Inner Fire

68 degrees
She’s in the next room. i can hear Her moving around. i can hear Her sighing, humming a tune. Shifting things about. Being busy. Making me wait.
i know all about waiting.
It’s getting warm. i’m starting to sweat, just a touch – palms of my hands, back of my neck. my feet feel clammy. The leather around my wrists and ankles is starting to rub against my skin.
72 degrees
She comes in. Stands at the bottom of the bed and looks. Never speaks. No smile. Doesn't’t acknowledge me, just watches. The backs of my knees are damp, there’s sweat pooling at the base of my spine. She stares at me, dares me to look away. She looks at my breasts, my belly, my pussy. i squirm, try to close my legs, conceal myself, but i can’t. i’m on show.
my straps are beginning to chafe. my arms are getting tired.
She leaves the room, skirt swaying around Her, hinting at the magnificence of Her body.
75 degrees
She sits by the bed. Sits beside me. Watches. Observes Her property. i swallow, prepare to speak, but She shakes Her head. my brow is hot, trickling trepidation, slithering salt into my eyes.
She reaches out and touches me. i flinch – as though scalded – as She lays Her hand on my belly, palm flattening against me, feeling my inner fire rise. Clawing Her fingers, She drags Her nails across my skin, upwards, towards my breast. It’s hot, getting hotter. A trace of a smile – the satisfaction of ownership – as She grips my nipple, twists, teases. i bite my lip and try not to cry out.
78 degrees
The sheet is clinging to my back, rucking around my bottom. The straps bite at my ankles and thighs, sweat gathering, stinging. She stands up, walks to the foot of the bed. Watching me, She unbuttons Her dress and lets it fall to the floor. The temperature rises. Black bra and panties. Black hair. Dark eyes. White skin. my chiaroscuro tormentor.
She walks around the bed, slinking sinuously, backside floating from side to side. Such long legs, such elegance, such cool, detached control. my throat is dry, body tense. The straps eat into me. i stare ahead, at the heat haze before me, at my future, bubbling around me.
80 degrees
i can hear my heart. my body is covered in a sheen of sweat and fear. Her hand drags against my knee, slides up my thigh. She stares into my eyes and i try to fathom the coolness of Her touch. Her fingers edge upwards, floating across the dampness of my skin to the place where i am wettest. i flinch as She touches me, as Her cool, dry fingers dip into a pool of sheer longing.
For the first time, She smiles.
Hot, getting hotter.
i struggle against my bonds, squirming, the damp sheet cleaved to my back. Silently, She slaps me into submission and i lie still as Her finger traces the length of my cunt, sliding between my lips, slipping into the wetness. She puts the finger to my mouth and i lick and discover the essence of heat.
82 degrees
my body is smouldering. i feel like tinder in an air-dried desert, ready to snap aflame. Her nail is on my clitoris, dragging round and round, circling pain and pleasure in one constant sweep. The marks of my bonds are clear on my skin, sweat already infiltrating the abrasions, stinging its presence.
She is naked. Her body is an oasis of cool unaffected by the swelter afflicting me. my legs are parted as far as i can move them and i am willing Her forward, praying for Her tongue to replace Her finger.
85 degrees
She sits astride me, watching. my face is flushed, brow running cold and hot. Where Her skin touches mine – buttock on belly, thighs on sides – my body feels molten. Her breasts are above me –nipples erect and pointing skywards, and i long to suckle them into my mouth.
i want to touch Her, hold Her, hug Her. my bonds cut deep into my flesh, the pain exquisite, the torment unbearable.
Then, and only then, She speaks. “Do you love Me, bitch?”
i nod, mutely, my mouth waiting.
88 degrees
Her cunt on my mouth, my tongue in Her slit. An inner fire like i’ve never known, kindled, candescent. She sits on me hard, forcing Herself down, covering my mouth and nose. Staring up, i see a statue, a monument. i see the Woman who owns me.
Breathless. Torrid. Suffocating heat. She moves and i gulp hot air, feeling it scald my throat. And then She is on me once more, Her thighs pressed hard to my cheeks, cunt sealed over my mouth.
If i were to die, this would be the way.
90 degrees
A spark, a scintillation. my body is on fire as i devour my Mistress and She consumes my soul. She rides my face, harder and faster, hotter and hotter. Heat sears my eyes. my tongue tastes the fervour of Her climax, molten passion sliding into my mouth and down my throat. She is squeezing the life from me, Her thighs scorching, branding me with Her mark.
The leather straps are etched into my skin, part of me, defining who i am. She peels Herself from my face and sits beside me, satisfied. The inner fire thrills through me.
95 degrees
O/our souls fuse. W/we are one.
i am Hers.