Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 137135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Several minutes later, the rest of my body returns to all hands on deck, and I reach for my cell to send Gym Daddy—I really fucking need to learn his name—a message. I don’t know what, something… anything… just to let him know he didn’t scare me away. I go with honesty.
WillDive4Plants:
I just now unfroze.
It’s embarrassing how many typos I had in that short sentence I took the time to fix before actually sending it.
WillDive4Plants:
But not done shaking apparently.
I’ve read the same sentence in my manuscript 14 times and still don't know WTF I wrote.
I smile as the messages go from Delivered to Read within seconds.
RomanticSadistLL:
I apologize that you couldn't get the full effect. If you would've come to my car where I could get closer, you would've felt my breath as I whispered in your ear, felt my presence, close enough to sense but not enough to physically feel. With your eyes closed, and that closeness, my aura would caress you, then consume you until your body wanted to respond.
I literally gulp. After hearing the sound of his voice, I read his words in his tone in my head, and anything that might’ve sounded cheesy coming from any other man just makes me weak. Because there’s only truth in what he said. I felt exactly what he meant. His aura radiated, a hum you heard and felt when it first flipped on, until you got used to it, and then weren’t actively cognizant of it again until it flipped off. And if I weren’t so overtaken by the inability to do anything but listen, my body would’ve responded by leaning closer to him, closing the short space between us.
I have never in my life reacted to a person like that before.
I have never once been struck speechless and immobile.
And although it was a terrifying feeling, it was exhilarating as fuck, and I want nothing more than to beg him to come back.
But I won’t. No way. He said he had errands to run, and I don’t want to come off as needy. So instead, I message him with a different bit of honesty.
WillDive4Plants:
So what you're saying is… the fact that it did that anyway is… not typical? 👀
RomanticSadistLL:
I thought about making you say "yes, Sir" when I was done, asking if you understood your instructions. But when you covered your mouth, I didn't know if you could trust your voice to work.
So he noticed my hand, huh? That’s not embarrassing at all.
WillDive4Plants:
I'm pretty sure I hyperventilated.
He’s right. If he would’ve told me when he was here to confirm verbally, it would’ve come out in a humiliating croak or a barely audible whisper if anything.
WillDive4Plants:
And that would've been a challenge. I'm not sure I can even speak right now, actually.
And I definitely covered it because I lost all control of my facial muscles and started trembling.
Oh my God, Sienna, swallow some Pepto. We need to control your word-vomit!
When he still hasn’t replied after a minute, I scoff at my almost immature physical response to the man. It’s the same response a young teenager might have while talking to their biggest crush, or even just sitting next to them in class. Hell, it’s the same exhilaration when meeting a celebrity, but even the several times that’s happened in my life—since I’m a huge nerd and go to comicons—I was never too stunned to speak or just look at them.
I sigh at the realization.
WillDive4Plants:
I am 34 fucking years old.
I am ridiculous. 🤦🏼♀️
Finally, the messages switch to Read and the dots do their dance for quite some time before his finally comes through.
RomanticSadistLL:
It is typical with a true submissive who desires their Dom, but submissives who are artists at heart are especially excitable when you gently kiss their mind’s eye. By nature, your imagination is stronger, and you feel what you imagine with more intensity than if someone tries to merely physically excite you.
A warning dings and pops up on my laptop, letting me know my battery is about to die, so I pull my cord out of my backpack, plug it into the outlet built into the bench, and connect it to my computer. Back on my phone, I scroll up through my messages to remind myself what he’s responding to, rereading my question about being able to feel him so strongly without him actually touching me.
WillDive4Plants:
Hm! That's actually pretty fascinating and makes perfect sense.
I adjust in my seat, and the feel of my tight compression leggings pressed against my now overly sensitive flesh is too distracting to ignore. It demands attention, yet there’s nothing I’d be able to do about it here. I’m unable to have orgasms without my vibrator, and even then, it’s a lot of fucking work to reach climax when you’re on an anti-anxiety medication. And since I don’t seem to have a filter between my wandering thoughts and my fingers, I type out a message about that conundrum without thinking and hit Send.