Tortured By The Collective...

I lay on the bed, my mask pulled tight and my vision cut off. With a start, I feel the bed move and my heart starts to race. My beautiful four-poster carriage is being wheeled somewhere and I have no idea where.

A small sliver of brightness peeks through the leather mask that blocks my eyesight and I lick my lips. It's colder, wherever we are. My nipples harden and my skin goosebumps as a chilly breeze runs across me.

Somewhere I hear an announcer type voice call out, "Number Five is presented to you as one of your Offerings."

I feel overcome with emotion. This is literally the moment I have been waiting for my entire adult kink life. Ever since I started attending munches and growing more comfortable within the kinky community and my identity as a submissive, I craved something more. Something deeper, darker, and scarier. I wanted to push my limits and most of all, I longed to be a plaything.

I have served several Dominant men over the years in my community in my years and each has taught me more about who I am and how I serve. I am thankful for their training and the relationships I have had. All of it has prepared me for this.

"Five. It is our wish that you be blindfolded during this session and that you do not make a single sound. If you consent, nod, and snap your fingers twice. If you wish to withdraw your consent or stop, merely speak and we will end the scene."

With confidence, I snap my fingers and hold my breath.