From time to time I'll be sharing some short fiction stories. This one is written by a very good friend of mine, Gamma.
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"What A Week"
Shorty story by by
gamma_1963(c) 2005 All Rights Reserved
I look at my watch as I hurry to the door to my apartment. Five to eight. Damn. I knew I shouldn't have stayed for that "quick drink" after work. But what a dreadful week it's been. Customers cancelling orders, deliveries lost, nothing but complaints. On top of that, it's been months since I last joined the other guys for a Friday evening drink. People at the office were starting to ask questions, they were wondering if I had a secret girlfriend.
If only they knew.
It would have been all right if I'd just had the one drink, but one became two became three and the train was delayed so now... I might be late.
I fumble with the key, dropping it once before finally opening my front door. I step inside my apartment and before the door has even closed I am in the bedroom. I throw my jacket on to the bed followed by my tie then the rest of my clothes. The veneer of the smart, successful young sales executive is quickly stripped away to reveal the desperate, naked male that is the real me. I grab the toy bag from under the bed and rush back into the hallway.
First out of the bag is the alarm clock. I check it's correctly set and wound up properly - I use an old-fashioned clock in case of a power cut. The alarm is set for nine PM as always. I place it to one side, not too far away. It'll soon become difficult for me to hear much.
The clock is already showing one minute to eight. I'm going to be late - please don't let her come tonight. No, no, I didn't mean that. Please let her come tonight but just not yet, not this early.
Next comes the soft plastic sheath. I slip this over my cock and lace it up firmly. Inside it is lined with many blunt but effective teeth. Any erection will be painful. Some nights I am so excited that I have trouble putting it on. Tonight my only thought is fear and my cock is quite limp.
What am I scared of? Punishment? Pain? No, something far worse.
Abandonment.
---
I first met her about six months ago in a bondage chatroom on the net. We started exchanging messages casually and realised that we had a lot in common. We live in the same city so we met up one evening for a drink at a bar. We seemed to hit it off, so we met up again and then again. After a few weeks of our conversation skirting around the subject she asked if I wanted to play.
I didn't hesitate: "Yes... Mistress" I replied. The word felt strange in my mouth, I hadn't called her that before. I hoped that I hadn't been too forward and offended her.
The smile on her face told me I hadn't. She nodded. "Good," she said, "Here's how it works."
I haven't seen her since.
---
I turn the toy bag upside down, letting the rest of the contents fall onto the floor. First I grab the ring of keys and place it carefully on the ground to my left. Then the second keyring which goes just to my right. Both hold the same keys, either set will be enough to release me. Better safe than sorry.
The steel ankle cuffs are cold and heavy as they snap around my bare flesh, the piece of chain between them just a few inches long. With the ankle cuffs in place and safely double locked I kneel in the hallway facing the front door. Next the leather wrist cuffs are locked on - I use lockable leather cuffs because it's difficult to double lock handcuffs behind your back. It can also be near impossible to get out of handcuffs on your own and most nights I have to free myself.
Now I pick up the thick black leather hood. I had wanted to use a gag, but she wouldn't let me. She said that gagging yourself when alone is too dangerous, she didn't want me to choke to death. So we compromised on this hood. It's so thick and padded that it feels restrictive and makes it difficult for me to hear anything - that's another reason for an old-fashioned, loud alarm clock. There are no eye holes, just wide nose and mouth holes for breathing.
A final check that everything's set up properly. One keyring on the floor to the left, the other to the right. The clock is in place, alarm set - and it's showing five past eight. Five minutes late - I've been lucky.
I quickly pull on the hood and lace it up tightly. That done I put my hands behind my back. I loop a short length of chain through the D-ring on one wrist cuff, around the chain of my ankle cuffs then back up through the other wrist D-ring. I thread a padlock through the two ends of the chain and click it shut.
Now I wait.
---
The rules she had told me were simple. Brilliantly simple. First I had to give her my spare apartment keys. I hesitated for a second, but if you're going to play with someone then trust is essential and I'd known her long enough to trust her.
Then, she told me, every night after that I was to bind myself in the agreed position by no later than eight in the evening. She might or might not come over to play, depending on her mood. She might come over every night - or ignore me for a month. I'd never know and we'd have no other contact. No phone calls, no email, no meeting for a drink. Just me spending every night waiting and hoping.
I agreed, this time without hesitation.
---
How long has it been? About ten minutes I think. My knees and legs are beginning to ache a little, they always do. So I carefully lay myself down onto the floor. The first time I did this I was worried that I might be breaking the rules. However the apartment is quiet and even with the hood in place I can still just about hear the key in the lock when she arrives. So I have time to scrabble back up into position. The rules don't actually say that I have to be kneeling, however I know she likes it that way and I want to encourage her to come play with me as often as possible.
The beer is beginning to work its way through my system, I couldn't risk taking the time to do anything about it. I simply couldn't risk being late. Why not? Because there's one more thing about our arrangement.
---
She'd had a smile on her face as she said: "There's one more thing."
I waited, wondering what torture she had in store. A chastity belt? Piercings? Extreme pain? Whatever it was I was willing to give it a go.
"If I ever come over and you're not there, or not ready, then I leave immediately, our arrangement is cancelled and you will never hear from me again."
Was that it? I'd been expecting something much worse. All she was saying was that I had to play by the rules or the game was over. What was the problem with that? I agreed eagerly.
I hadn't realised quite how clever she was, much power over me that one little rule would give her.
Even if she ignores me for weeks on end I will still be bound and kneeling for an hour every night, waiting and hoping that she will come. I won't miss a single night - I couldn't bear to lose her forever.
The worst thing that could happen in my life, the thing that gives me nightmares, is that I am late home and she comes and goes before I arrive. Then I wouldn't even know that I'd lost her and would spend the rest of my life waiting, bound every night hoping for something that would never happen.
So I am totally in her power, thinking always of her, the rest of my life a poor second. She controls me absolutely without even having to remember that I exist.
----
What? What was that?
I jerk upright, disoriented for a second as my body automatically pulls against my bonds.
Asleep - I'd fallen asleep. Damn. Damn, damn, damn. What was it that woke me? Was there a sound?
How could I have been so stupid as to fall asleep? I shake my head, trying to remember whether there was any sound. Has the alarm gone off? I can always hear it through the hood, but I'd never been asleep before.
What time is it? Half past eight? Half past nine? Midnight? There's no way to tell.
How long do I wait here, naked and bound in my own hallway, until I decide that I missed the alarm? And how will I know how long I've been here? In the sensory deprivation beneath the hood time is impossible to judge. At what point do I take the risk and release myself - only to face the prospect of seeing her walk through the door at the very moment I remove the hood.
Or do I play safe and stay bound and naked until I hear the morning traffic outside.
As if there is any real choice. The risk of losing her outweighs all other considerations. I groan quietly and prepare for what might be a long night.
---
The first evening after we'd made our agreement I was more excited than I can ever remember. I had all the toys ready, checked and double checked, hours in advance. By ten to eight I was already stripped, bound and waiting, convinced that she'd be coming soon.
When the alarm clock rang at nine I was so disappointed I almost cried. Yet at the same time I found the denial exciting, knowing that I had spent an hour naked and bound in my own hallway for no other reason than that she wanted it. Knowing that she could decide to use me or ignore me on a whim. Feeling the power she now held over me.
She did come the next night, though she left me kneeling there waiting for a long time before she arrived. The moment I'd heard the key in the door my cock had stiffened and I felt the pain as the studs bit in. I'd heard her enter and the door close. She'd said nothing, just walked round me. Was it really her? Of course. Who else had a key to my apartment?
"Yes," she'd said, as if reading my mind, "It is me. And I'm ready for some fun."
Fun she had, as did I. Nothing too heavy, just some bondage, teasing and the occasional slap of leather across my ass to remind me who was boss. As if I could forget.
She left my hood on all the time, not deeming me worthy to see her face again.
That became the routine. Every night at eight in the evening I would be ready. Sometimes she came and played with me several nights in a row, sometimes I was left alone for a week or even longer. Those were bad weeks.
---
The alarm! It's nine o'clock!
Mixed emotions fill my mind. On the one hand I am relieved that I didn't miss the alarm, that I know the time and can now release myself. On the other hand I am bitterly disappointed that she didn't come.
I reach down for the keys. Where are they? I feel around with my hands but can't find the keyring. I must have become disoriented whilst asleep. No problem, that's why I have a spare set. I feel for the wall, run my fingers along to the corner and down. I always put one set of keys exactly here so that I can find them with the hood on.
Except that they're not there.
I start to scrabble around more urgently. They must be here. Did I somehow kick them away? They can't be far.
I hunt for the keys for a few minutes, getting more worried by the second. Then I freeze as I hear a chuckle.
"Looking for these?" she says playfully, and I hear a faint jingling sound by my left ear. "Or these". She jingles the other keyring by my right ear.
"You were asleep when I arrived," she says, her voice no longer playful but icy. "I find that rather insulting. You need to be taught some respect."
I cry out automatically as I feel the sting of leather against my buttocks.
"Aren't I interesting enough for you?" Another sting, harder this time. "Our little game too boring? Well I can fix that. So far you've only felt my nice side. I hope you got a good nap because you won't be getting much sleep for a while. You'll be phoning in sick this week."
I yell out in pain as something strikes my balls.
Beneath the hood there are tears in my eyes, but I'm also smiling.
It's going to be a great week.
'
Hank, go back and review what was written in the original post. I chose words designed to speak to not just your conscious mind but your subconscious as well. Read it slowly and think about the phrases. The pattern I used in this is something similar to what I use when I'm framing the body of some hypnosis sessions. There wasn't a formal induction or a deepener, but nonetheless the words are powerful because they were deliberately written to elicit (or suggest) a response.
It's somewhat difficult to explain in a few short sentences, but if you understand the basics of hypnosis, I think you'll start noticing language patterns. It's not hard (I used that word 2-3 times in this post and none of those uses were in reference to your anatomy. My guess would be that your subconscious mind still picked that up because you've been conditioned (as have we all) to at least *some* of the time associate hard with arousal. Coupling that with the nature of the post, your mind drew your own conclusions as to what you wanted those words to mean.
If you haven't already, consider going to my website and listening to the "Kidnapped by a Domme - Prequel". It's told in "story" format and begins with a lot of language that people associate with hypnosis. Since you know you're there for the purpose of being hypnotized, your subconscious picks up on the duality of the terms and you slip down. Once your focus is solely on the story, the language is presented in such a way that you are able to effortlessly imagine it is real - vividly... erotically... deliciously real.
I forgot to add.. yes, of course this is a tease, but it's a tease conducted on two levels. There are those who read my words who have never experienced one of my hypnosis sessions. I'm guessing some found it erotic, some knew beyond a doubt what I was doing and were still excited by it.
However, I'd like to point out that this post was peppered with phrases I have used in various hypnosis MP3s... short little phrases that elicit a very strong response in those who have experienced this very gentle hypnotic conditioning. I would guess their response was far more intense than those in the first group.
People who say they can't understand the appeal of erotic/FemDom hypnosis and say they would feel cheated by its use have clearly never experienced it on either side of the coin. As a Domme, I've known the pleasure of many "typical" BDSM activities and I've also experienced this. Both are unquestionably wonderful, but.. to know that I can sit all the way across the room and simply use words to bring him to complete ejaculation without ever touching him or without him touching himself - WHEW. Well, *I* certainly don't feel cheated and I assure you - evidence says neither does he.