Loki's Kitten

Chapter 7: Oblivion

Loki holds your hand, and as he leads you through the doorway, you feel the slight pulse you have come to associate with Loki's magic. The room seems the same as the last time you visited. It is dark and pleasantly warm, and you detect the heady scents of vanilla and patchouli in the air. You feel you should be intimidated by the space, but it has an embracing, almost cocoon-like quality. 

"Would you have me change our clothing?" Loki asks you, walking slowly towards the large wooden chair in the centre of the room. "It is the last choice you will make tonight, Kitten. After this, I will do as you ask, and you will not have the burden of making any more decisions. You will be in my hands completely."

Loki looks at you, head tilted to one side, evaluating you. Under any other circumstances, you would hate any anticipation of powerlessness and subjugation, but on this occasion, you crave it. As you look into his eyes, you can see his desire to dominate you.

"Yes, Loki," you finally reply, "Show me how I should be dressed to submit to my King."

A brief flash of Loki's emerald eyes leaves him standing bare-chested, wearing tightly fitting black leather trousers and low-heeled boots. As you look down, you find that you are clothed only in a short baby-blue satin negligée with thin straps and a low neckline, edged with white lace. You are barefoot, which seems somehow significant. You feel pretty and desirable, but the way he has dressed you already seems to be robbing you of power and control.

"Come. Sit," his voice is commanding and resonant.

You feel compelled to do exactly as he says. You cannot take your eyes from him as you walk to the chair. You are captivated by his dark hair framing his porcelain skin; his fine cheekbones, piercing green eyes and tempting lips. His presence is arresting and you feel that you would do anything for him. As you sit down on the chair tentatively, Loki stands behind you and eases your shoulders back. His hands run down your biceps and he settles your forearms and hands to lay flat along the arms of the chair. His movements seem effortless as he deftly fits a leather cuff around your left wrist, pulling the strap tight, securing it with a metal buckle and affixing it to the chair. Likewise, he restrains your right wrist. Next, he kneels in front of you and fits a close-fitting leather cuff to each of your ankles, securing them to the stout wooden legs of the chair.

This is not something you have experienced before, and you expect to feel apprehension, even panic, at the restriction. But, in Loki's hands, the bonds make you feel safe and secure. Your overriding emotions are of anticipation and arousal. Loki stands behind the chair, you feel his hair brush against your shoulder and cheek as he leans in, whispering huskily in your ear, enunciating every word, "Sit...very...still."

You had expected Loki's domination to come with flagrant displays of authority, demands and force. But he merely stands before you, examining you. He leans over you, his lips just centimetres from yours. You yearn to stretch out to touch him but you dare not. He moves across your face, your cheek, your neck, so close that you can feel the heat of his breath. He continues to scrutinise your body, hovering over your breasts before kneeling in front of you. His face is level with your inner thighs. His mouth is so close, you can feel the desire in his breath and you ache for him to make contact with your skin. He follows your thigh, inwards, across your open legs and along your other thigh. He still does not touch you at all, only intensifying your desire for him.

He raises to his feet and moves behind the chair once again. You long to turn your head; to watch his every move. But you stay still. 

"Good. It seems you can be trusted to do as you are told," Loki declares with a hint of approval. You see a strip of soft, black fabric dangling in front of you and it is drawn up your chest, neck and cheek, with the lightest of touches. Loki holds it in his hands, covering your eyes and fixing the fabric at the back of your head in a firm knot.