stand silently as my wrists are bound behind my back.
Still silent, as a velvet hood encircles my face.
Remain mute, as I am ushered along a corridor, my bare feet shuffling on the plush carpet. Demurely being led to a destination without force, by unknown, faceless strangers, without resisting. How many people surround me? I have no idea. I sense their energy, not their quantity.
I am forced to confront the stark reality of asking myself once and for all, if I do, in all honesty, trust Jeremy. Imagine my life without the seductive, beguiling, enticing and challenging Jeremy in it. Of course I trust him, when have I not? He brings my otherwise black and white life into brilliant technicolour. Although I’d be remiss if I didn’t also acknowledge his expertise in creating phenomenal psychological dramas, such as the one I am currently in. My thoughts are suddenly interrupted by a deep baritone voice.
‘Bring her to me.’
I am brought.
Strong male hands lightly grip my upper arms.
‘Remove her robe.’
It is removed.
My legs are stationed apart.
Life is strange, you know. We spend our whole lives building up self-esteem, learning to love ourselves, educate ourselves, ‘better’ ourselves, and then it comes to this? How incredibly quickly the confidence we build for ourselves, built carefully layer upon layer over the years, the decades, can dissolve into insignificance in mere seconds.
The way people look and dress and act, what you do, what you earn, how well educated you are, means nothing when you are stripped bare, desperately naked, vision violated, symbols of slavery strapped to your ankles, wrists and neck.
Two fingers deftly penetrate my vagina so efficiently that my mind is instantly silenced and reality slices through me. I stagger forward with the shock of the intrusion but am held securely in place. My breathing quickens in response.
What power is left? What ounce of human dignity?
How is it then, that if I had a penis, I’d have a massive erection?
I have a sense of slipping into a psychological void, a place I have never dared enter within my own psyche, somewhat like I imagine Alice felt sliding down the rabbit hole in her mind. I am compelled to continue the journey.
‘Note that,’ says the baritone.
Noting … I really am on the other side of the experiment now. Who would have thought that I would be standing here accepting the violation that has just occurred to my body? Not me, not in a million years.
‘Place her in position.’
Outwardly, no voice, no sight. Complete acquiescence as I am lowered into a kneeling position.
Something long, thin, smooth and cold slides under my breasts. I inhale sharply at the touch. Like the bow of a violin, it moves back and forward across my chest, sliding slowly below my breasts, then above, then carefully and accurately past the tips of my nipples as if tuning itself to my body. The sensation is slow and rhythmic and I’m grateful I’m already on my knees. My nipples harden in anticipation as illicit shivers cascade through my shoulders and back. The bow then moves seamlessly and elegantly between my thighs, creating such a heightened sensual tension it causes me to cry out in anticipation of what is to come. It is preparing my body for imminent play.
‘Hmm. She does react instantaneously, J, just as you said. This is excellent news.’
J — Jeremy? He has been discussing me with others? Of course he has, I’m here aren’t I? I answer my own question.
‘Jeremy! Please talk to me.’ My voice escapes more softly than I expect; apparently it has been buried too long.
Finally, his voice comes from behind me, I’m relieved to know he is so close. ‘Yes, Alexa. I am right here.’ His words whisper comfortingly against my ear.
‘Oh, thank god, there you are.’ I nestle my face towards him. ‘Is this honestly what you want from me, want me to experience?’
‘I have never wanted anything more in my life,’ he states quietly, sensually.
‘Really?’ Okay, this is it. Can I do this for him, for myself, for us?
‘I want you to embrace every emotion you encounter and accept it, knowing that it is part of you, part of your sexuality. I will never leave you and I will look after you. All you must do is trust me enough to give yourself wholly over to the process. Surrender yourself to me, to this experience, knowing that the fear is worth the pleasure. Only you can decide whether we continue or not, right here, right now. Just tell me, yes or no.’ How is it that he may as well be having this conversation with my clitoris, instead of my brain?
Tears well up in my blind eyes. I can’t control the intensity of my emotions any more. Do I surrender to this innate longing that has haunted me for years and simply say, yes? Our shared memories dance in my mind. The tension. The game playing. The teasing, the tormenting. His dominance. My submission. And our combined love of these roles. So he wants to push the boundaries. Deep down I acknowledge that I, too, want to know how far they can be pushed, knowing I would only ever allow them to be pushed by him.
‘Yes.’ My decision relieves me beyond belief and I let out an almighty sigh as I finally succumb to my destiny, the destiny Jeremy has created.
‘Thank you. You won’t regret this. I promise.’ He removes the hood and softly kisses my lips.
‘I am going to silence you now so you are unable to speak. Is there anything else you would like to say before I do this?’
I shake my head. The reality that I’m willing to allow myself to enter such uncharted territory scares the living daylights out of me, yet arouses me so ferociously it’s intoxicating. He opens my mouth and squirts a citrus-tasting spray onto my tongue and the back of my throat. It produces a strange numbing sensation and I can’t help but test its effectiveness. No sound whatsoever — I am now mute as well as blind.
‘Please place her in position.’
The strong arms raise my body off the floor, like a rag doll, as I am lifted to some higher place. A platform? It’s almost as if gravity is inconsequential and I am weightless. Once again, I am placed on my knees and, still in this position, my legs are separated with both knees and ankles anchored to the firm spongy floor, thanks to the added convenience of my leather binds. Given my wrists are still bound behind me, I am well and truly stationed in position.
I want this. I need to understand where it leads me. I don’t struggle. I’m strapped to the floor. I am not free to see; I am not free to speak; I am not free to move. I am free to experience the complete and utter fear, excitement, shame and arousal penetrating each and every cell as anxiety trembles physically through my body. How peculiar and fascinating that these emotions can exist in unison.
‘There are a few items requiring clarification before we progress further.’ The baritone voice again.
I have been remiss. I should add to my list, I am free to hear.
‘Please examine her again.’
Once
