The Exhibitionist
Page 8
Nathaniel hadn’t moved and didn’t say anything, so I made my way to the middle of the room and knelt. I looked down at the floor and fell almost immediately into my yoga breathing. I breathed in the calm of the playroom and exhaled the stress of my jealousy.
He didn’t come to me immediately, perhaps allowing me time to get in my headspace. When he did walk toward me, I heard him place several things behind me.
“This is not a discipline session; it’s a lesson in trust,” he said. “However, because it’s a lesson and not a play scene, you’re not allowed to come. Understand?”
“Yes, Master.” Damn it.
“I’m also going to film our session,” he said. “Stand for me, Abigail.”
He’d recently installed a video camera in the playroom and occasionally filmed our time together. It added another layer of excitement for me. I hurried to my feet and he took down the chains above my head and buckled my wrists into the cuffs. He walked to stand in front of me.
“This is going to be intense.” He reached above my head and wrapped my fingers around a bell. “Drop it to safe word.”
My heart pounded. There was only one reason he’d give me a bell to stop the scene. My suspicion was confirmed when he took a ball gag out of his pocket. Holy hell. It’d been a long time since we used a gag. Even though he told me I wouldn’t be coming, arousal warmed low in my belly.
“Open,” he said, and slid the gag into place.
Next he withdrew a blindfold and covered my eyes. I thought he’d start the scene, but instead he brushed my hair back and pulled it into a low ponytail.
“I’ve taken away your sight, and your ability to talk and move. Now I’m going to take your hearing. You will be totally and completely at both my mercy and disposal. Nod if you understand.”
I normally loved this type of scene, but normally I was given permission to orgasm. I wasn’t nearly as excited as I typically would be. I nodded.
“You have the bell to drop if this becomes too much. Drop it and we stop immediately.”
He normally didn’t take so much time reminding me of my safe words or in this case, safe out signal. For the first time in a long while, I felt a twinge of nervousness.
“If you don’t have any objection, I’m going to insert the earplugs.”
My fist tightened on the bell. I didn’t want to drop it, but I felt reassured just knowing it was there.
He waited a few more seconds and then I was plunged into total nothingness.
Everything was already black from the blindfold, but it wasn’t until the earplugs were put in that I felt truly vulnerable.
There was nothing but silent darkness and I was naked and exposed. I allowed the feelings of being in such a position to wash over me, only relishing the fear because I felt completely safe.
I waited for Nathaniel’s touch. When I’d been in similar positions before, I’d jump when he touched me, and this time I wanted to be prepared. I waited for his touch, anticipating it on my back, or my breasts, or my ass. But there was nothing.
There was no movement at all that I could perceive. Just stillness and darkness and silence. Nathaniel would never leave me alone in such a state. I knew he had to be in the room somewhere. But my mind wandered. He could have walked out of the room and left me all alone. I wouldn’t have been able to tell.
The silence became deafening, and I imagined I heard the shuffling of feet or a creak of the floorboard. The stillness hummed inside my head and I heard my heart beating and felt the movement of air in and out of my lungs. It was the only thing to grasp on to, so I focused on my breathing.
Even though I said I would anticipate his touch, the first sweep of his fingers down my back made me jump. He pressed against me, and his body shook with laughter. I smiled. Some things never changed. With a quick kiss to the nape of my neck, he was gone.
I was prepared for his touch, but the sharp press of metal along my upper arm almost made me drop the bell.
Is that a knife?
I knew it wasn’t. Blood play was one of my hard limits. But it felt like a knife and it had stung and, holy shit, there was something wet on my skin. Panic clawed at my throat.
The feel of metal left my skin and his arms surrounded me, hugging me tight.
I was safe. I was safe. I was safe.
I repeated the words over and over in my head, and relaxed into his arms. Gradually, my racing heart slowed and the panic disappeared. He took a step back and the sharp pain returned, skimming along the other arm. I lifted myself up on my toes and twisted to get away from it, but he slapped my butt as a reminder I was to be still.
I argued with myself. It felt so much like a knife, it had to be a knife. But just as certainly, I knew it couldn’t be. He would never go against my hard limits.
Trust him. The scene was all about trusting him. And I trusted him enough to know beyond a shadow of doubt, he wasn’t cutting me.
I felt the next sweep of whatever instrument it was around my breast, and though I’d told myself it wasn’t a knife, it again felt sharp. I tried to protest around the gag in my mouth. But of course I couldn’t. He dragged whatever it was up across my nipple. It hurt, but it wasn’t a constant pain. I sucked in my breath. That meant it wasn’t a knife, right? I couldn’t decide. For long seconds there was nothing, just my mantra repeating in my head: I’m safe, I’m safe, I’m safe.
He circled the other breast and, fuck it all, it felt as if he was slicing my skin. My fingers tightened around the ball. But right before I dropped it, I realized the liquid couldn’t be blood; there wasn’t enough.
I waited for the next pass and he surprised me by pressing it down my side. I gasped around the gag. He didn’t stop, but brought it around my back and up the other side. I jerked against the pressure, but he wouldn’t stop unless I dropped the bell.
Trust.
Trust.
Trust.
I focused on that one word, and before long, I was drifting in my head. I trusted him with my life. He held my soul in his hands and would protect me.
I wasn’t sure how much time passed before I realized he was simply holding me. He’d somehow managed to unbuckle me without me noticing. He stood behind me, his arms once more wrapped tightly around me.
His hands came up and gently, one at a time, he removed the earplugs. Sound came back to me in a loud whoosh. But it was his voice I listened for, and when it came it was low and husky.
He didn’t come to me immediately, perhaps allowing me time to get in my headspace. When he did walk toward me, I heard him place several things behind me.
“This is not a discipline session; it’s a lesson in trust,” he said. “However, because it’s a lesson and not a play scene, you’re not allowed to come. Understand?”
“Yes, Master.” Damn it.
“I’m also going to film our session,” he said. “Stand for me, Abigail.”
He’d recently installed a video camera in the playroom and occasionally filmed our time together. It added another layer of excitement for me. I hurried to my feet and he took down the chains above my head and buckled my wrists into the cuffs. He walked to stand in front of me.
“This is going to be intense.” He reached above my head and wrapped my fingers around a bell. “Drop it to safe word.”
My heart pounded. There was only one reason he’d give me a bell to stop the scene. My suspicion was confirmed when he took a ball gag out of his pocket. Holy hell. It’d been a long time since we used a gag. Even though he told me I wouldn’t be coming, arousal warmed low in my belly.
“Open,” he said, and slid the gag into place.
Next he withdrew a blindfold and covered my eyes. I thought he’d start the scene, but instead he brushed my hair back and pulled it into a low ponytail.
“I’ve taken away your sight, and your ability to talk and move. Now I’m going to take your hearing. You will be totally and completely at both my mercy and disposal. Nod if you understand.”
I normally loved this type of scene, but normally I was given permission to orgasm. I wasn’t nearly as excited as I typically would be. I nodded.
“You have the bell to drop if this becomes too much. Drop it and we stop immediately.”
He normally didn’t take so much time reminding me of my safe words or in this case, safe out signal. For the first time in a long while, I felt a twinge of nervousness.
“If you don’t have any objection, I’m going to insert the earplugs.”
My fist tightened on the bell. I didn’t want to drop it, but I felt reassured just knowing it was there.
He waited a few more seconds and then I was plunged into total nothingness.
Everything was already black from the blindfold, but it wasn’t until the earplugs were put in that I felt truly vulnerable.
There was nothing but silent darkness and I was naked and exposed. I allowed the feelings of being in such a position to wash over me, only relishing the fear because I felt completely safe.
I waited for Nathaniel’s touch. When I’d been in similar positions before, I’d jump when he touched me, and this time I wanted to be prepared. I waited for his touch, anticipating it on my back, or my breasts, or my ass. But there was nothing.
There was no movement at all that I could perceive. Just stillness and darkness and silence. Nathaniel would never leave me alone in such a state. I knew he had to be in the room somewhere. But my mind wandered. He could have walked out of the room and left me all alone. I wouldn’t have been able to tell.
The silence became deafening, and I imagined I heard the shuffling of feet or a creak of the floorboard. The stillness hummed inside my head and I heard my heart beating and felt the movement of air in and out of my lungs. It was the only thing to grasp on to, so I focused on my breathing.
Even though I said I would anticipate his touch, the first sweep of his fingers down my back made me jump. He pressed against me, and his body shook with laughter. I smiled. Some things never changed. With a quick kiss to the nape of my neck, he was gone.
I was prepared for his touch, but the sharp press of metal along my upper arm almost made me drop the bell.
Is that a knife?
I knew it wasn’t. Blood play was one of my hard limits. But it felt like a knife and it had stung and, holy shit, there was something wet on my skin. Panic clawed at my throat.
The feel of metal left my skin and his arms surrounded me, hugging me tight.
I was safe. I was safe. I was safe.
I repeated the words over and over in my head, and relaxed into his arms. Gradually, my racing heart slowed and the panic disappeared. He took a step back and the sharp pain returned, skimming along the other arm. I lifted myself up on my toes and twisted to get away from it, but he slapped my butt as a reminder I was to be still.
I argued with myself. It felt so much like a knife, it had to be a knife. But just as certainly, I knew it couldn’t be. He would never go against my hard limits.
Trust him. The scene was all about trusting him. And I trusted him enough to know beyond a shadow of doubt, he wasn’t cutting me.
I felt the next sweep of whatever instrument it was around my breast, and though I’d told myself it wasn’t a knife, it again felt sharp. I tried to protest around the gag in my mouth. But of course I couldn’t. He dragged whatever it was up across my nipple. It hurt, but it wasn’t a constant pain. I sucked in my breath. That meant it wasn’t a knife, right? I couldn’t decide. For long seconds there was nothing, just my mantra repeating in my head: I’m safe, I’m safe, I’m safe.
He circled the other breast and, fuck it all, it felt as if he was slicing my skin. My fingers tightened around the ball. But right before I dropped it, I realized the liquid couldn’t be blood; there wasn’t enough.
I waited for the next pass and he surprised me by pressing it down my side. I gasped around the gag. He didn’t stop, but brought it around my back and up the other side. I jerked against the pressure, but he wouldn’t stop unless I dropped the bell.
Trust.
Trust.
Trust.
I focused on that one word, and before long, I was drifting in my head. I trusted him with my life. He held my soul in his hands and would protect me.
I wasn’t sure how much time passed before I realized he was simply holding me. He’d somehow managed to unbuckle me without me noticing. He stood behind me, his arms once more wrapped tightly around me.
His hands came up and gently, one at a time, he removed the earplugs. Sound came back to me in a loud whoosh. But it was his voice I listened for, and when it came it was low and husky.
