Trust

Trust. It was all about trust, Camille thought as she stretched her arms above her head – like a trapeze artist reaching for her partner, though in her case it would not be her partner’s hands clasped around her wrists, but rather the silken cords he dangled in front of her eyes.

Her gesture was her answer to his questions. Will you surrender? Will you submit to me? She had wanted to hear him ask those questions since the night of their first meeting. The private party at the BDSM club had been populated with elegant people – Doms and subs, tops and bottoms, Masters and slaves – all alone and looking to find the perfect partner with whom to live out the most carnal and captivating of fantasies. She had never before participated in a submissive role. But the desire had been there. Overwhelming, ever-present. Vanilla sex and relationships had left her distant and unfulfilled. Eventually she had abandoned all hope of ever finding a soul-mate, a partner who would help her to fly, to soar into the subspace she’d read so eagerly and longingly of. Who would teach her body and her mind to obey and revel in the sensual pains and the submissive role.

Now she was here. Jason had cornered her at the party. He had spoken to her briefly, watched her intently, and then made a date for cocktails the next evening. She had been breathless with anticipation until their rendezvous, and weak with disappointment when he called their evening to an end.

But he had escorted her home, kissed her palms, and held her face between his broad palms.

“Camille, I would like to explore this chemistry. You are a natural submissive and I would like to be the man who shares these first, virginal experiences with you. But the choice must be yours. You must give yourself to me willingly, without reservations. I do not play games and this is not a frivolous or casual offer. Should you accept me this will be a complete relationship. I do not just desire your body. I desire your mind, and your soul and that beautiful, generous heart of yours. I want you to be mine in all ways.”

She had begun to answer, but he had laid a finger across her lips.

“Do not be hasty. This is a most momentous decision. I want you to think long and hard. I want you to be sure. You will need to trust me, implicitly. Take your time to decide if you can do that.”

And he had left her, feeling bereft of his mere presence. The only times he had touched her – fleeting touches of her hands, wrists shoulder or cheek – had made her feel alive, loved, possessed. They had made her feel amazing. She had known from the moment he offered that she wanted all he was willing to give. And she had known it was the real thing.

Beneath him, she smiled and leaped into the chasm.