1. Pain and pleasure (la douleur exquise) Part 1


    Date: 6/18/2015, Categories: BDSM, Author: Sapiophile25, Rating: 3, Source: LushStories

    his corporate accoutrement, he appeared as if out of nowhere. He greeted me politely, if not coolly. I couldn’t help but notice that his cherubim face jarred with the rest of his presence and demeanour. It was confusing. It only served to make him psychotic in my eyes, as if it were perfectly plausible, nay natural, to expect a moment of kindness immediately followed by a moment of utmost cruelty, exquisite yet frightening cruelty, from that figure that loomed over me. Anything else wouldn’t have made sense. Only because I can just make sense of it now, he lulled me into a false sense of security as we sipped coffee and spoke about the mundanities of life. Between us was a square-shaped table and his propensity to speak about everything in a calm, composed manner. I couldn’t concentrate. I found myself confused at the tedium of our small talk. I now wonder whether my ennui arose from the false feeling that I was leading our encounter, that I had slipped into my dominant skin, out of habit. How deliciously misguided I was. And then something lurked in his cyan-blue eyes, not beneath them for I could never hope nor want to reach his core, the more I stared into them. I didn’t realise it at the time but I had been ensnared in his trap right then and there. I had ignorantly, yet willfully, fallen into his gossamer. Mesmerised. Never at the beginning and middle of our encounter did he let on that he was in control. Its success was in my complete obliviousness and delusion. ...
    Seamless, graceful entrapment. We began our walk in the park, which would have been disappointingly romantic were it not for the ominous overcast sky. Though he was 6 feet tall, I wished I hadn’t worn my platform shoes. I wanted to feel ever so small in his presence. The smaller, frailer, the better. My cropped jumper, which stopped fitting me a month ago, kept slipping off at the shoulder, revealing more skin. He had noticed. I had stupidly thought, at first, that it was a seductive move. Seduction was beside the point. Now I am convinced that I enjoyed that exhibition because it made me feel all the more vulnerable. Our walk and the length of it began to verge on the ridiculous as we circled the park multiple times. A metaphor, I couldn’t help but notice, to my numerous wanderings in my labyrinthine mind. It was aimless from an outsider’s perspective, but the point was to keep walking, to keep falling, underneath that overcast sky. As I tried to keep up with my Master’s pace, my head was swarming. Swarming with questions, thoughts, scenarios, and rebuffs. It all started when, at the sudden desire to take him in physically through my mouth, I had entertained the thought then accepted that I could never be the one to initiate the kiss. I wanted to kiss him, just as I want anything and everything in my day-to-day life. I desired him to kiss me. He took his time. I was befuddled by my absolute conviction that I could never kiss him first, that I was sure to be rejected. Whence this ...
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