My wrists, tied.
My eyes, covered.
My mouth, controlled.
My head, clouded.
My body, tense.
My wrists, bound above my head.
My eyes, blinded so completely.
My mouth, stopped from making any articulate sound.
My head, filled with nothing but noise.
My body, shaking with the strain of my position.
My wrists, entwined in silk, and hung from a hook so very high above me.
My eyes, sightless, and long since rolled up into my head with the effort of trying to see.
My mouth, drooling around the gag that only barely manages to stop my whimpers.
My head, usually my reliable weapon, slowly emptied of any ability to think or reason.
My body, reacting in sympathy to each and every sound I hear.
My wrists, chafed and possibly bleeding, but it's impossible to tell. I cannot feel my hands any longer.
My eyes, staring into the nothingness that is my despair still occasionally dart towards some perceived yet non-existent light. I hallucinate from time to time.
My mouth, which should be dry from all the efforts I have made to suck in air past the gag, is instead filled with my saliva and the taste of silicon. I wish I had never mentioned the gag.
My head, spinning with every breath, for I have been told that my ability to reason will leave me more and more quickly with each gasp. I can't remember why though.
My body, betraying me time and time again as I listen to the sounds from the nearby bed. I yearn for release.
My wrists, so far above my head, pulled tight but not so tight that my elbows lock, and my useless hands begin to tremble uncontrollably. I can't remember how long they have been held above my head. I can't remember what it feels like to have my wrists unbound, my hands dangling at my sides.
My eyes, connected so intimately to my despair, leak tears that I try to fight back. I can't afford to sob. I can't afford to cry now of all times.
My mouth, betraying me and listening to my eyes, as the tears fall and I begin to sob around the gag. I choke on my emotion as I continue to cry, nose now running and breath coming in hysterical gasps.
My head, searching desperately for a way out of this! I know I have been told a way to escape, I know I have been given a command, some action that will end this, but I cannot remember and the more I gasp for air the more my memory fails.
My body, dancing on its tiptoes, fighting to fling itself onto the bed and the occupents thereof. All my muscles tensing, all my nerves firing, all my most private places exposed in the most intimate way.
My wrists, dangling me from the hook like a fish on a line, feeling now like they belong to someone else. I dance on my toes, trying to ease the stress, but they are so numb that I can't be sure that I've accomplished anything. My hands are together like I am praying, I think to myself. Maybe I am supposed to pray for a way out of this?
My eyes, always searching, suddenly see light bloom in the darkness. Is it a person? An angel come to save me? No, just a swirling fractal of color, centered on my forehead and diving for me with increasing speed as I find that I am suddenly obsessed with its glow.
My mouth, stretched past its normal grin, yearns to cry for help, to sing a spell, to chant a prayer, anything that can end this. I am suddenly positive that whatever I have been commanded to do centers around my mouth, but how can I do anything when I cannot speak?
My head, even though it is still befogged and becalmed, seems to find a moment of clarity. The thing I am supposed to do, the thing that I can't do with my mouth, if I can't do it with my mouth then I will need to find some other way of doing it, if only I could think of what that thing might be!
My body, twisting now with passion. The occupents of the bed are stroking my skin with their sounds, their moans and creaks and grunts and cries. I can hear the bed move under them, I can hear the slash of the crop as it moves through the air and the slap as it hits bare skin. I feel my pussy grow wet, feel my juices slowly slide down my thighs, and suddenly, somehow, know that my freedom is near to be had.
My wrists, bound in supplication. My positioning my own choice, my offering of my self to my Mistress. I asked for this, no, I begged for this, describing how the pain and humiliation would ultimately make me feel more worthy of being hers.
My eyes, bound in blindness. I chose to have this eternity in darkness so that I would know what it would be like without her, so that when she chose to release me I would truly appreciate the sight of her beautiful form.
My mouth, bound in silence. I could not allow myself to jeopardize my gift with ignomious pleas and cries for freedom. I asked for this, so that I would never be able to change my answer when she asked me was I sure?
My head, bound in ignorance. The one enemy that could stand between me and this glorious gesture that I wanted to make. I had to give up my will and my reason to show that I was truly willing to do anything for her.
My body, bound in temptation. Every move I make a mirror of the actions that I so wish to be a part of, every twinge and twitch, every jolt and jitter, every unrequited moment a sacrament to her and only her. My realization frees me.
My body. Strung with fire and longing, hearing the climax of my Mistress and her servant, my lover, I am pushed over the edge and cum hopelessly, full weight hanging from my wrists as I writhe in painful ecstasy.
My head. Blank again, but with need and release, spinning from the pleasure and gray around the edges from the pain.
My mouth. Crying praises for my Mistress through the gag, ululating cries to her glory.
My eyes. Still trapped in darkness, still staring blindly at the glow in the center of my vision that I know to be her light.
My wrists. Lifted gently from the hook as I tremble in reaction. Lovingly rubbed while the sensation comes back to my hands. Smoothed with aloe and gently kissed.
I have been the perfect sacrifice, and now it is time for my reward.
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