Show me a man who has never really felt pain, and I will show you a man who has never really felt love. Love, a thousand tiny daggers, dancing on your soul and slashing at your heart strings. Love, the pink welts from a whip across the back of your thighs, or hot wax dripped upon your bare chest. True love is knowing your desires are second to mine, and that my disappointment in you is inevitable. I have needs, and when you fail to satisfy them, you will be deliciously punished.
I have needs that require less a man, and more a plaything. A plaything ready for my attention who is willing to submit to the pain I need to share with him. You are that man and plaything. I want your subservience, and I crave your obedience. I relish the smell of your fear. You will obey me, and you will squirm in anticipation as I command you though adventures you will barely comprehend. You will feel what I tell you to feel, and you will do what I tell you to do. You will feel my disappointment on your flesh and in your soul when you fail to satisfy me, and the elation that punishment brings as I teach you to do better will elevate you to new heights of pleasure. Do you understand?
I must go on the prowl to find you. I’ll go where I know I can find your kind, already beaten and tired from the drudgery of everyday life. You, though you may not have admitted it to yourself, are ready to be my slave. I just need to tell you that it is so, to allow you that understanding. You are waiting for me to enslave you and set you free.
I go to the laundry mat. It is laundry day, where else would you be?
I have prepared just the right bait to attract you, my prey. I leave my car in the parking lot, and walk to the door of the Wash and Go Laundry. By the time I get to the door, every man and woman there has seen what I am offering you through the clear glass front walls. They gawk, and they stare. They are uncomfortable with their own desires, and avert their eyes from me when I stare back, daring them to reveal themselves to me.
The bell rings loudly as the door opens, and I step inside. I smell laundry soap and fabric softener. You are there with them, among the gawkers. I see you immediately and know you are the one. Desperation fills your eyes. Your desire to escape the melancholy sameness of your existence is evident. You want me, and I have decided that you will do, for now.
I approach you. I can see your excitement, barely contained, and I wish to see more. I feel the delicious caress of your eyes work up my body as I walk towards you. Your eyes start low at the impossibly tall heels of my black leather boots and follow up the laces pulling the leather boots tight. The laces are tied at the top of the boots in small loops that tickle the creamy flesh of my thighs. Just a hint, a small taste of what could be yours if you submit to me. Hugging my body, my black dress reveals every curve of the playground that baits this trap.
Imagine it, if you will, my body, entertaining you, punishing you. I can tell that you are seeing it, and I have distracted you from the sorting of your clothing and the putting away of your underwear. The eyes of every Wash and Go patron are on us. They want to know us, and to live our story if but for a moment. Curiosity draws them close to us. They wish to hear what I will say to you. I can tell that you are curious too.
When I speak to you, I am all that you hear. I am all that you see. I tell you that you are mine, and I ask if you understand what that means. You nod agreement. When I command you to remove your clothes, you obey me without question. I see your excitement, no longer contained, and I see that you do understand. You will do fine.
I put the collar I have prepared for you around your neck and fasten it tight. It is large, and the black leather matches my dress. I attach the leash to one of the many steel rings of the collar and guide you, my new naked plaything, to my car, where you abandon your laundry for the adventures to come.