Day 3 - Night

This is our last night together. 

He will catch a late morning flight back east and that will be the end of it. 

I am sad.  I know my mood isn't light and I am trying very hard to lift it, but I'm not doing a very good job. 

Maybe he senses it.  He must. 

He sees right through me.

We get to the hotel and lounge for a bit.  It's a very nice hotel - the decor is crisp, clean and urban. 

After awhile he has me undress.  I am still wearing the zip tie cuffs from the day before.  Even completely undressed, I don't feel naked.  I play with them while he slowly unpacks the play bag, examining each item, turning things over in his hand as if thinking up new and cruel uses for them.

He takes one of the hooks and places it over the bathroom door.  He removes a zip tie and threads it between both cuffs on my wrists. 

I am led to the bathroom door and hung on the hook.  My feet touch the floor, but when my legs are spread apart, the pull on my arms is uncomfortable.  The zip ties almost feel too tight now.  Wasn't it just moments before that they were objects I found comforting?

The mask comes out and is placed over my head.  He carefully adjusts it, smoothing it over my eyes and clucks softly.  He whispers near my ear that he doesn't think it blinds me enough.  I assure him that I  keep my eyes closed when wearing it.  I don't like the mask, or rather, I don't like sight being taken away from me.  But looking back on the play, I think I prefer it now to seeing everything.

Clothespins are placed on my nipples.  He isn't easing them on any longer.  He opens them wide, and then he lets go, and they snap down on my flesh.  The pain makes white spots appear behind my eyelids.

He leaves me.  I hear him walking around the room and then the door opens and shuts.  I wait for a moment, quieting my breath and trying to be still, to hear if maybe he is still in the room, but I  know better.  Plus, my arms are so close to my ears that they block some sound and I hear the thump of my heart beating and blood pumping more than anything else. 

I say something.  It is said quietly, but clearly.  If he is actually in the room he would be able to hear it, and it would be something just between us.  But as he isn't there, it is an affirmation to myself and I will never tell him what is said.

After a while, he comes back.  He says nothing about his absence.

He stands close to me on my left and then it starts.  A hand lands first on one side of my ass, then the other.  He hits hard.  There is no build up tonight.  It is full on pain. 

The bridle straps are next.  He has them doubled and knotted at the end for a handle, and four straps act as the whip.  The first blow lands in the small of my back - once, then twice.  My legs get his attention for a bit before he stops and gathers my hair to one side and tucks it between my neck and arm.  He starts to beat my shoulders. 

I am grasping at the door hook at this point, as if holding on tightly will transfer strength from the metal into my body.  I am still, though, and let the blows land with minimal movement and noise from me.  My chest starts to heave and I am quietly crying.  Not from the pain, though, but from where my head is.  I'm floating.  I'm above everything and beyond the pain.  It is registering, just on a different level than I'm at. 

Subspace.

He stops.

I hear the clink of the votives and the flick of a lighter.  I shiver in anticipation.  He stands behind me.  And slowly starts to dribble wax down my back.  This lasts long enough for the melted wax to build up and he starts to pour it - the wax burning as it hits and streams down my skin. 

He reaches between my legs and he moans.  I am wet - very wet.  I hear him undress and he presses his body against mine and I push back into him.  His hand is between my legs again, his fingers inside me. 

He moves to the play bag and hurriedly goes through it and tells me that someone forgot to pack the scissors.  "No.   No, they're in the outside pocket," I tell him.

He comes back to me and cuts off the middle tie and leads me over to the foot of the bed where I kneel.  My hands are raised up to him and he starts to cut off the ties that cuff my wrists.  I panic and plead with him not to, grasping for the tie that has just fallen off, and holding my other hand behind my back, away from him. 

He shushes me and tells me he will replace them later.

He lays me on the bed and enters me.

After, he takes me into the bathroom and he puts me under the warm shower, climbing in behind me.  He holds me to him and we just stand under the water.  It is relaxing.  He cleans the wax off my back and then towels me off.  Wrapping a robe around me, he guides me out and tucks me into bed, holding me again.

I fall asleep in his arms, surely with a smile on my face.

This is our last night together.