Fantasies are hot.
I have a bunch.
It was already 9 o’clock by the time you arrived for your session.
You were perfectly punctual, having dreamed of this fantastical reprieve from your hectic life for what seemed like months now.
You certainly didn’t want to ruin your very first evening with a God by being tardy.
You knocked at the door, waited for a moment before being greeted by your Master, Patriarch Connor.
He looked amazing in black trousers, a white dress shirt and black tie held in place by a shiny steel tie clip, sleeves rolled up just before His elbows. His face was adorned with a neatly trimmed beard, his eyes twinkling with deviance that made your heart skip a few beats, his smile more than enough to make you tremble.
He ushered you inside, made you remove your shoes, and hang up your coat. He made you go to the bathroom, telling you He didn’t want any accidents on your part. You complied promptly and, once done, you joined him in the dungeon room.
The room was lit by a hundred candles, their soft light flickering and giving everything a dreamlike quality. Cabins flanked the room’s walls, each one adorned with various sexual paraphernalia: dildo & butt plugs of various shapes and sizes, whips, switches & nine-tailed foxes, vibrators, cuffs of all kinds, ropes, feathers, lingerie, slave outfits, harnesses, blindfolds, and collars.
At the center of the room was a flat cushioned table that could be raised vertically, complete with built-in leather restraints, and next to the table, fur-lined manacles hung down from the ceiling.
“On your knees when you’re ready, boy.”
His voice seemed to reverberate endlessly in your empty head forcing you to your knees before you could even think of obeying.
“Good. Now, I will blindfold you so that you won’t see what I’m going to do to you. It also just so happens that it will make all your other senses react a little more… delightfully.”
He walked behind you and wrapped the blindfold around your head, the soft polyester resting comfortably on your face.
“You’re in for a treat, and you’ll thank me later because you’re mouth is going to be remaining full with this ball gag. Open wide, loser boy.”
The cold gag entered your mouth, filling it instantly. You felt the gag straps tighten as He tied them around your head. You began to wonder just what He had in store for you today.
“Hold my hand and rise, I don’t want you tumbling over and hurting yourself: I’m the only one allowed to hurt you here. Good boy. Now let’s get those hands nice and bound up in my manacles.”
You felt the soft fur wrap tightly around your wrists and soon your knees began to quiver, the anticipation of what was to come next filling you with the most interesting kind of dread imaginable.
Once the manacles were on, He raised your hands into the air by pulling the chains in.
“Starting to feel helpless? I know how much you love feeling vulnerable and at the mercy of someone like me. Well now the clock’s started, and you’re mine to do as I please.”
As He spoke, He moved behind you and fetched something from one of the shelves you’d seen but what it was you could not guess.
“You must be wondering about what I’m going to do to you, what tools I’m going to use. Will I be whipping you or shall I be giving you a good paddling? Maybe I’ll be taking one of these candles and dripping wax on you… Or maybe I’ll just leave you tied up, wondering where I’ve gone to and when I’m going to return.”
You tried to speak but the gag made sure all you could do was moan. You could feel your saliva beginning to drip down your chin and it made you feel even weaker. He really did know how to push your buttons…
The feeling of something soft moving across your knuckles was enough to snap you back into reality, making you shake and move in your chains, the uncertainty of what was being done to you more than enough to leave you unsettled, yet you were somehow harder than a rock.
“What am I doing to you, you must be asking yourself. Well, I won’t be telling you, that’s for damn sure. A loser like you doesn’t deserve to know what’s being done to them. You will take what I give and thank me for it.”
The soft tickle moved from your knuckles and down your arm, stopping just short of your sensitive armpits.
“I wonder what would happen if I…”
You began to squirm and wriggle, your arms tugging at the chains impulsively. You moved your body around as best you could, trying the whole time to avoid this torment of torments, crying and sobbing through your gag.
“It’s so much fun to watch you wriggle around like the worm you are. And you’re just at the beginning of your wriggling…”
He dropped the soft feather that he’d been using and went with a much more hands-on approach. His hands weren’t nearly as soft as the feather had been but they were much more stimulating. You could no longer even think about resisting because his hands were making you dance like a marionette.
You were completely at the mercy of this sadistic tickler and you found yourself loving every damn minute of this torture.
“Time to give you a moment to breathe and relax, I wouldn’t want to break my new toy… yet,” He said, which you were barely able to hear over the sound of your own heavy breathing and your heartbeat thundering in your ears.
As your breathing slowed, you realized you were at peace. Some found this peace through meditation or yoga; you found it through torture. You were never quite like everyone else and to finally acknowledge and live it did you a world of wonders.
“Unfortunately, it seems we’ve already spent an hour together so our session must come to a close. Enjoy yourself, my little worm?”
You nodded enthusiastically while drool ran down your chin.
“Good. Same time next week?” He asked, his tone of voice indicating He already knew your answer.
And you knew that He did.
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