The Celt’s prompt this week is Implements of Torture
I stand in her living room, nude except for my harness and cock. On the coffee table next to me is an odd assortment of items laid out on her coffee table: a skirt and top, panty hose, heels, a matching set of lacy panties and bra, make-up, hair products, razor, â€¦ on display as if this were a museum exhibit on Femme paraphernalia. I stand, silent as ordered, feeling vulnerable in a way I havenâ€™t in a long while. She promised me a night Iâ€™d never forget and Iâ€™m starting to have a bad feeling about that promise. She gives me a kiss, gives my cock a squeeze and laughs at the puzzled, somewhat frightened expression on my face. Then she reaches down and picks up the razor, â€œCome with me, bad boy.â€
As she turns toward the bathroom, I feel a sudden panic overcome me. The items on the coffee table arenâ€™t just there on displayâ€¦ theyâ€™re meant to be implements of feminine torture, and Iâ€™m the canvas on which theyâ€™ll paint their horrific picture.
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