behind closed doors

The faint clink.. glasses downstairs full of cheer, the higher pitches of my friends’ laughter, the gushing “Oh”s and “Ah”s … you wonder what we are saying, wonder what news has been shared, what detail was so important to us.

Oh, but you had a nice afternoon, didn’t you? Finding a vase for the black-eyed susans, chilling the wine, dragging the blender from the pantry.. stealing bites of the appetizers!

Oh, but that last thing is forgiven. You were so nice to help, my dear. So nice, even when you do not get to be with us.

Are you enjoying your time now? I run upstairs to the bathroom, and peer in at you across the hall. You know it is me, the click click on the hardwood unmistakable, my hot breath over your cock. Your cock–which has already hardened as I open the door. Good. Good.

I pick up the new whip and crack it hard onto the bed beside you. You flinch, expecting the worst, but I leave you quickly, trace my fingers up your wide open thighs and let my hand rest near your balls for a moment before I walk away, gaze back at you spread eagle and blindfolded, restrained on my bed. I see your cock twitch hopefully. The door shuts. I kick off the heels and run back downstairs.

My friends wait for me. Do they see my distraction?

I think not. I feel alive, in charge. The conversation is lively, wonderful while you writhe, my dear.

“So tell us more about him…”

By “him,” they mean you. They have heard about hints about you, you know. They have heard hints about your various attributes, perhaps. But not about this.

The telephone rings. I take the call upstairs.. a short one. But enough time to check once more.

You lie, waiting. Of course. Where could you go?

I set up the laptop at the end of the bed, put in the DVD. A bit of entertainment while you are restrained. Your favorite scenario… or one of them. Enjoy, dear. I see your cock twitch, your arm trying to break free, that pleading look on your face. Just as I wished. I smile back at you, and float back down the stairs, drunk in my own delight.

My friends do not know that I tease you to the verge of orgasm sometimes for hours before spreading my legs for you. It makes you desperate, savage when I unfasten the cuffs and let you fuck me. I let you fuck me, yes, let you push me past my already heady state into utter ecstasy, let you come violently in me. Sublime.

My friends do not know that when they leave, I will remove the gag and whip you hard until sweat and tears run down your face, until you cry–oh, you naughty thing, tasting the appetizers!–until you finally utter the word that will make me stop immediately. Or until I know better than you do.

But ha! They do not even know you are here.

They do not know.

You may find your release, my dear, your pleasure.. You may thrash about, and let me dominate you as I will–gleefully.


And then, later on, sometime, when your power comes back to you, when I am tired and relinquish control, my friends would be surprised.

This chatty hostess can become so, so submissive…

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