Disclaimer: This story is my intellectual property, and should be treated as such, do not plagiarize, or post without permission. If it is not legal to view writings that are sexually explicit and may have themes of bondage, feminization and other ‘deviant’ sexual experiences: don’t read this. Don’t read it, if it is not legal to do so where you live. Going any further is of your own free will, and responsibility is solely on yourself. Any similarity to real people or events is highly cliche, horrifying and unintentional.
She has a dark imagination. She is wicked. She enjoys the game, the torment… She is Depraved. He has surrendered his orgasm, soon his sight, hearing, touch, taste, smell, and so much more: he is deprived. They are…
Depra/ived
By: Mistress Dyvia
Chaprer 1B: T-Minus 2 days until ‘Night-R’
I was very much aware that my hallway took four left turns. But for some reason every time I took another left, I wasn’t making it to my bedroom. How could I have gotten lost in my own hallway? I turned around, and the walls were the wrong color. No, I needed to keep going. I turned around and the ground wasn’t where I thought it was, and I was… Falling!?
I flailed in my bed. Fuck… Not the way I liked to wake up. I looked at the clock and I had slept in and Steve let me do so, graciously. I sat up and stretched out. I looked down, almost surprised to see that I was naked, I usually preferred to sleep with one of his t-shirts on, and certainly with panties… but I did feel really rested.
Steve was long gone. Probably down stairs playing video games or maybe doing some yard work outside. I opened a drawer, grabbed a sports bra, pulled on some panties, sweat pants, and one of Steve’s t-shirts, brushed my teeth, and made my way down the stairs. He made pancakes. But he was gone and so was his car. A note next to a plate of pancakes left instructions on ‘his way’ of warming them back up, because using a microwave was apparently barbaric. I threw them in the microwave, because I was clearly a barbarian.
He apparently went grocery shopping and promised to be home before noon. I shrugged my shoulders, waited for the beep of the microwave, reached for the maple syrup and bit in… kinda wishing I hadn’t brushed my teeth before the meal. But the minty flavor was mostly gone after the third bite. When I was done, I cleaned up the kitchen, I supposed it was only fair that if he cooked, that I should clean… it was too early to clean… meh…
By the time Steve got home, the kitchen was clean, I was showered, and Netflix was going strong! He walked in with three bags of groceries, “Good Morning, Lilah.”
“Good Afternoon!” I replied.
He looked at the clock, “but it’s not noon yet, how can it be ‘after’ noon if it isn’t even noon yet?”
I shrugged, “Because it’s the latest ‘good morning’ you’ve given me in a long time.”
He exhaled loudly through his nose, but it sounded more amused than annoyed, “In that case, Good afternoon, Milady.”
“Geez, it’s not even afternoon yet!” I teased.
He rolled his eyes, came over and kissed me. “You’ve been busy this morning.”
I nodded as he met my eyes, “I woulda made you a sammich too, but you’re lucky I was able to walk at all after last night.”
Catching on to a meme I once showed him, “If you were able to walk after a night like last night, I didn’t deserve one anyway.” he again kissed me and I returned it with a bit of enthusiasm.
“You deserved one, even if I can walk this morning.” I gave him a playful wink.
He fidgeted for a moment, “Can we talk?”
I nodded my head, “Of course!” but I kept my eyes on the television for a moment, looking back and forth between him and the show wondering if this was more than bills and mortgage payments. When I saw the look on his face, I pressed the pause button. “Everything alright?”
He nodded his head slowly. “Yeah…” he paused a bit as if trying to put the words together in his mind, and I was pretty sure he had practiced this a few times but the words now escaped him.
“Steve?” I asked sitting up, and facing him.
“You remember last weekend, I asked to borrow your tablet to do a bit of surfing since I hadn’t charged my own?”
I nodded my head, “yeah. You forgot to plug in your phone overnight, and you probably hadn’t charged your tablet in a couple months.” I recounted to him.
“At one point I went to check my email, and you sort of hadn’t logged out of your ‘DelightfullyDecadent’ account.
I sucked in a deep breath. I felt the blood rush to my head, that was a bit exposing. I’m still not sure if I was embarrassed in that moment. But it was a surreal moment. Blood rushed to my head, and I thought about the things he could have seen there. I was a writer, I may have written my fair share of G rated to R rated things in my professional life… I may have written for newspapers and magazines, had a few small books published… but those were my works of ‘beauty.’ And I had to get my darker impulses out as well, and I wrote some very exposing erotica that had some of my darker sexual fantasies published online… under the name ‘DelightfullyDecadent… or DoubleD, as I often replied to my fan mail as. My mind mentally thought of some of the stuff that he could have found if he looked for my stories, most of it was pretty hardcore BDSM stuff, with focuses on femdomme stuff and other fetishes that dallied in the back of my soul.
“Look Steve… I.. I’m not mad at you for seeing that stuff if that’s why you are nervous.” and I kept thinking to myself, ‘Please let that be why he’s nervous,’ over and over again in my mind… I mean he went all out last night on a nice date, and the sex was better than anything he had done in a while, was he trying to prove that he was a ‘real man, or something? Trying to show me that he could satisfy me without indulging my fantasies?
“Is not that.” he said, seemingly having difficulty trying to look me in the eyes. “I’ve read your stuff before. Before we met. I was shocked to see that you were the one who wrote that stuff… that I sorta jerked off to for years.”
I was dumbfounded, “Wait.. what?” I said looking at him, but everything about his face and body language seemed to be telling the truth, and seemed to be a bit embarrassed because of it. He started to say something and I cut him off, “I heard what you said, I’m just… processing.” yeah that was the right word for it, ‘Processing.’ I put my face in my hands for a moment to think.
I knew that I loved Steve, we had been together for a while and I had hoped to eventually share this side of me with him on an intellectual level. But I felt exposed. It made it a bit better that he had read my stuff prior. But I always thought of sitting him down, and saying something like ‘Hey, hun.. Look. I have this kinky side to me, I love to write out these elaborate stories, I don’t expect you to have any interest in this stuff, nor do I expect ‘us’ to change… but in the sake of honesty I wanted you to know.’ and of course my mind had always played his reactions being as cool as thanking me for being honest to freaking out and dumping me on the spot to the erotic ripping his clothes off and dropping to a one knee swearing his obedience to me forever…
This was not one of the ways I had thought it would go.
“Lilah?” I lifted my face out of my hands to look at him, “Don’t be upset.”
I shook my head, “I’m not… I’m just feeling awkward.” my normal thought processes started kicking in, and I spoke before I thought, “And what do you mean you read my stuff. You are like the most vanilla guy I have ever met.”
He pointed a finger at me, “You might be the most vanilla woman I ever met.”
I held up my shoulders and lifted my arms, “You’ve never even mentioned any of this before.”
“Once.” he said, “We were in the mall, and I found those handcuffs and showed them to you, you rolled your eyes and walked away from me. I decided not to bring it up again.”
I looked at him incredulously, trying to remember anything like this. Until something clicked, “They were plastic, neon green, and cost like three dollars.”
This time it was his turn to look at me incredulously, “Wait, the only reason you didn’t like them was they were cheap and ugly?”
I nodded my head, “Pretty much.”
He fell back into a recliner and started laughing. I stood up and put my hands on his hips glaring at him trying to figure out why this was funny. He put up one hand, “No need for that look.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“Think about it. The two of us make out living off our abilities to communicate with other people. You are a writer, I work in public relations, this is what we do. We are both very successful, and here we are failing to communicate with each other because we are too insecure and over analyze each other and assume things we shouldn’t have assumed.”
“You’ve been thinking about this all week.” I said as my voice grew softer. “What do we do now?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. We talk I guess.”
I tilted my head, “That’s a good first step.” I wasn’t sure who should bring it up first, “So, do you want to try some female domination stuff?” putting it right out there.
“Yes,” firmly, and then he continued a bit more softly,, “honestly, I’m not sure to what level some of the stuff you wrote was really intense. I’m honestly not sure if I want to jump into a 24/7 relationship.”
I shook my head, “No… definitely not. Seriously, I have always said submission is a gift, but a full time relationship like that is pretty intense, and there is a lot of responsibility. We can do some baby steps. Maybe we’ll just focus on bedroom kink for a while, and if we enjoy that, try a day or two on the occasional weekend.”
His facial expression seemed relieved and agreeable to that. “I”d like that.. But what now?”
I shrugged my shoulders which was rapidly becoming my default reaction, “I dunno, you’ve been thinking about this for a week, you probably have more questions than I do at the moment.”
“I probably do.” he agreed. “What are all of your writings? I mean, are they real? Pure fantasy? What?”
That was a fair question, “Mostly fantasy. Some characters were based on people I knew, albeit exaggerated.”
He paused to consider his next words, “Mistress Dominique, she seemed to be a character that was appearing in more and more of your stories than just poof, gone. What happened.”
My eyebrows lifted and I thought about being completely honest with him, evasive or making something up. I let out a soft sigh and decide on the evasive and vague answer, “Let’s not bring up Dominique, a bitch who likes to steal men from their wives and girlfriends, and like any of the rare people who actually benefit from Murphy’s Law, she shows up when you least want her around.”
“That is intense and vague.”
“Well, I was going for evasive and vague.” I threw back at him.
“Seriously, talk to me about her…”
“And I don’t want to talk about her anymore.” trying to put it in his head that I did not want to talk about her, and that I really did think that if I talked about her too much, she could show up at our doorstep.
But he continued, “You know you can trust me.”
I let out a sigh, and let the sentence form in my mind, “She’s my sister. We had a break, and she became a bitch.”
“You don’t have a sister.” he said uncertainly…
“I have a twin sister.” then corrected, “An identical twin sister. And I don’t want to talk about her, cuz I don’t want to talk to her… trust me, she’ll show up.”
“Okay.” he said with a tone that said he would drop the subject.”
I smiled, “So if you like my stuff, then you have sub tendencies, are you fully sub or are you a switch?”
He looked away from me for a moment, then met my eyes, “In a vanilla situation, I prefer to take control, you know that, but in a kink situation, I don’t have much aggression in me at all, definitely sub.” he paused, “What about you?”
I thought for a moment, “In a vanilla situation, I could go either way, I’ve let you have your way with me because you obviously know what you are doing.” I smirked a bit as I looked down at his crotch, and he smiled back noticing the glance, “But in a ‘kink situation’ as you called it, I am mostly dominant… but can enjoy a submissive role if we were playing a game that I could switch it around and take control.” it thought to elaborate, “Think of me playing the slave girl, and when the master finally thinks he has broken her, turns his back on her, and she cuffs him and has her way with him… if that makes sense.”
“It does.” he paused to think, “Mind control. I have a pretty intense fetish for it, and it’s prevalent in your stories. It’s why I asked you about Mistress Dominique.”
“Shh..” I shushed him, reminding him that I didn’t even want him to say her name. Like it was a curse.
“Let’s talk mind control. In a healthy situation like what we have.”
“In a healthy situation.” He repeated my words as if he liked the idea.
“There are different ways to do it. But I’d say the first way is conditioning.” I suggested.
“As in Classical conditioning like with Pavlov and his dogs with the bell?”
I nodded my head with a smile, “exactly like that. We will decide what your bell will be, and for starters when the bell goes off, or whatever we use, you just obey anything I say without complaint or argument.”
He seemed amused, “Are we really going to use a bell?”
I looked at him like he was silly, “No…” I shook my head really as a moment to give myself a chance to think about my next words, “I’m thinking more like something to wear, but I don’t like the idea of a collar, they are almost too formal. I’ll think of something.” I paused to think and then added, “if we eventually get you to that point where it naturally puts you in your sub space, we can talk about finding something a bit more traditionally mind control, maybe I’ll make some audio files for you to listen to at night. But one step at a time.”
He shifted in his seat and I immediately knew he was starting to get hard at the thought. Shit, and I was starting to get wet. Nope think unsexy thoughts.. I don’t want to change my undies right now, nor did I want a yeast infection if I ended up spending hours in a swamp of my own arousal… unsexy thoughts… wait... yeast infection… that was as unsexy as it was going to get. And with a few thoughts about that, I was dry and my panties were mostly dry.
I stood up. “I need to think for a little bit.”
He nodded his head, “I understand, I really do. Do you want me to leave for a little bit?”
I shook my head, ‘No.’ and then said, “Nothing like that, I just want to give some more thought to this, and internalize a bit, I’m an introvert by nature, I do my best thinking when I’m not talking with others.” I walked over and kissed him lightly on the lips then added, “but don’t worry, I can’t imagine anything that will prevent me from making you my pet this weekend.”
He looked up at me with a sheepish smile, “I can’t think of anything in the world that would be sexier.”
I giggled for a moment and made my way back up to the bedroom. I laid on the bed for a while thinking about how I wanted to proceed with this new info. It expanded a whole new world of playtime that I never really dreamed that I would do with Steve. However there was one thing that was bothering me, and that was fetishes, I still didn’t really know the stuff he actually enjoyed, sure I knew BDSM, but that was such a blanket description for literally hundreds of sexual practices, that it wasn’t narrowing things down. It was like saying they liked sex, but you didn’t know if they liked vaginal, oral, anal, boob jobs, preferred missionary over doggy or cowgirl…
I used my phone and found a website that let you fill in a list of fetishes, and a couple could see what they both liked. I forwarded the link to him and started filling it out myself. At the very least when we were done looking I could start putting together a plan of how we would do this.
My eyes snapped to my closet, but regardless there was always the light stuff for starters. Let’s see what I had. I opened up the closet, it was not like I needed much, just an emphasis on black, right? Would a lingerie style corset work as well as a leather one with metal ribs? Probably not, but for tonight it just might. I knew that I would have shoes that screamed ‘in charge,’ so that was never even a concern.
Could I do something with my hair? Or would I need a wig? Would one of the costume wigs I had in the closet work? These were not easy questions. Still, I thought I was going to have to make a trip to get a few things that I was unable to substitute. I mean I had a nice black silk scarf that I could use as a blind fold, but seriously why fake a blindfold, when I could get the real thing and do so inexpensively.
The scene I wanted to make for us would need very little, but I did not want it to feel cheap in any way at all. I wanted this to be legitimate and real… and make a memory for both of us to cherish.
A few minutes later I was down the stairs, this time he was playing video games, “I’m going to do some retail therapy, and I’ll be back in an hour or two.” I skipped over to him to plant a kiss on his head before putting on a pair of sneakers and making my way to the mall.