The Spiritual Savage

“This fucking guy again” she chuckles to herself. It’s been at least two years now that she’s been seeing the notifications occasionally pop up on her profile, revealing that once again he’d taken a peek.

His warm brown eyes and a smile that clearly indicated a propensity for mischief had always intrigued her, but he also identified as a Dom which meant they were on the same side of the coin that she wasn’t about to flip no matter how attractive she found him. She’d often wondered what it was that kept bringing him back to her page; was it the directness of her words? The fact that she seemed like a real person amongst all of the professional Dommes? Or was it just the pretty pictures she’d attached to it? Considering the profile up until recently had displayed no images she thought perhaps it was something more, but had never bothered to contact him to ask. Her experience with male Doms in the past had not gone well.  Inevitably, conversation had always led to them trying to convince her that the person she had been her entire life was somehow capable of being persuaded to acquiesce to their image of what she should be, and the experience always left her cold and a little angry.

She didn’t want to think of Denny that way.

Yes, she’d given him a nickname.

Every time she saw his face appear on her profile he reminded her of the actor Jeffrey Dean Morgan. The first time she recalled ever seeing him was as a character named Denny in Grey’s Anatomy, so that’s what she’d taken to calling her mystery man. She’d decided long ago that Denny had a roguish face and a disarming smile, and she didn’t want to think that he was just another Shallow Hal swinging by to wank one out while looking at her pictures. So instead of potentially ruining her vision of him, she preferred to have him remain a mystery. In the midst of her pausing over his picture and wondering for the hundredth time what it would be like to taste his lips she realized that something was different.

He’d actually messaged her.

“Good morning, would love to talk to you…”

Well this was certainly not the way she’d expected her Friday to start off, but she also wasn’t the type to ignore a polite invitation. They exchanged a few brief messages and instead of delaying that inevitable moment where she confirmed he was either A) an arrogant jerk B) seeking to add someone to his poly relationship or C) trying to convince her that over his lap with her ass in the air would be her new favorite position if only she’d give it a try, she decided to cut to the chase and just call him.

Much to her surprise, he was a perfect gentleman and continued to be, almost every time they’d spoken. Occasionally he would sneak in a teasing comment or call her by her favorite nickname in that deep, seductive voice of his and she would find her resolve instantly melting.

“Yes, Daddy” he would almost growl. Hearing those words come from his mouth affected her more than she cared to admit. He never called her by her name, preferring instead to use terms of endearment including a nicely placed “Daddy” on a regular basis.

Just as she made it a point to endear herself to her intended by learning all of their interests and triggers; she quickly realized that this one did the same. Much like herself, he also loved the thrill of the hunt but unlike she; he was quite content to be the prey. And for once, she’d finally found someone who didn’t seem to want to change a thing about her.

As a result of what they slowly started to discover about one another, a low vibration would sometimes start coursing through her body when they spoke. To hear her describe it, it was what she imagined it would be like walking up on a large and very busy bee hive. The hum starts off in a subtle manner and the closer she would venture towards her target; the stronger and deeper the vibration until it fully enveloped her.

After more than three years of being dormant, Hiss was reawakening.

Her naturally warm and nurturing demeanor was at times quite deceiving, as there was a very dark and sadistic side of her that had been locked away for some time. In order to feed that side of herself she needed much more than most in the lifestyle were able to offer her, and instead of trying to satiate the need with those who regularly volunteered she reluctantly shut it down instead. Without a genuine connection she compared most interactions as trying to scratch an itch that was so deeply imbedded underneath the surface that no matter how hard she tried, she could never quite reach it.

Soon, he would be walking through her door. She had already warned him that doing so meant that he gave her consent to use him however she pleased, and the thought of ravaging his flesh made her ache with need.  Picturing him naked and being held captive by the chains under her bed have kept her in a near constant state of arousal as of late, and she knows its just a matter of time before she sinks into him and breathes in the heady combination of his pain, arousal and masculine energy.

Her eyes narrow and a slightly sinister smile crosses her lips at the thought.

It won’t be much longer.

She’s finally met her match, and patiently waits for the game to begin.