It's been awhile, but I'm so used to writing fiction from the submissive point of view that I thought I'd switch it up a bit and write from the female dominant point of view (Yes, I do have a large amount of that in me even though I don't talk about it much). It's just a small portion and is, in fact, all I have finished so far...

As I sat in the corner of the room, pondering my next move, I could almost feel your heartbeat in the air. A palpable sound (thump-thump thump-thump), it pulsed around me and jolted me back into the present moment and away from my thoughts.

I allowed my eyes to stray to your form, standing on tiptoes in the middle of the room, your arms straight above you and your back arched in an almost vulgar manner. The soft rubbing noise of the rope twisting and straining against your weight was soothing to me. My creative juices flowing, I pressed off against the chair and stalked toward you on black stiletto heels.

I could see your skin jump and flinch with every click of heel against hardwood floor. I walked slowly, then quickly, circling you like a caged tiger as your ears struggled to make sense of what your blindfolded eyes were unable to tell you. I could feel the panic rising again in you, your terror mixed with the scent of arousal on the air. It was a heady smell, a smell that set off a galaxy of reaction inside me.

I took a deep breath, my nostrils flaring as I attempted to intake as much of your musk as possible. My body came to rest inches from your back; I slowly slid my mouth towards your bare shoulder making as little noise as I could. I stood that way for a minute or so, my breath pressing against your shoulder as I listened to your tiny panting breaths rise and fall. I contemplated how to break this silence, my breath slowing to an almost sleeping rhythm. I needed it to be a stunning gesture, a motion that would foreshadow the rest of the evening. Flipping through the rolodex in my head, I decided quickly.

This entry was posted by Mellie, on Thursday, October 11, 2007.