Fetish + BDSM Fiction

Waiting for Ross (#15) Paralyzed by disbelief, Tim remained frozen in place. His vision framed by the openings of the hoods’ eye holes, he stared at the closed door of his apartment. He was certain it would reopen at any second. It had to; he was sure of it. Seconds passed, but he was afraid to move, afraid to stop looking at the door, worried that he would miss it when it opened. Sensitive to the restriction of the outer hood, its thick, compressing leather joined securely to the collar of Tim’s straitjacket, eventually Tim turned his head, straining to look into the kitchen. But the motion caused the connected encasements of leather to creak and twist slightly over the tight rubber underneath, so that the small eye holes in the rubber and leather hoods, acting like blinders, prevented a sideward view. He shifted his splayed feet, to turn his entire body, and peered straight on, into the kitchen. He shuffled slowly forward until he could see it: The microwave clock showed 8:02 PM ...