And when the one person who lets you feel free in that regard also tries to kill you, it makes you gun-shy. Like that level of freedom, lack of inhibition, comes at a sharp cost.
So my thoughts have been mine, and mine alone. Not something I’ve even delved that deep into, although they’re there. Even when I’ve touched myself in the darkest part of the night, I’ve kept my thoughts relatively chaste.
But my darkest desires have remained there, simmering somewhere deep down.
And the lust in Soren’s eyes, his conspiratorial whispers, are pulling them to the surface. Ready to be spoken aloud.
My pulse jumps at the thought, excitement causing my body to tingle.
Even if we never do any of these things, the act of speaking them aloud is enough to make me throb. I jam my thighs together.
Soren notices, and he smirks. Approving. “Tell me,” he says. Not a suggestion.
“Okay.” I exhale in preparation for what I’m about to say. “I’ve thought about…” I start, then stop, heat rising fast. The act of actually saying it is more confronting than thinking about doing it.
His thumb brushes along my jaw, holding me there. “Keep going.” Not encouragement. Expectation.
Fuck it. I might as well tell him one of the most full-on ones.
“I’ve wondered what it would be like to be… incapacitated,” I say quietly. “Bound. Unable to move.”
He goes still.
I don’t stop. “To have someone I trust come in and just… take control. Do whatever they want.”
His grip tightens slightly.
My pulse is loud now. “I wouldn’t be able to see them. I wouldn’t know who it was—for sure, anyway.” My voice is quieter now. “They’d just—take what they wanted, however they wanted—rough and hard, though, for sure. Feral, primal, carnal.”
His thumb presses into my lip, holding it there. “Not just anyone.”
My breath stutters.
“You’d need to trust them,” he says. “Completely. Enough to let them do whatever they want to you.”
I don’t answer.
Because he’s not asking. He’s correcting.
Rewriting it.
Silence settles between us, and I feel a blush starting to creep up my chest and onto my cheeks. I force myself to meet his eyes, expecting to see judgment. But there’s none. Something about his look encourages me to say more.
“The rope burns would serve as a reminder, because they’d be pulled so tight—so expertly—that they’d dig into my flesh and give me welts and bruises criss-crossed all over my body.”
Soren nods, his mouth curved into a small smile.
“And then, when he was done, he would just… leave. Leave my body and soul used and discarded. Thrown away like a cheap whore left on the street. A worthless cunt who didn’t deserve anything better than to be fucked within an inch of my life, filled with cum that would seep out of me for hours, a reminder of how he just took me over completely and did whatever he wanted with me while I lay there helpless.”
The image in my head is so vivid—so visceral—my body hums. Wanting it. Craving it just how I described.
I let out a little moan at the thought.
“And my pussy—and maybe even my ass—would be sore for days, battered and bruised, left wondering if it was him who ravaged me while I couldn’t move. Every time I adjusted my position, I would feel him inside me.”
My entrance is slick now, my pussy throbbing while I think about being prone, helpless. Waiting for him to come and unbind me at a time of his choosing. Lying there with my pussy pounding with the pain of being fucked so hard without being able to move.
“And he wouldn’t let me come. He would edge me. Taking me there until I was almost there—making me beg for it—and then swearing at me. Calling me degrading names and then spitting on me. Fucking me so he got his own pleasure, so his cum coated my back and my chest and my face. Blindfolding me and flipping me around—my back, my stomach, every way. Destroying me.”