Feb 9, 2012

Hands

I turn around to see you after I let the leash attached to your collar fall. The end of it now hangs somewhere between your legs. It's the only thing partially covering your naked smooth sex.

Even though your eyes are covered by the blindfold, I can see your nervousness when I let the leash fall and break the connection between us. Suddenly you are alone, even more blinded and helpless than before.

I put my hand on your shoulder. Your skin is soft, smooth, warm with the situation, with your exposedness, with your need. I feel the relief of once more being connected with me, when I touch you - but also the shivering excitement right beneath your surface, and then the humiliation when I order you to spread your legs to let yourself be seen. My order confirm to you what you must already have sensed: that here are others in the room.  The moment you realize that I sense the sweet humiliation - the moment of resistance and 'this cannot be true' melting away as you resign yourself to being exhibited, embrace the fact that you're exhibited, powerless - that goes through you as a slight shaking from your core and all the way to the tips of your toes.

‘Much better’, I smile - even though you can only hear the smile in my voice. I caress you slowly with the side of my finger, I let it run over the softness of your skin along your upper arm while I enjoy the look of how your slender figure is enhanced and displayed by the dark corset, by the collar that makes you mine, by the nipples that are lifted above the corset, presented, naked and rock hard.

You sense the men in the room around you, their nearness, warmth, breath and then... after a nod of me, your owner, hands all over your body.

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