Having Imtiaz in my life unfocused the world, leaving our population of two intact. We were inseparable for the remainder of the week. The kid started coming into her own and between parties, school and friends, she was rarely home. This is college life, or so they tell me.
I was always one who reveled in quiet solitude only now I was no longer alone and we were anything but quiet. The setup though not intentional worked entirely to our benefit. During my days at work, a text or call from him whilst on break would set my heart ablaze, my mind racing with indecent memories, his voice instantly liquefying my lust. I couldn’t remember feeling this good since junior high. Like a deeply rooted bonsai turning toward the sun, his pull was gravitational. I revered him, evolving under his attentive ministrations, voluntarily surrendering to the abyss. He made a temple of my body and paid homage with his fingertips, tongue, hands and manhood. This tiger made a new creature of me and I worshiped him for it.
When we were out in the world his eyes never strayed, his arms empty but for me. And at night when we were alone he whispered words that would shame a cocotte yet only goaded my darker self out of the shadows. He gave me everything I never knew I coveted.
I fought my enslavement with the invention of a game. How normal could I appear to all the world when my only waking thought was of him? I amused myself with the minutes or hours that could tick by without wishing he was behind me, inside of me, fingers wrapped around my throat, his voice full of silk harnessed in a body of stone, you want to be my dirty little whore baby? Is that what you want?
Would that I could be little else. I wanted to live in this world exclusively, eternally. He had done what I’d feared despite all of my denial. He had become my Dominus; mind, body and soul.