Unbound: Forbidden Desires

1 | Depths of Desire

𝓘 wouldn't say I was obsessed with porn. I could stop watching such filth at any moment, but I just didn't want to. I'd gone years as a celibate virgin, and the world had so much to offer, so much to see.

I was surprised to find that sex was so much more than kissing or lightly touching in my books. Don't get me wrong, Jeremy and I had made out to the point where I felt things. Felt hot. Felt achy. He'd touch me over my clothes, make me touch him over his clothes, and those nights had been so hot, but it paled in comparison to the porn that played on my screen.

It was so graphic, detailed, rough, and there were soooo many genres.

But nothing caught my attention as much as BDSM. There was something about a woman surrendering herself to a man she completely trusted, to bring her into a primal type of pleasure. Where he controlled her orgasms, each sensation. Until she was pleading and begging for release, eager just for even the briefest touch of him.

I loved watching how the men got these beautiful women so worked up. How they skillfully brought them to the edge, to the point of tears, only to unwind them and start again, working her up, and back down, up, to a point of no return, and then, the relief that swarmed these women's faces really struck me.

And it seemed to strike the men as well, seeing as they became unhinged, taking out their frustrations out on their willing partners, as they eagerly, enthusiastically, took it, as she finally got the pleasure she craved. Her moans, her screams, her face, her whimpers—all evidence of the intense pleasure she felt, of the intense pleasure he made her feel.

I wanted that.

I wanted that type of torture badly.

I wanted a man to tie me up, to pinch me, spank me, bring me to the edge repeatedly, before finally granting me release from the torture.

It was the subject of my fantasies. It was the theme of my dreams and I swore that in the darkness of my slumber, that my body would travel elsewhere. To a place free of judgment. A place where I could be unhinged.

Since the day I'd opened that door, nightly these dreams would come to swallow me whole. I could feel large male hands around me. Dark shadows gripping and pulling me, yet try as I might, I could never control it. The shadows would eat at me. Their pleasure hurt. They laughed and tried to tear me away, just as they were now.

And the initial thrill would always turn into fear. Those wicked things were going to kill me if I didn't wake up, and I could never wake up. It was always so hard.

Perhaps these dark shadows were the manifestations of my guilt. Guilt for acting so hedonistic. For turning my back on my beliefs.

I tumbled in the darkness, tried to get away, but the invisible hands held me down, pushed me, groped me, and just when I thought they had me, a red shadow appeared. Like a mist in the distance, it grew closer and closer, vanquishing my shadowy tormentors.

"Red."

The shadow grew massive, a familiar tall misty cloak of red that had been visiting my dreams for the past couple of years. Around the time my desires started to become uncontrollable. I'd teased Jeremy so often then that we almost broke our vows.

But he knew I wouldn't give, not without a ceremony or a ring. Turns out Jeremy didn't need any of that to indulge himself.

The dark shadows disappeared and I felt myself calm down. Manifesting myself on a nice warm beach. I was back in control of my dreams and the red shadow stood beside me.

"I've had a thought, Red." I sat down. "I think those shadows are my guilt and you are enlightenment. The part of me that realizes that there is nothing wrong with what I want."