You found me on the Internet.
We talked about the books of Milan Kundera and Henry Miller, the philosophies of Michel Foucault and Erich Fromm, films about war and the desire to love people in spite of any grief.
We met and our eyes said to each other what the lips did not dare to say. Without words, I agreed to give myself to you, to fall into your confident hands. You never once hinted at what exactly you would do with me when the bedroom doors closed behind us, but I knew that this would be an unusual sm - session.
With a familiar gesture, I extended my hands to you and you snapped the handcuffs on my wrists. At first, the unpleasant cold of the metal was quickly replaced by an unexpected feeling of freedom: from that moment on, I ceased to belong to myself, you took me the way you wanted and I wanted only one thing - to dissolve in you, to be one with you, to get out of the shackles of imposed ideas, and I experienced this I was able to get off the ground and fly. You hit me on the cheek and I liked this feeling of an imperious male hand on my face, I tossed about the bed and asked for more and more. I experienced an orgasm unexpected in strength and brightness and literally fell into your arms...
We were both shocked by the new feeling that came over us. You called me in the evenings and whispered your fantasies into the phone, told me about a thousand bittersweet things that you wanted to hurt me. For days on end I couldn't think of anything else but you.
When you suggested that I go to Italy for a week, I agreed without thinking. Then you said that this vacation would not be easy for me. I was waiting for something new, unknown, I wanted it and was afraid at the same time.
We stayed in a quiet, comfortable hotel on the banks of Lago Maggiore, just beyond the Swiss border. Room with a lake view and a huge bed. "Sorry, there's nothing to tie you to." You again tie my arms and legs with a thick rope, I kneel and almost aloud count the blows falling on my legs and back. I find out that a horse whip is much "angrier" than a regular whip, I almost thank you for this discovery. Then you let me touch you, satisfy you with my mouth. Your cock spews a stream of sperm into me and I fall, exhausted and joyful, we are one again - the master and his slave.
Late in the evening after a delicious dinner and a fascinating conversation - you listen carefully, everything I say, we discuss everything in the world, we are just interested together! - We go for a walk along the lake. Lago Maggiore, large, beautiful, illuminated by lights, quietly splashes with fishing boats and expensive yachts chained to the shore. You slap my butt pretty hard a few times and order me to get on my knees, and I readily obey. I learned to understand that for you it is a manifestation of tenderness.
In public, you are very affectionate with me, you fulfill my every desire, you constantly hug and kiss me. We are a beautiful couple; you are 10 years older than me, solid and experienced, so close and dear. You admire my body, face, gait. I am very happy, not a single man appreciated me like you.
It's still chilly in northern Italy in mid-April, but I wear a blouse with a very large neckline so that you can watch the marks of your blows on my chest every minute.
You keep coming up with new "tasks" for me. We stayed near Genoa in a hotel on the Mediterranean coast. From the balcony there is a beautiful view of the sea, the beach in palm trees and typically Italian houses with terraces and terraces filled with wicker furniture and countless pots and tubs with all kinds of flowers and plants. I am fascinated by this view ... and here I am on my knees, my hands are tied high to the handle of the balcony, and my butt is decorated with fresh stripes left by your whip ... I stand like that for exactly half an hour, and you watch me, lying on the bed. .. You, my lord, are very merciful to me and let me go 3 minutes early ... exhausted, I fall on the bed ... you pounce on me and we love each other passionately ... you slap me again, I again experiencing these sharp, incomparable orgasms ... I come, sobbing, and you dry my tears with kisses.
We spend four crazy days together. During the day you show me places of amazing beauty; in the evenings you treat yourself to delicious dinners - I will never forget this typically Italian mixture of smells: fresh dough, spicy olives, tart vinegar with basil, sour young local wine, fragrant strongest espresso; and at night we greedily revel in each other, opening to each other the most secret corners of our souls, the existence of which we had no idea before ...
Our vacation came to an abrupt end. On the way to Nice, without saying a word, you turned the car around with a sharp movement and we drove in the opposite direction. Home. I never saw you again, but the memory of you, who taught me to fly with my hands tied, will never leave me...