Free Destined to Play by Indigo Bloome Page B

straps something that feels like padded handcuffs around my wrists and clasps them together in record time.
    I am left gasping, speechless, bound and blind as Jeremy secures the blindfold back into position. What on earth is going on here? This isn’t just some university prank that we can laugh about together. Jeremy said he would go to virtually any length to make this happen. Why? My thoughts are pulsating in my brain in tandem with my heart, trying to decipher what has just happened to me. I can feel the intensity of the energy in the room as if it is pumping through the air. What is driving him to be so dominating? What exactly am I missing?
    ‘I’d forgotten just how very stubborn you are. It’s quite astonishing.’ The old Jeremy is back, having a normal conversation with me. Unbelievable.
    ‘Stubborn,’ I shriek, emotion still overwhelming my muscles, my voice. ‘How can you …’
    ‘Please, keep your voice down. I won’t be able to feed you with a gag in your mouth,’ he states calmly.
    ‘You wouldn’t dare —’
    He cuts me off immediately. ‘I’ve come this far, my love. You know I would. The sooner you surrender yourself to me, the more freedom you will experience,’ he whispers as if we are co-conspirators. What does he mean by that?
    I shuffle around on the seat while trying to fully absorb the reality of my wrists being bound behind me. Although we have had an exploratory sexual past, Jeremy has never taken things this far before. There has never been this urgency, this underlying non-negotiable tone. I recognise now that perhaps I am in well and truly over my head. I just don’t understand what is driving this situation, and why …
    One minute I feel so close to him, in every way. The next minute I have to wonder if I know him at all. I am a mother for god’s sake; how the hell did I let myself get into this situation? What if I really can’t get out of it, now that I’m here? Is he joking, playing? Is he testing me? Pushing me to the limit? If so, it is working. I am confused and panicked, and contradictorily and frustratingly, extremely bloody aroused.
    ‘Now, let’s not waste these martinis.’
    Jeremy holds my chin upwards and carefully slides the cold liquid into my mouth. I don’t speak to him; I honestly don’t know what to say. I can barely move. I am petrified of going against his wishes after what has just happened, which is no doubt exactly what he intended, so I sit in silence, like a mannequin. It’s as if every cell in my body is electrified, awaiting his next move, on high alert. It’s strangely invigorating. I can feel his stare attempting to penetrate my thoughts. I try to calm my breath, my emotions, my thoughts … I fail. More silky liquid finds my tongue and slides down my throat. I don’t encourage it. I don’t prevent it. I’m frozen with some sort of fear of the unknown that I can’t define; it’s exciting and tantalising even though I feel utterly vulnerable with only Jeremy to rely on. What choice do I have, but to temporarily accept this bizarre sequence of events without protest or complaint? However, in accepting this fate I am also forced to concede that I have never felt more special or cherished by anyone in my life.
    Presumably we have finished our martinis because I am guided to a standing position.
    Jeremy slips his arm around my waist through my bound arms. We walk away without words.
    Suddenly, my feet are swept out from beneath me and Jeremy carries me easily up some stairs. It makes me feel very small, even more fragile and dependent, when he can scoop my body up so effortlessly. I have no physical defence against him and my emotional ones are being systematically infiltrated. I have never relied on someone so completely. I am usually so self-sufficient and this gesture of complete possession makes me quite literally go weak at the knees.
    I hear a door open and feel a flood of fresh air surround me. He lowers me directly into a chair. I