically answers, yes my Goddess

Stepping away she brushes his flesh once more

This time the smell of leather is in the air

It arouses the lust in his soul as he waits for what is in store

Her heels wander off in the distance

Returning to rest behind his bound form

Anxiety now swaying from fear – he swells with arousal

In a moment lasting for eternity he relaxes with gratitude

And with a swish of air she swings her arm up high

Before bringing it down full force to bear

Then the crack of her whip slashes down with a hiss

It elicits fear and misunderstanding amongst the masses

But for him it is simply the gateway to erotic bliss

Free In Thought, 2016

Photo Credits:

Image 1 and 4 (giphy.com), Images 2,3,5 (pixabay.com)