Where Are You?

Where are you?

I don't know who you are or what you look like, it's your decision if I ever know. I've been waiting. All alone in this old nondescript farmhouse. There is no sound here, no busy streets or bustling sidewalks, no noisy highways or crowded commuter trains, no intrusion or interruption. Rather, only a light breeze that jostles the leaves of the sycamore trees that dot the acreage into a peaceful organic white-noise, and an occasional creak from the empty abandoned hay barn, long devoid of everything except weathered slats and a single cast iron block and tackle hanging low from the main beam.

Do I look alright?

I wanted to dress up for you. I don't ask questions and I don't say no, this is how i prove it. I'm shackled, cuffed, hobbled, hogtied, caged, collared, hooded, blindfolded, and chained myself to the concrete floor in the basement, for you, so that you can use me in any way that you like for as long as you like.

I picked this locking spider gag harness just for you. I was thinking of you as I put it on, nearly overcome by my lust to serve you as I applied the tiny padlocks that prevent it's removal, savoring the thought of your forceful hands gripping the straps at the back of my head as you savagely thrust in and out of me without regard. The chaps can be removed without disturbing any of my bindings if you don't like them, I just wanted to showcase all that I have to offer, all that is yours.

Do you like it?

I hope so, because it's all for you. The keys to all of these locks and chains and restraints are right over there, well out of my reach, all you have to do is take them. I have no friends, no family, no soul-sucking 9 to 5; just this land, this old house, and an unfulfilled anguish to serve and please you. A day, a night, a lifetime, anything. I'm here, waiting.

So, where are you?