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Power Transfer

Category: BDMS
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As ever, it began quietly. A look, an ‘accidentally’ raised hemline, stooping just too low allowing the valley of your breasts to cascade across my view as you brought my Rioja, but it built rapidly. I think it was twenty minutes ago that you abandoned all pretence of subtlety and reappeared in a little black dress.

I had to hide the smile behind a cough, but returned smartly to my book. You deserve to suffer slut. You always do.

And so the game was afoot. Standing in front of me you asked ever so politely if you could put some music on and upon my indifferent acquiescence stepped across the room to the player. I watched from behind my book as your exquisite calves, accentuated by three inch heels, carved through the room. Each step a precise beat echoed within my veins. You bent at the waist to turn the music on, framing the heart of your behind and carrying my eyes over your hips and down your elegant pins. Every move a perfectly calculated tactic within this conflict. As you turned my eyes dropped back to the page. But you knew I’d been watching you and smiled in that knowledge.

I sensed you move back in front of me and risked a glance down at the floor. The song was building and I could see from your feet that you were facing away from me. I knew that from now on you’d spend a lot of time like that or with your eyes closed, allowing me to enjoy the show without breaking the spell.

I’ve always been able to watch you. In fact nothing has ever held my attention quite like your shape drifting across my vision. You held your hands high and let your hourglass lead the show. Ten minutes of watching your shimmering hips would induce surrender in any man. Thinking now, I could never even state for certain their exact location. They induce a hallucinogenic trance in me and the movement blurs across the room as if a whirlpool pulling me inexorably towards them.

This continued for a while until that moment that you reached back and began to pull the zip of the dress down. One long languorous movement slowly revealing a v of flesh between the zip’s teeth, all the way to the beginning of that shadowy cleavage that signals the end of your back. A momentary pause, calculated for full effect, and then with a shimmy of your shoulders and hips the dress plummeted to your feet, leaving you in only your stockings and heels. An image of classic beauty in front of me. As if carved of marble. You turned towards me and I was instantly enthralled in my book again. The top line of the page would remain resolutely unread in front of my eyes from this point on.

I felt you step forward as the dancing became more personal. My eyes now unnecessary, redundant before your smell and touch. Skin brushed on skin as you moved over me. Your hands ran through my hair and along my cheeks. Your legs stretched across my lap opening your cunt to rub against me. The short gasps this brought forth from you adding to the raw assault on my senses that you had become. On and on my mind reeled as it tried to make sense of the information it was receiving. Your breasts traced the contours of me as you moved. This perfect storm broke through every barrier as quickly as my mind could erect them. Sweat rose on the back of my neck as I fought instinct. My fingers drummed out rhythms of my ever faster beating heart on the arm of the chair. Fighting, fighting. Resisting. I am in charge. You must wait. You deserve to wait. You need to suffer…not me. I’m…In…Charge………clinging on…

As your cheek runs up along mine my hand strikes out pinning your throat to the wall. The noise of the spilled wine glass shattering lost in the sudden thundering in your ears. Your eyes darting back and forth as shock and terror courses through you. Hands instantly clawing at my arm.

But as you catch the look in my eyes, everything drops in your mind. The upward curling corners of your mouth the only outward betrayal of the calmness enveloping you. You accept what is to come…

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