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He was waiting for me.

Legs sleeved and bound in the leather sack. Hands wrapped in leather. A padded hood tightened and buckled around his head, eyes and ears blacked out, a grommet to breathe through. His torso, inked but otherwise bare. I watched his stomach undulate with breath and pictured myself licking the edges of his ribcage.

I knew he knew I was there. Waiting, hyper-attentive, he’d felt the vibrations of the door opening, the breeze of my entrance, my hunger surely palpable as I looked at this gift he’d made of himself. For me.

I didn’t touch him. I didn’t speak.

Instead, I busied myself about the studio, tidying up. I wanted him to feel helplessly abandoned, craving acknowledgment, touch. In the next room, I shed my clothes to shower and wondered if he’d hear the water running through the sensory deprivation hood and imagine me naked and wet. Once clean, I rubbed my skin with oil and slid into a silky black skirt and camisole.

Standing next to the bed, I reached for his hand and his grateful fingers struggled against the mitts to wrap around mine. Straps were added to keep him still. I could see his heart beating madly against its cage of bones, muscle, and skin. I covered his chest with a steaming hot towel, lathered my hands and began shaving him, the hot water trickling like cloudy tears down his sides. Once his chest and stomach were smooth, I stripped off the leg sack, exposing his sex.

Running my fingernail along the underside of his hard cock, I informed him, “Now that you have my attention, I’ll tell you what I’m going to do with you. I’m going to fill your ass with the largest electric plug I have, then turn up the juice until you scream. Once you start screaming, I’m going to replace the padded hood with my latex suffocation hood, and then, to keep things interesting, I’ll put the Venus on your cock.”

I rolled his body onto the backboard and suspended him slightly above the table with a combination of hoists and springs. The large plug slid in easily and I envisioned one day giving him my fist, to feel his heart beat from the inside. I shuddered with the pleasures of his possibilities.

Once he was up to 99 on the ErosTek and barely moaning, I amped up the power input. At HI-60, the screams began. He writhed against the bindings, making the backboard swing and dip. My sadism whetted, I cut a square of expanding sponge and put it in his mouth, drooling copiously onto it to help it grow faster while I covered his mouth with duct tape. Then came the hood: a thin sheath of translucent latex that tightened around the throat but ballooned over the head. Two tiny holes near the nose were the only sources of oxygen. As he groaned and snorted, the hood expanded and collapsed with his panicked exhalations and greedy inhalations, while the plug slammed jolts of electricity deep into his ass.

Good.

I turned on the Venus and positioned the receiver over his cock, letting its slow suction draw it inside. I imagined crawling on top of him and taking him inside me instead, wrapping my hands around his throat for leverage and strangling him at both ends until I was breathless.

Instead the Venus wrapped around his shaft, drawing it in and expelling it. I turned up the juice even higher on the ErosTek and my eyes rolled back ecstatically at his muffled screams. The hood’s rise and fall started to lose its rhythm as his breathing got ragged and desperate.

I’ll say it. I didn’t want it to stop. I wanted to see the hood collapse on his face and be still, all of him still, save his groin muscles spasming involuntarily in response to the senseless plug. I wanted to remove the hood and extract the gag and kiss his mouth to waking with a giant, squealing, willful gasp of air.

Afraid of myself, I turned up the Venus and turned down the ErosTek. He howled as his orgasm exploded almost immediately, racking his entire body with spasms that pressed the binding straps even deeper into his skin.

I removed the hood and looked gratefully into his wide open eyes.