By Bondagegimp
Awakening
Walking through this garden gate has a special, almost symbolic impact on me. Sure, Bob’s property extends all the way to the street, but this area enclosed by bushes and a fence has been my world until now, a world in which Bob held me captive. Now I’m leaving it. Now I’m leaving Bob.
Oh Bob, why do you have to make it so hard for us? A few concessions would have been enough, and I would have stayed. But he’s completely uncompromising. And so contradictory! He wants me to stay, to submit to him, and yet at the same time, he’s not attracted to slaves who submit willingly. The two guys in the bar offered themselves to him, but that’s precisely why he didn’t want them. He wants to feel resistance, he wants to force, to subjugate. And yes, sometimes that turns me on too, I admit it. But just because I find some things arousing doesn’t mean I can simply give up my whole life. Does he really love me, or does he just want a plaything to satisfy his sexual desires?
Try as I might, all I could possibly see outside was mown grass. One by one, the doors to the cells opened. The guys in green pushed a gentleman’s head down. They kept us from hitting our heads as we shuffled, hunched, out of the cage. Thank you. The familiar face left. I wouldn’t see it again for hours. But my sense of time was gone. I had no watch. I had no phone. They were in my luggage, which was labeled “Lukas” on blue painters tape, in a clear plastic bag labeled “Lukas” on blue painters tape. Every rule I had seen, every request thus far, I had followed to the letter. I didn’t want to be a target. I needed to be good.