The cold of the room settles over my body. Coating skin in quivers and goosebumps. The silence marred only by the scuff of shoes against hardwood.
The restraints hold me, light and loose. Seemingly free but growing taut in movement, I wonder what this configuration would be needed for. The feel of the silk felt soft and smooth before, welcoming. But now it’s one more sensation in a catalogue. Deprived of sight and restrained from active touch, each new morsel of information is held and savoured.
I feel a cold prickle, uncomfortable and almost sharp, work it’s way up my leg. The thought that’s it is a bug drifts into my mind and I jerk. The sensation is gone. For a moment I’m relieved, but the soft silence returns. And the prickle begins again against my right hip this time.
I hold myself still. Not daring to breath, and still it wends its slow way up my side and across my breast. Pressing pickles across the top and painfully pressing into my breastbone. Slowly it moves to my bellybutton and I begin to thrash a bit, panicked it will move into me. And it moves down away from there and before I can sigh in relief it presses against my outer labia.
The panic swells in me, almost uncontrollable. I scream into my gag and the sensation goes away.
My heart beats faster and I almost panic.
A warm hand slips into mine and I feel liquid. Pel’s here. The shift from panic to relief whipsaws me around. I feel warm and tingly. And languid.
I feel the soft cotton of his clothes and then his weight settle atop me. Pressing into the soft and yet unyielding grip of the futon style bed.
Swaddled in silk and Pel, the gag comes loose and is quickly replaced by his lips. Pressing light and opening my mouth with a tongue insisting on the taste of me. Dancing and fighting, we plunder each other. Letting it all focus away into this.
And then, I’m cold again. The removal of his heat hits like a slap against my body entire. The gag is back in place and I almost think that I dreamed him. And the room returns to silence.