User submitted bdsm story by Georgina. Thank you

No sex. No kiss. No touch… Nothing compares to being at your mercy, I said to my wine glass, tracing the rim with my finger and refusing to meet the eyes of my dinner companion. I could see him in my peripheral vision. David… He gave no indication that he wished to reply, which told me that I was expected to elaborate. The warmth of surrender threatened my composure, but I continued…

A circle of pain, my finger indicated the circular motion,you hand me your pain, I experience it, I purge it, and you take it away. You take it back so that you can hand it to me again, and again, and again… And my own pain gets mixed in with yours and now it‚s our pain.

He seemed satisfied with my description. It sounded contrived to me. Hell, it was contrived. I’d written it all out in my diary a few nights before. But my skin was crawling with submission and my defenses were melting. It was one of those nights. Late October and a storm was blowing in. I didn’t have a prayer. You find beauty in pain. I glanced at my untouched dinner and savored the knot in my stomach. In a sense. But I also find pain in beauty. Whether I seek it or not. He nodded, his eyes never leaving me as he sipped the wine. You fear pleasure. I do. And yet you crave the fear. More than chocolate. You’re afraid right now. No… I challenged. My eyes managed to confront his as I stood my ground. I was lying of course. My fingertips were numb from the chill on my hands. My pulse quickened when he began to stand – slowly. A less attractive man would have looked absurd executing such wolf-like movements. It was a game, true. He was the hunter and I, the hunted. We fell quite naturally into our respective roles, and perhaps that was the reason it never felt like a facade.

He circled me and stood behind me for a long time before two sleek, strong hands crept up my arms and sent a wave of warm chills over me. My breath caught in my throat and I heard him chuckle. That menacing, sadistic chuckle. I knew I would bleed that night. No? His right hand rested against the side of my throat. I knew that he could feel my heart pounding against his touch. That‚s what he was doing – checking my pulse. He did it to show me that there was nothing I could hide from him. He knew my fear. He craved my fear as much as I did. And he knew my weaknesses. A slight upward inclination of his head indicated to me that I should stand, which I did timidly. My heart beat faster and he smiled at me. Those perfect teeth… And his other hand was tracing a path between my ear and my clavicle. I could feel desire painting my cheeks and my eyelids grew heavy.

You’re not breathing, Kiddo. All my strengths fled and I welcomed the darkness as my eyes closed. I could never breathe when we locked eyes that way. It was too intense. The sharpness of his features, the timbre of his voice – all more than I could bear.

I love the way you intimidate me, I whispered into his chest while he smoothed my hair. I don’t mean to be intimidating. Yes you do. The corner of his mouth twitched a little and he aborted a grin. Instead, he arched one eyebrow as if to say, „touché. Tell me,” he ordered. I want you to hurt me, I whispered to my half-empty wine glass on the table.

Tell ME, he insisted, gently titling my chin and demanding my gaze. David… The sound of his voice alone was enough to send shivers all the way down to my toes. As intense as it was, as frightened as I was of my own desire, his eyes could poison my poise and slay my apathy towards physical expressions of love, leaving me defenseless under his command.

His hand slithered around to the back of my neck. Warm, masculine strength. My hands always gave me away. They would freeze at the slightest hint of apprehension. David, on the other hand, was composure incarnate. And I was melting in my antithesis to his authority. My vision blurred as the phrase he sought fell from my lips.

I want you to hurt me.

With anyone else, these ridiculous games of master and servant would have been just that. But it didn‚t feel like a game that night. Or any night. His long fingers wrapped themselves around the hair at the nape of my neck and the pleasure I no longer bothered to resist, the fear I still craved, the warmth that bristled over my skin… those tangled sensations humbled me as his forehead came to rest upon mine. I won’t disappoint you. His tone was menacing, but his expression was gentle. Almost playful. Almost… My arms had at some point wound their way around the back of his neck, and my fingers had become interlaced. He reached around, caught one of my wrists and led me into the next room, killing the light in the dining room along the way. Only the simmering fire place illuminated us. Warm and comforting. And yet fear still tickled my extremities.

Kneel.

Yes, Sir, the sound of my own voice made me dizzy whenever I addressed him as „Sir.‰ Then there was that malicious chuckle. David never broke character. I knew that his intentions were sadistic, but his touch was still so soothing. I sank to my knees while he continued to stroke my hair.

Shivers coated my body. In anticipation of the pain. In anticipation of terrifying and tremendous pleasure… Something was melting behind my eyes as he wrapped my hair around his fingers again, forcing my head down. Yes, I knew the pose all too well.. My muscles remembered before my mind did. My forehead rested between my hands and I closed my eyes. With David, I closed my eyes to surrender, never to escape. I surrendered to the spell of darkness that left me no choice but to trust him. And I did. Implicitly.

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