I am lying on my front. My arms are spread above me and my legs are spread apart. I must not move and so I lie still, bound by his will. My body is pressed into the sheets and my sensitivity to the touch of the cotton is a telltale sign that my body knows what is to come. I twitch ever so slightly on the inside as my head communicates with my body.
“It has been a while missy. Are you ready little one?”
I feel his weight and warmth next to me. My skin prickles with delight. He whispers in my ear that he loves me and reminds me about my colours. He runs his hands across my skin, waking it up further. I push myself into the bed as his fingers trace the line of my body from head to toe. He is making me his. He trails back up and checks to see if I am wet. He knows it has started for me and he has me where he wants me, not just physically but emotionally as well. I long to touch him and he knows it. He moves his body over me so that I am aware of his arousal and I hear him reach for his cane. He adjusts his position and the tapping starts.
It begins like a massage as the blows fall gently and I dissolve into his rhythm. Like music, is sings inside me and I begin to lose myself as it builds to a crescendo and then dies back down. I am quickly lost to the sensation and it is like I take on a different form. I become free as everything falls away – no thoughts, no worries, just him and me and the gentle thud of his taps. I listen for his sounds and strain to feel the warmth of his body. He shifts and leans in again.
“Good girl. You are doing really well and you are making me very happy. I want you to take some harder ones for me now. Can you do that missy?”
He continues but the harder blows do not come. He alters his rhythm and pauses a bit then begins again. This is how it goes. The dance back and forth that plays with my body and my pulls at my mind. That flits across me, moving too quickly for me to ever catch hold of it. It ripples, it darts, it is both gentle and fierce simultaneously. The most tender of stings.
Suddenly it comes. I gasp slightly and curl my toes. A cold rush that floods my body, turning to heat before I can even process it. And again, and twice more. His fingers trace the lines and their pressure helps. I am grounded by him, tethered to him, I am his. He holds me there a moment, in that space, and then resumes. Time falls away as senses shift. I become the pain and the pleasure. I become him and am the conductor for a moment, then I drop back into my body again. I move with the rise and the fall. I drift to the edge and back again. I am weightless as the waves carry me onward. I am transposed from one reality to the next as my consciousness drifts.
He continues for I don’t know how long. Time has no place here and I have no need for it. He is time. He is all that I need. He builds and he pushes, working my limits. He knows where I am, for he is pulling me there. I go with him, I take his hand. I take whatever he gives and whatever I get. He is in possession of me and I sparkle for him. The pain prickles and twinkles on my skin and my reality becomes defined by its own terms. I am lost but safe, and there is nothing more to do but to let go.