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Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Adult · #2002035
A gift is given but there are rules to follow if it is opened. Sensual, no sex.
I don’t know when the change in relationship came. I can’t recall the precise moment that he tugged the carpet out from beneath my feet, leaving me on my knees. Maybe that was what he intended all along. Instead of a spontaneous moment, a driving home of reality, instead there was a slow but steady, sweet, seeping in. Before I knew it, he had filled me, completed me, filled each of those little empty places with his presence. As I was surrendering without knowing and becoming whole without knowing I had become broken, the world continued to spin.

Now, we are together. Together in a way that I cannot explain to everyone. Unified, we fit together like perfect puzzle pieces. I realized just how much this changed me, the night he sent me to the party.

He dressed me. The box arrived and upon it’s arrival, I had no thought of it being actual clothing. Albeit, skimpy, it was real clothing and not lingerie. Setting it down on the bed, I heard the door to the bathroom open. Without turning, I spoke, running my fingers over the expensive box. It...smelled… expensive. Something was telling in the fine paper wrapping and the silken script. For all I know they might even dab perfume on the fabric to achieve this effect. Whatever their recipe, it’s divine and my insatiable curiosity wanted to know what was inside the box. Because...whatever it was, it was going to be wonderful.

“Can I open it?” I traced my fingers along the trail of ribbon, imagining my wrists tied in the deep crimson length of fabric.

“Of course, kitten.” He murmured, tugging a t-shirt on and taking a seat behind me on the bed. From the corner of my eye, I could see his hand as he propped himself up on the bed and leaned forward.

I smiled, feeling his breath as he leaned forward and nuzzled against my neck and shoulder. Often, he insisted that I wear my hair up, because he so enjoyed that particular bit of flesh. He k new it sent sparks of desire down to that between place until my toes curled and I writhed.

Placing my hand on the ribbon, I was ready to pull it, when his hand lighted atop mine, killing the motion. I inhaled, turning my head to see his profile, intimately close. My breath caught in my throat as he spoke. He didn't have to raise his voice but I had seen it, during one incident in particular, and it was terrifying.

“Before you open it, know there is one rule. If you open the box, you must go through with the rules that come with the present that is inside.” He murmured, nudging my head up and nipping hard at my pulse.

My fingers tightened on the ribbon and his hand curled a fraction tighter around my digits. Reaching up, he wrapped an arm around my body, curling his fingers with care around my throat. I felt his fingers direct me, turning my gaze down to the box.

“Do you understand?”

Swallowing, I nodded and pulled the ribbon...
© Copyright 2014 S. Wynterbourne (wynterwolf at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2002035-The-Ribbon