Kidnaped by Maîtresse Nuit, a BDSM tale of suspense, captivity and bondage
The sounds of the cars speeding on the wet tarmac morphed into ropes saturated with water, winding around the cockpit of the vehicle.
Encased in a tight leather hood, the blood pumping at your temples became a rhythmic drone to which waves of images formed on the sea of your semi-conscious mind.
At first, random scenes passed thru your mind, a bacchanalia of mundane processions mixed with erotic cohorts followed your irregular breath drenched with adrenaline and fighting with the gnawing pain of the minute clamps pinching your nipples. They rose and ebbed with your respiration, brought on layers of scents released with each breath and the warming of the hood.
The road seemed to widen and the smoother ride allowed you give in to the pain and to focus on a recurring, reassuring sequence loop:
On inhalation, the head of precious resin pricked your nostrils and invaded your brain: suddenly, you laid prostrate on the barren floor under the commanding presence of your Mistress. Just as you felt her pointed heels dangerously planted on each side of your head, the image dissolved with your exhalation in the subtle cloud where lingered the shady notes of frankincense and bay leaves burned on the altar of the Goddess…
A new breath brought on a faint arabesque of ambergris notes, the softness of her gloved hand warming your expectant skin, the scent of resin pervading your brain as the image focused and the taps became thuds… Again the hallucination dissolved with exhalation.
Again and again, your breath brought back the striking images and scents, sharpen by the barely tolerable biting radiating from your nipples, tracing unknown paths to your groin, and your loins, opening channels of synapses filling with white hot sensuous electricity circling your balls and anus, biting your perineum and gripping the base of your cock before ascending the shaft and crowing the gland. Again and again, they gave shape to the longing of your soul for surrender to her will and her rituals.
And, as the car slowed down along the gravel path, and the pain became excruciating, you understood that there was no turning back, you had entered through a crack between the worlds, and the path leading to the stone staircase and the amber glow of torches, lead to Her , the black figure veiled who beckon you to your Captivity.
'Faille' Nuit d'Or©2014