I was perched there on display, kneeling on all fours on the bed, back to the door, with only my best panties on. They were ivory and black lace with sort of a harlequin pattern up the front and sheer black in the back. Sexy without being too skimpy, the ornately crafted front panel was just ample enough to cover the part of my tummy I didn’t want Rick to see. The rest of me was bare and shivering; half cold and half petrified with suspense. The exaggerated black leather collar weighed heavy around my neck, its stainless steel buckle cool and deliberate on my skin. It was the punctuation mark of this scene. Its presence left no doubt about the role I had decided to play from now on.
I had been given explicit preparation instructions. Get to the room at three pm sharp. Take a hot bath and shave everything from the waist down. He was going to check so it must be perfect. Leave the door slightly ajar so that he may enter at his leisure at a time not known to me. Put on the collar and panties and position myself on the bed with my back facing the entrance to that dark hotel room. I was to look straight ahead at all times. I was not to make eye contact once he arrived. I was not allowed to speak unless asked a direct question. I had my safe words at the ready. “Yellow” for slow down and “Red” for game over. Not incredibly original but practical. No need to get cute in situations like this.
I waited for him for an exceedingly long time. Long enough to carefully consider my circumstances and come to terms with the fact that this was the way I wanted to exist. This was the world I would be stepping into.
He entered the room, silent, snapping me into the present moment. I couldn’t see what he was doing at first but then I heard the clink of the blade being extracted from its barrel. First I thought “Holy crap he has a knife.” Then I thought, “This is HOT.” I was confused, wondering what I could possibly have thought was erotic about the possibility of getting shredded to bits. It then occurred to me that this was in essence the definition of submission. I had voluntarily kneeled that day, head down, unable to see or move, while he slid the back of a cold steel blade against my pale skin. I trusted him completely. In fact I had no choice but to trust. It was my first truly submissive act.
Then I heard the rip. I knew that cutting sound but I involuntarily broke the rules anyway and snapped my head to the side just in time to see my favorite pair of black and ivory lace panties fall to the floor for the very last time. I smiled.