She drove along the leafy lane, looking carefully for the house number that she had received, and then just as she reached the end of the long bushy hedge, she saw it, standing out in white letters, beckoning her into the drive. Despite her qualms, the car seemed to turn without her willing it, and pulled up in the driveway. All was silent as she turned to engine off, and slowly opened the door and got out of the car. The only sound was the ticking of the hot engine as it cooled, which seemed to be keeping time with her heart, beating against her breast, letting her know that it was still there, and that it was controlling her moves, and not her brain.
She made her way along the front path, and pushed her way past the rose bushes, making her way to the front door, leaving a trail of faded petals in her wake. It was one of those houses that looked like it had been there forever, that had grown up with the trees around it, and that she thought had only still existed in child hood memories. She stood hesitantly in front of the door, its solid form trying to reassure her, but somehow it also felt that this was the door to a new chapter, and one that she was not sure she was able to write, let alone read. The faded blue paint had seen better days, but again this seemed to fit with how she thought it should be. She took hold of the tarnished brass knocker, and knocked once. It moved gently, and she realised then that it was open as she had been told it would be, and she pushed it further, smiling gently at her forgetfulness.
Ahead of her was the staircase, plain wood, and she could feel that many feet had trodden it before her, and sense that more would follow in her footsteps. She was not the first, and would not be the last, of that she was sure. Slowly, step by echoing footstep, she started to climb, knowing with every tread, that turning around and going back was that much harder. Every cell of her brain seemed to want her to turn round, but every inch of her body was screaming at her to keep going. As the stairs turned to the right, her eyes were drawn upwards to her destination, and she saw the cracked panels of an old oak door staring right back at her. The cracks seemed to smile knowingly back at her, as if they knew what was going though her mind.
With a final step, her feet took her on to the top step, and now she knew there was no going back. Unbidden, her hand reached out, and closed around the large round doorknob, and turned it slowly. The door opened soundlessly, and without any conscious decision, she found herself slowly stepping forward, making her way into the room, into the bedroom, where she had been told to wait.
The room was unexpectedly warm. In her imagination as she anticipated the meeting, she had imagined it would be colder, but she was glad of the warmth, and knew that it would feel warmer still in the hours to come. The curtains looked bright and new, and were pulled to, letting the sun force its way through to play on the ivory walls, casting the room into a gentle shade. In front of her was the only piece of furniture in the room, a pine framed double bed, freshly made, and looking innocent and welcoming, except for one thing. On the bed was a blindfold.
Hesitantly, but knowing that she was past the point of no return, she started to undress. One by one, she undid the buttons on the front of the dress, and slowly it opened, inch by inch, and she slipped it from her shoulders. The dress fell to the floor with barely a sound, and she stepped forward out of it, stepping closer to the bed. Then, she reached behind her, unclipped the bra. Slowly she removed the black strip of lace that was covering her breasts, and let it drop and join the dress. Her nipples stood out in front of her, betraying her excitement. There was one more thing to do, and she knew that she could not wait. She hooked her thumbs into the top of her pants, and pushed them down, letting gravity take over as they moved down her thighs, and with a whisper of lace, they joined the matching bra, leaving her standing naked and alone. And vulnerable.
She picked up the blindfold, knowing that the time had come, and placing it over her eyes; she gently eased the elastic over her hair, and felt it grip the back of her head. Her vision was now totally gone, but she felt her remaining senses heighten and take over, and as she stood there, she heard his steps slowly mounting the same stairs she had climbed to face her shame, slowly coming closer to her. It was time to surrender herself, time to relinquish control to him.
It was time to serve.
She felt his presence enter the room and at once she knew without needing to see or hear a word that this stripped everything away, way down to all that lay beneath to her deepest core. The fear and the desire which drove her forward, and the need to ride it was drawn from her inner soul. The surrender of herself to another, her submission to a power greater than herself even if only temporarily – these were all images tearing through her mind. She was in the place she had sought out via many different routes in her strange quests for sublimation. She knew this deeply and wordlessly, and therefore felt no shame in her desire.
She felt his hands on her body, running gently all over her, teasing and caressing, but still he did not say a word, and though she knew she should protest the words would not come to her lips. She knew that whatever would happen now, was meant to happen. Gently, he leaned her up against the cool wall and its cold touch sent a shiver down his back. His strong finger touched her forehead, and slowly he drew it down from her forehead to her lips, gently entering her moist open mouth. Not wanting him to stop, she found her heart was beating faster and her breathing was deep and hard. His finger slowly travelled to her neck and down to her eager left nipple, then across to the right. She could barely move , and as her insides melted she felt the brush of his open palm and fingers between her legs, moving slickly against her wetness.
Then she felt his strong hand closing around her own hand, taking hold of her hand like a gentle lover and he led her silently to the bed. Hesitantly, fearful that she would fall, she followed, and gently he laid her down, naked and exposed, and she felt the kiss of cotton on her skin. Silently she lay there, wondering what would come first, unable to see what his next move would be.
She was his - she was under his control.
