Cruel to be kind

Fingertips brushing lightly across soft, smooth skin, the lightest caress of warm breath against the back of her neck bringing a gasp from her lips as her body responds against her conscious wishes. She fights the growing feelings of desire, lust as his strong hands manipulate her slender form. Each touch jolts her like an electric shock as her senses are heightened by her position, wrists bound tightly with hemp rope, arms pulled taut above her head connected to an iron ring fixed deep into the masonry of the ceiling arch. Another length of rope binds her legs from knee to ankle, securing her, hoisted onto the tips of her toes, every muscle stretched, aching.

She senses his movement, the soft band of padded silk covering her eyes making her hyper aware of the movement of the air as he changes position, the sound of his breath, the slight rasp of a throat abused by years of cigarettes and bourbon whisky. The harsh bristles of his three day growth of beard sharp against her skin as he leans close, kissing each vertebra along the length of her spine. A sigh escapes her involuntarily, then a shudder as he chuckles softly, the sound diminishing as he pulls slowly away. A tear runs down her cheek as the door shuts behind him leaving her alone again….


About Autistic writing

Im 46, autistic and vocal about it, a specialist autism mentor in higher education, embarking on my MEd in adult autism, autistic advocate and campaigner, writer and co-founder of asP - the autism strategy partnership #differentnotdamaged #askaboutasP

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