Feeling Good…(Bond part 1)

Oh freedom is mine
And I know how I feel

It’s a new dawn
It’s a new day
It’s a new life
For me

(Cliché alert)

“What a difference a day makes”

I am struggling to write this post.  There is so much I want to share about my experience with Mr. Bond.  I am different person today than I was yesterday.  I am changed.  Changed by this encounter.

In many ways, I am free.

Warning:  This post is long and in no way will do the evening the justice it deserves.

Disclaimer: This post may be too intense for some readers, especially those who do not subscribe to the lifestyle. Use caution before reading further.  You have been warned….

Here goes:

Waking up yesterday morning I was already high on adrenaline.  Almost drunk, but focused on preparing for the evening.  So anxious.  So excited.  So nervous.

So READY for Bond.

I arrived at the hotel just in time to get ready.  I meticulously unpacked my suitcase, hanging the dresses I brought in the closet.  I placed my toiletries on the bathroom counter.  I stocked the refrigerator with bottles of water.  I became familiar with my surroundings.

I texted Mr. Bond to let him know I had arrived and began to prepare myself for the evening.

It was nice to take a long shower, a rare treat for me with work and kids.

I readied myself.  Remember, he requested that I wear a dress, heels, red lips and toes.  No underwear.

I decided to break the rules right out of the gate, and I put on my favorite pair of lacy panties.

Nothing like a disobedient sub.

He instructed me to go to the bar and have a couple of drinks.  I complied.  The bar was almost empty.  I was really overdressed for such a place.  Nervous about what would happen next, I quickly drank the 3 Ketel One Cape Cods I ordered.

I received a text: “I am at the room”

He’s here….OMG

Me:  “Cashing out.  Be there in just a minute”

Bond: “Bring your drink with you.  Come now”

Of course the bartender was beyond slow, delaying me further.  Doesn’t she know I will get in trouble if I’m late???

I stepped off of the elevator and began walking towards the room.  It was a suite at the very end of a long hallway.  In front of the door stood Bond, watching me walk towards him.

Keep in mind, I had just consumed 3 (that is three, Roman numerals III) very strong drinks moments before.  Walking with purpose was a bit of a challenge.  But once I saw him, I was in the zone.

(And note, beside him was a large imposing, square black duffel bag….Pandora’s Box)

Here I come, Bond.  I am coming for you.

We exchanged friendly banter as I descended down the corridor.  I felt an instant connection.  He was as handsome as his photo and very friendly.  I immediately felt at ease.

I put the card in the door and as I opened it, Bond gave me a grin.

A sadistic grin.

He wrapped his arm around my throat and forced me into the room, careful not to allow my face to hit the wall.  He was behind me, pinning me to the wall.

His breath was warm in my ear.  His voice was direct as he whispered, “Don’t you ever fucking make me wait for you, little girl.  Do you understand me?”

I managed to muster an answer, “Yes.”

He pinned me harder to the wall, “Yes, what?”

I know better.  I was so shocked by the pinning, that I forgot my manners.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl”

We kissed.  He was an excellent kisser and I became comfortable again.  He surveyed my outfit to ensure I had followed instructions.

Oh crap…I had willfully disobeyed him.  It’s on.  I am in trouble.

“You look very nice tonight.  You are really a beautiful woman.”

“Thanks, Sir”

He kissed me again and reached up my dress.

I’m in for it now….

He discovered the panties.

“Why are you wearing panties?”

I decided in a flash not to tell him I’d intentionally worn them, fearing my punishment.

“I thought you wanted me to wear panties”

His voice was stern, “There is no, ‘I thought’ little girl.  You either understand your instructions or not.  You told me you understood them, did you not?”

“Yes, Sir.  I am sorry, Sir.”

He then bent me over the table and ripped them off, exposing my backside to him.  I knew what was coming next.

“You did something you weren’t supposed to do, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

His hand was swift and precise across my backside.  Followed by another and another.  All in the same place.

I cried out.  The sting was intense.

“You’ve taken your punishment like a good girl.  Remember, you must obey me.”  He turned me to face him.  My eyes were slightly welled-up from the sting of his hand.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you will obey me.”

“Sir, I will obey you.”  I peered into his kind eyes, trying to see if I could predict what was coming next.

“Good girl, now take off your dress.  Leave your heels on.”

I quickly complied.  As I was following orders, I caught a glimpse of the bag.  Pandora’s Box.  He saw me look at it and he walked over and unzipped it slowly before flinging it open.

“I’ve got lots of things in here for you.”

Oh shit.  Now I am nervous.

I stood in front of him.  Naked.  Vulnerable.  He could sense that I was uneasy.

He took my face in his hands and kissed me.  He then turned me around and guided my hands down on the coffee table.

Now I was really vulnerable.  Exposed to him.

He began rummaging through his box of tricks.  He clearly had an object in mind.

I tried to look back to see what he was doing.

“Turn around.  Keep your hands on the table.”

He’s on to me.  I better obey.

“How does if feel to be exposed to me like this?”  he asked.  I pondered my response.

“I feel vulnerable, Sir.”

“Good girl.  You have to be honest with me for me to push your limits.”

Limits?  What is coming next?

He rummaged some more.  I then heard him plug something in.  I heard the humming sound of a motor.

He rummaged again.  The suspense was exciting.

I heard something metal…but it didn’t sound like a knife, it sounded like keys.

Keys?  What would he do with keys?

Then I heard it…I couldn’t mistake for anything else.

It was the sound of a blade being opened.  He opened it and closed it.

Then he did it again.

Bond had a knife.  And he wasn’t afraid to use it.

He placed it on the coffee table in front of me.

Before I could even react to the knife, I felt his hand over mine.  He told me to get on my knees and face him.

He was sitting on the couch behind me and on my knees I turned to face him.

He took my hand and placed a leather cuff on it, fitting it snugly, but not too tight.  He then pulled out a small lock and secured the cuff to my wrist.

A lock?  Are you kidding me?

With careful detail, he repeated the ritual with my other wrist.  All the while making eye contact with me.

Facing him he explained the rules to me.

“I own you right now.  Do you understand that?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You are not allowed to cum unless I say you can.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.  That may be hard for me at first, but I will do my best.”

“Good girl you will obey”

He was swift in his work.  He quickly brought me to the edge over and over again.  Finally I begged for release.

“Sir, can I please?  Please, Sir.  Let me…”

“Hold it for me, not yet.” His voice was direct.

It was agony and he knew it.  It was his way of conditioning me to do his will.  I was high on the experience.  It was unlike anything I’d experienced before.

Finally I was allowed to let go.  It was intense and euphoric.  I almost forgot about the leather cuffs on my wrists and the knife on the table.

Bond had not forgotten.

He told me to retrieve a towel from the bathroom.  When I got up to walk to the bathroom, he quipped, “No.  I want you to crawl to the bathroom.  I want to watch you.”

How sexy.  I still had my heels on.

I crawled slowly to the bathroom and picked up a towel.  To add to the atmosphere, I decided to bring it back in my mouth.

Mr. Bond liked this.  So submissive.

Upon returning to the table (let’s call it an altar) I noticed that the knife was missing.

Is the towel in case I bleed?

And then I heard it…the undeniable sound of him switching the knife open.

Mr. Bond was about the cut the ties that held me back all these years.

To be continued…

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