Page 4 of Dark Time

Her chin came up as she moved into position, and I smiled a pleased smile. Her face was blank now, ready for me to fill it with my creations. Lust, pleasure, pain would all take the place of defiance and acceptance. When I chose to give those things to her. “Stay there.”

I walked out and went into the kitchen. I’d stopped cooking for her when the news came on the small television in the kitchen. I’d turned everything off, so now I’d finish it up. We’d have dinner, and we’d finish this night off. My hands shook again, a slight tremor, as I picked up the knife to move vegetables into the now heated pan.

That stupid illness again! I’d have to talk to my doctor, have him flown out here or something. This couldn’t carry on.

I let my worries go and focused on cooking. Playtime had already begun, but I wanted to feed her before I really got the show on the road. She’d need her strength.

Emily

An hour later and I was on my knees again. I’d been fed a very lovely dinner, and Dylan had even brought out a nice bottle of red wine to go with it. We’d had a quiet and uneventful dinner. The quiet from his side of the table almost drove me mad, but I knew I had to be patient.

I’d seen Dylan in odd moods before. He’d usually take me to his private little room and find rather creative ways to make me scream his name. I knew that was where we were headed tonight. I didn’t protest, and I didn’t ask for forgiveness. He would give me that when he was ready and in his own way. Besides, when the end result of his playroom antics meant I’d have a night of mind-blowing pleasure, why would I protest?

This was his way of coming to terms with his problems, a rather creative way, but still a coping mechanism. If it brought both partners some enjoyment, what was the problem with it? I wiped at my mouth delicately after I brushed my teeth and reapplied my lipstick. The line was perfect, and the color, a deep burgundy that was too dark for me to wear out in public, was one Dylan had chosen. He loved to smear it across my lips in the playroom, and I liked to accommodate him.

It wasn’t exactly how I’d pictured the night going, and from the rose petals I’d seen strewn over the bed, I knew it wasn’t what he’d had planned either, but fate had decided that tonight would either make or break us. So far, it hadn’t broken us. I didn’t think.

I let my hair down around my shoulders and opened the bathroom door. He stood there, waiting for me, his head down and his hands in the pockets of a pair of dark gray flannel pajama bottoms. He had on a black tank top that stretched across his muscular chest, and I had to clench my nails into my palms to stop my hands from reaching out to touch his exposed skin. His head came up, and his dark hair fell back away from his eyes.

I loved his eyes, rimmed with long, thick black eye lashes. They bored into mine like a laser, and I inhaled sharply. I’d seen a look like love there for a second, but then it was gone.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice low and quiet. There was no need for nervousness or to shout. It was only us, and nobody could hear us.

“I’m ready, sir.” I smiled a dark, enigmatic smile. Almost the smile of an automaton, but not quite. I bowed my head and took his hand as he led me to the playroom.

The fact that the flower petals did not lead to this room told me that he hadn’t planned the night to take us here, but that was where we were. There was no going back now.

My eyes darted around the room, to the cuffs embedded in the walls, the barrel he’d sometimes tie me to. The special table that was shaped like an “x” that would allow the dom to spread the arms and legs of the sub or close them tightly with the push of a button. Then there were the implements of pleasurable torture that he had available. Whips, straps, floggers, clamps, and even a variety of plugs for various orifices were all displayed along one wall and on numerous black shelves. This room could bring you pain, pleasure, or a mixture of both.

Dylan let me stare at the room, left me to wander as he inspected his implements. I stood still and waited for direction. I didn’t question him or ask where he wanted me to go, because I knew he would tell me when he’d decided. He would lead me, as was his duty.

“Here,” he said after a long wait. My brain had gone quiet, inactive, as I waited, but now it went on alert, and I jumped to answer his demand.

I went to the barrel and waited for his touch. He would guide me in every move I made from here until we walked out of this room.

“I will buy you a new pair of these, because I have a feeling I will destroy them tonight.” His fingers came down, a warm caress, as he slid a finger lower on my abdomen, between my skin and the edge of my panties. I held a breath and waited; would he tease me now? Would he touch me there, to prime me for what was to come?

I felt relief as my bra was unsnapped, and cool air washed over my breasts. He’d removed my bra, at least. He gripped at my breasts for a moment before he removed them and gently pushed me down with a touch between my shoulder blades. “Face down, Emily.”

I guided my hands to the cuffs along the broad wooden barrel, and he clamped the closures shut. My head was down now, and my feet had left the floor. Each of my ankles was closed in the same kind of fleece-lined cuff, and my capture was complete.

I heard Dylan move and then saw his knees as his body came into view at my head. The barrel was really quite large, even if it was only half of the thing. The wood had been sanded smooth and varnished so that I wouldn’t get splinters, but it was still a rough texture against my delicate skin.

“For now, I want your senses attuned to only what you feel, Emily. It’s still odd to call you that, you know. It does seem right, somehow. Emily. I like it. Let’s make you mine all over again now.” He placed a blindfold over my eyes, little more than a scrap of leather that blurred out the light and my view.

He went further than that. He put a ball in my mouth, and I felt the ties go around my head. I almost protested, the ball always made my jaw sore later, but I held it back. When I felt him push something into my ear, I almost jumped, but I held myself quiet, submissive with a desperate clutch at control. My hearing became muted.

Until he put the other earplug in.

Now, I couldn’t hear much of anything at all. I did feel his fingers as they skated down my back, along the curve of my buttock, and down to my thigh. He must have followed the path of his hand because next, I felt the breath of hot air as his lips came down on my skin. Just where my ass and my thigh met.

My back curled, eager to accept his touch. I knew where this was going, and I wanted him to begin. I needed him to begin.

I’d come to him as a new woman tonight. I was Emily now, not Stephanie, the waif he’d picked up at an exclusive strip club. I was Emily, a woman who didn’t need his money or his name. I only needed what he could give me. Controlled pleasure, domination of my every thought and feeling, and the ability to submit who I was to someone else for my own gain.

Dylan was my master, totally now, because I’d given him that power. My toes curled when his lips brushed along my ass. Would he make me come so soon? Or was this just a moment in the long tease? I wanted to move. My hip ached a bit, pressed into the wood, but I endured it. Any movement now could be seen as rebellion, if it wasn’t in response to a touch.

Dylan moved, and I felt alone. In the darkness, I waited, my brain turned off again, but my body wasn’t. Far from it, in fact. I could feel the juices of my excitement already soaking into my panties, and a heat burned from my nipples and down to somewhere in my lower abdomen. The heat made my nipples tight and achy as they pressed into the hard plane of the wood. My head rested against the barrel, my right cheek pressed into the wood.