A year ago. It is an addiction
It began like any other game.
She had read his words. The heady mix of romance, ropes and respect. Of dominance, decadence and desire. Of longing, lust and leather. Of sex, service and submission. Of poetry, pain and pleasure.
It was an attractive, compelling and perhaps dangerous drug.
Yet she knew she could handle it. The geographic distance would keep her safe. The lack of a physical connection would be an antidote to its power. The absence of the carnal would diminish its dominion.
She placed the collar about her throat. She could feel the urgent pulse in her neck whispering a warning. She smiled bravely into the eye of the camera.
She could control it.
But now she aches. A deep, persistent hunger that cannot be satisfied by fingers or phallus.
The geographic distance has become her prison, the lack of physical connection is her torturer, the absence of…
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