By Ginny Sophomore
She was a bored nurse when she decided to get on the app and more like meet up and greet up. After a few attempts at finding herself a suitable partner, she gave herself up to two of a kind of the absolute opposites in nature and in what they expected from a relationship.
One was the meek kind – the docile. He was a handyman. In fact he told her on the very onset that he would do anything and everything she wanted of him. At your service, mam! I am for now your humble servant! And he did every chore in the house, performing every activity to her utmost satisfaction, stark naked! What a fanciful idea! She had never known anyone like him. It was unbelievable, this satisfaction he found in his fantasy, giving her untold fulfilment.
She believed this was his way of de-stressing from having been told to do the bidding of others, cloistered. Though that too would be yet another’s fantasy. No doubt.
Her other meet/mate was a man of the military who came to her demanding absolute secrecy and that she wear his ankle cuffs, which he had, all ready and polished, until death do them part!! The male Dominatrix. She humbly obeyed! Yes, Sir, at your command!
This perfect mismatch unraveled in to the dark hours. Was she ever diagnosed for Bi-polar, that too she was. Though her doctors did not prepare her for future eventualities 😬
She would have to crawl all over the place having been relieved of the use of her feet. He would be cracking his wand of a whip around, to the strains of White Rabbit belted out by Jefferson Airplane, on his phone, submitting in the end.
The next day his polar opposite would arrive with a cage in which he would entrap his vital statistix! She was to keep the key to his cage, in safe custody, strung around her neck on her dog collar necklace.
This so met the needs of her steampunk desires. It was unbelievable, this perfect nastiness. Almost obscene. It was not possible to pick between the two of them. Neither did the one know of the other.
These times of bondage brought forth a torrent of memories for her who remembered having got someone to knit her a sock for the vitals of her lover at the time. A part from being a vital part of winter time fantasy, the cock sock kept them both tightly knit to each other 😝.
It gave her stitches just thinking about it. She had kept the sock with her long after he had left the relationship, hung in her cupboard, where it remained. She hoped it would give her luck, by bringing her the most suitable partner to her doorstep. Since he didn’t materialise, she had gotten rid of it and she couldn’t remember how.
Life was forgiving and she found not one but two suitors that met her voluminous needs of all of voluptuity.
She was blessed with continuity – when the birdie was out of the trappings as it were, she had grabbed it in her left hand and drawn a face upon it with a very bold marker! Now that would take some time before it disappeared wouldn’t it!
Somehow, in a mad twist of events, the key to the cage got twisted in the key to the anklets, let’s call them, and for the love of her brains, she couldn’t work out which was which, neither was he able to figure it out!
Embroiled in this imbroglio they twisted and turned in a heap on the bed and now dropping out of the bed and right down and getting dirty and stuck in a figure of heap they moaned and groaned for the missing key had driven them to heights they’d never been to ever before. Such was the fire that consumed them.
Cage, let’s call him that, had made a rollicking risotto with a flare to it and he had laid the table with candelabra and all leaving her minus her bra to grope after he’d left to sit herself down with dominatrix to this sumptuous meal par excellence.
With greed that had over come her in the twisted ecstasy and in the slurp of her tongue he fed her the copious spoonfuls of this delectable delight to the fancy and fantasy of them both.
So for more! She walloped it leaving him none the wiser but to be utterly satiated in having watched her do so and in that all encompassing embrace that left nothing to want.
The take of the missing keys ensued.
A tangled heap of contorted humanity lay on the floor. Twist twist twist turn turn twist twist and bam the heap was disentangled.
Now for the keys could they have escaped turning in to piano keys?? He’s got to go soon on his beat. She needed to have herself unlocked. Just like that she lifted a cushion and there they were, the two keys on her dog collar chain.
Out went Dominatrix and in came her will to live on until the next time when merriment provoked by madness enthralls.
