Sight and speech weren't permitted. Coherent thought had fled, given over to wave after wave of unbearable bucking pleasure, not marred, but enhanced by the cuffs at wrist and ankle, which held him against the tide.
Movement came like the dawn of a new epoch, revealing a hollow, still place where once all was pressure and motion.
He was bathed, dried, dressed for bed, his thirst quenched.
Strong arms held him tight, hot breath at his ear.
His single nod was answer enough, to the question asked... before.
Then, the first words in forever, the hoped-for "Good Boy".
***
One hundred words exactly, counting contractions as two.
Your thoughts?
Are you Mine? (a drabble)
- sleeptight
- Unfettered Newbie
- Posts: 14
- Joined: 09 Dec 2012, 01:10
Are you Mine? (a drabble)
Make me. Please.