Fetish is a funny word. When held in confidence, it is a secret no one can see outwardly and often takes unsuspecting partners by surprise. Some fetishes if worn on ones sleeve leave a person ridiculed, and punished by society. In any case, a fetish is merely a fantasy. And fantasy is what I cater to. Warning, it may get a little weird, a little taboo, and a little rough.
The darker the meeting the brighter the flame. When most people shy away from someone, I have to know why. It’s the mystery. It has gotten me into situations in the past that most women would regret. Trust is something I once offered freely. Now it is something I hold close to my chest. Until, you.
We had a wager on you, the mysterious figure dressed in black. What were you doing? Sitting in your car for so long? It’s a public park after all. My girlfriends and I were enjoying the fresh cool spring air, walking the hiking trail, letting our bodies be kissed by the sun. You were drenched in shadow, ball cap covering the only features that might have been determinable from this distance.
“Creepy.”One of my more outwardly blunt friends said. “He is just sitting in his car. Bet he is some weirdo that gets his jollies watching people.”
“What if he’s some rapist, or a flasher just waiting for his next victim.” said another.
I couldn’t help but show my disapproval. “Would you listen to yourselves? You sound like old women in a knitting circle. He could be any number of things from a guy on his lunch break, or an undercover cop, or an artist.”
Shooting them a look of disappointment, I began to walk toward the shade of the parking lot. Ignoring the “what is she doing?” and “Don’t, please just come back.” from my friends I approached your car.
Window already down, I could smell your cologne from three parking spots away. You never paused, never looked away from the glowing light of the tablet in your lap. Either you didn’t notice my approach, or simply didn’t care.
Only few feet away, I took a deep breath and put on my friendliest face. “Pardon me, but do you have the time?”
“Four females out on a sunny day and you mean to tell me none of you have a device on your person capable of discerning the time? Or am I to believe that you are incapable of coming up with a better ice breaker?” You say coldly, calmly, and without taking your eyes of your tablet.
“My battery died while we were hiking the nature trail, however if it is too much of an inconvenience to your work to take note of and relay the current hour to a lady suffering from time deprivation, I will gladly take my inquiry to another capable party.” I said with a hint of ironic sarcasm.
Turning your head to look at the female who dared give you a taste of your own style. The brim of your hat raised, the light caressed your face for the first time since you parked. The most intense eyes I had ever seen peered at me, piercing me from brains to bones.
“Well you are brazen, I like that. ” You grinned, half-crooked. “It happens to be three in the afternoon, and you are an intriguing woman.”
As you added the last line to your statement to moved the tablet from your lap to put it in your passenger seat. The most accurate digital artwork portrayal of the open nature in front of your windshield.
“Am I asked,As I tried to avert my eyes from your gaze.
” Most women would shy away from a stranger parked in a public place, you bravely approached without fear of who or what I might be. Why is that are you truly fearless or just naive?”
“I only fear that which I know can hurt me.” I answered. Trembling in your stare. Not with fear, but anticipation. The build up of curiosity, possibility of danger, all culminating in one over whelming urge to know the unknown.
“And you don’t think I am capable of inflicting pain?” Your eyes glimmered as you posed the question that even looking back now echoes deep within me.
“Every creature on the planet is capable of inflicting pain, but doesn’t hurt.” I responded without realizing completely what I had said.
“No, pain is physical. Physical is fixable, treatable and recoverable. Emotions hurt. Are you capable of emotionally hurting me? Most likely not, because to hurt me like that I would have to let you. And then, if you think about it I am not being hurt by you but by my own bad choices.”
“You are a philosopher? How interesting. What does your philosophy make of those whom enjoy inflicting pain for pleasure?” You ask in a student being gloated on by a teacher sort of way.
“If done properly, with the right tools and by steady hands a submissive could get both physical and emotional pleasure. It is an emotional release to give up control to another, to be free of responsibility, to be at another’s mercy, of your own free will and yet knowing that a mere safe word can pull you back from the brink of fantasy vs nightmare.”
“So you’ve been a submissive? Or just postulate ones response?”
The car door swung open and you stepped out to the days grace. Towering over my meek and tender form with your height and build being over shadowed by your attire. Dark and Gothic, like you walked out of a Evanessence concert.
“I have only, imagined such freedom. I have been in charge of everything my entire life.” I admitted again before realizing the words left my mouth.
Before My next thought could form a hand lightly caressed my face. Then another grabbed me at the hip. With a fiery glance from those intense eyes, I was pulled against you. Warmth, you put off heat, like a sun was hidden beneath your dark shirt.
The command was straight, plain. No hit of aggression or threat. Just a simple authority under lying in your tone. It took me over. Like the pull of the undertow, subtle but dangerous in its natural force.
My body responded as if on autopilot. My friends yelling for my attention faded from my head as if someone turning the volume down on the radio. Your lips touched mine with the same cool and collected manner in which you spoke. Until your teeth bit my bottom lip. Then fire blazed through me like a lightening bolt of passion. In that instant I was yours, a slave to your will, and you knew it.
Pushing me backward just enough to release the kiss, you commanded me again, “You are going to take this number, you will answer when I text you, and your phone will never go uncharged again.”
“Why do I get the feeling, I will be calling you master.”
“Because you are a smart girl.” You grinned again in a devilish way and handed me a pen to write my number.
Getting back into your car, your eyes pierced me again. “You have one hour to text me, I suggest you get moving. That phone isn’t going to charge itself and it’s a long hike to the other side of the park.”
With that, simple yet direct command you started your car and backed out of your parking place.