Limp Play
by Annalise de Fere
Looking up at him, my eyelids fluttered.
“And as that enveloping warmth and relaxation reaches the top of your head, you drop.” He snapped his fingers on the last word, and the last tension in my body left, as though I were a puppet whose strings had just been cut.
“Mmmph.” Well, that wasn’t very articulate. He chuckled, a rich, velvety sound. Oh my stars and garters but I love that sound. Pleasing Sire pleases thrall. I marveled at how clear my thoughts seemed, how easy it was to think them.
“Now you might notice that you still have a thought here and there, and that’s ok. Today we’re leaving your mind aware, while your body remains so very deeply relaxed, loose, and,” he picked up my arm by the wrist, “limp. That’s right. And as your arm falls limply back to the bed, you drop,” he dropped my wrist. “Even deeper for me, good.” The last word was practically a purr. So were my few remaining thoughts.
“If you really needed to, of course you could take back your ability to move. But for now, you have entrusted that ability to me. And I have chosen to take it, to leave you powerless, helpless, motionless, still for me. That’s right. So much so that even if you try to move, you find that your muscles just relax even more instead.”
“So why don’t we test that right now? Try to move your right hand for me.” My mind pulled on my hand, struggling to lift it, but to no avail. My fingers twitched a bit, and that was the best I could do. The effort left me feeling so drowsy and floaty. I giggled, and surprised myself a bit with how soft and slow the sound was. “Good. Such a good thrall for me.”
I pulled my eyelids open one last time so I could smile up at Sire as he lowered his own body to the bed, climbing on top. “Helpless.” The touch of his body on mine, even through our clothes, was so warm and wonderful that I let out a little moan. He chuckled again. “I haven’t even done anything to that helpless body yet, thrall.” He ground his hips into mine, and I moaned again. I could feel my body wanting to move, to thrust up into his and meet him, but it remained still. I thought about putting my arms around him, and once again, nothing but a little twitch of my fingers resulted.
“Nnnng!” It was a sound of longing, desperation, joy, frustration, desire. On the outside, I was still and relaxed, looking almost asleep on the bed, but on the inside, I was building up to a frenzy of need.
“Aww, do you want something, thrall? Just tell me.” More inarticulate noises; my body was too relaxed to speak. “Aww, well if you can’t do that, just give me a nod.” I tried, I really did, but it was no use. I was almost in tears from frustration, but his control felt so good, coursing through me. “That’s ok, thrall. You can’t move or speak unless you really need to, but your subconscious can still tell me what I need to know. Do you still want what we discussed, thrall? Color check.”
“Green!” The word was out of my mouth almost before he finished, though I hadn’t consciously chosen to speak it. And that was hot for me, too.
“Green!” The word was out of my mouth almost before he finished, though I hadn’t consciously chosen to speak it. And that was hot for me, too.
“Good thrall. I’m glad to hear you’re so full of desire for me. Well then,” he ground his hips into me again, provoking another moan. “Let’s get started.”