Transgressions

The doors slide open revealing the candle lit quarters behind. She enters, a tall, proud silver coated former Borg form moving cautiously, deep blue eyes adjusting quickly as the door quietly close encasing her in the silent flickering of gold.

The Grecian form glides effortlessly to the center of the darkened room, the cool calm demeanor of her exterior in conflict with the uncertainty of her interior mind.

In the stoic silent, a stunning female form emerges from the flickering shadows. Clad in leather, black and red, she moves at a sultry pace across the room, floating to the other woman. Without a word, she commands first attention by sheer presence.

Motionless, waiting, hesitant, blue eyes look on in wonder seeing a familiar form transformed. Taken by surprised and excited beyond her understanding, she can only observe the petite auburn figure circle her, measuring her for some yet unknown purpose.

The unfamiliarity unnerves and excites, frightens and enthralls. The familiar raspy, deep voice cuts through the darkness with an edge of more than command, demanding obedience she never dreamed she would hear.

Her body acquiesces to the voice's demands. Strength suddenly departs as she falls through the darkness, knees brushing carpet as shaking hands lock behind a tense back and eyes lower to block all sight, blinded by sheer force of will by the leather bound woman in front of her.

Her other senses flair as the scent of leather and candles encompass her. Hairs stand on end as the presence of the other woman engulfs her being.

Her skin tingles.
Her pulse races.
Her breath catches.

Seeing only through sensation, concentrating on the unknown, she waits. A sharp pain falls from the darkness. She cries out. Another pain follows across the tense shoulders.

The voice demands complete submission. The voice demands absolute compliance.

She moans. The pain returns as the crack of the whip fills the silence. She cries. The whip fills her body as the pain rushes through, sending sensations she had never imagined. She collapses to the ground and all pain ceases.

The voice asks but one question.

"Are you mine, dear?"

Her mind has but one answer; there is no doubt, no denying…

"Yes, Mistress…"