"Are you ready?" I ask.
"Yes," you reply, your voice steady yet betraying a hint of nervousness. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Yes," you say again, more firmly this time. Once the hood is on, there's no turning back. A twinge of apprehension stirs in your stomach, making the situation all too real. Although you had discussed this night many times, fantasizing about the moment, facing the reality sends a shiver down your spine.

You look down at the black leather hood cradled in your hands, its surface smooth and cold to the touch. You've been fidgeting with it nervously ever since it was handed to you, the weight of your decision growing heavier with each passing second. The hood is designed to cover your eyes and nose, leaving your mouth exposed, a deliberate choice that sends a cascade of thoughts racing through your mind. Slipping it on, you know it will lace at the back, effectively plunging you into darkness, muffling the sounds of the world around you.

The anticipation of what's to come is palpable, a mixture of fear and excitement coursing through your veins. This moment, once eagerly awaited, now looms before you like a threshold to the unknown. The scent of leather fills your nostrils, a constant reminder of the choice you're about to make. With a deep breath, you slip the hood over your head. You feel someone move behind you, the laces start to tighten, and the hood conforms snugly to your face. The smell of leather intensifies, enveloping you as the material presses against your skin. Breathing through your nose becomes a challenge, and you realize you must breathe through your mouth once the hood is fully tightened.

"There," I say, voice muffled, as if you're underwater. "All locked in."

The world outside the hood dims, sounds becoming distant echoes. This new reality, defined by darkness and muffled sounds, marks the beginning of something unknown, something thrilling yet terrifying.

"Stand up," comes the command, and you immediately rise from the chair, your posture straightening as though pulled by an invisible string. The fabric of your flowing sundress brushes against your skin, a stark contrast to the lacy black undergarments hugging your body beneath. The black bra, g-string, and garter belt, each were chosen with meticulous care, following the instructions you received before leaving the hotel.

As the moment unfolds, a flicker of concern crosses your mind, did the Uber driver notice the unusual ensemble beneath the innocent facade of your dress? This thought, however, is fleeting, quickly overshadowed by the sharp reality of the moment.

Without warning, you feel the crack of a cane against your backside. The suddenness of the contact shatters the cascade of your thoughts, anchoring you firmly in the present.
"I said take off the dress," comes a voice, a command you had completely missed, your mind lost in a whirlwind of thoughts and the disorienting darkness of your new world.

Obediently, you lift the dress over your head, revealing the carefully chosen lingerie underneath. A wave of exposure washes over you as the cool air brushes against your skin. An instinctive desire to cover yourself surges, but you resist, maintaining your stance at attention, your senses sharpening as you listen for the next command through the muffled reality of the hood.

You feel a leather collar being wrapped around your neck, its buckle securing it behind you. The familiar click of a leash being attached follows, a sound you've heard before but never in such a context. This experience begins to reshape your senses. The hood and the enveloping darkness force your hearing, to become acutely heightened despite the muffling, compensating for your lost vision.

"Come, it's time," you hear, feeling a gentle tug on the leash guiding you forward. Your first steps are tentative, each one a test of trust in the absence of sight. The have the sensation of moving down a long corridor, reminiscent of the path you took to enter the building an hour earlier.

Gradually, the murmur of voices begins to filter through the darkness, growing from a whisper to a cacophony of conversations and laughter. The sound of a party in full swing envelops you, making it impossible to gauge the number of attendees. The voices merge into an indistinguishable blend of sound, heightening your sense of vulnerability.

Finally, you come to a stop.

"This is your last chance. Do you still want to do this? From here, there's no going back," the voice cautions, its seriousness cutting through the noise.

A torrent of concerns floods your mind. What if someone recognizes you? Yet, the rational part of you counters, hidden beneath the hood and far from home, recognition seems unlikely.
"Yes," you assert, your voice steady, a declaration of readiness despite the whirlwind of emotions churning inside you.

"Remember the rules," the voice continues, authoritative yet reassuring. "I am in control; you will do exactly as I say. You do not speak unless spoken to. You will refer to me as 'Sir.' We've discussed your hard limits. Nothing beyond those will happen. If at any point you want to stop, just yell 'cornflakes.' That's your safe word. You'll be escorted back to your room, dressed, and put in an Uber back to the hotel. And you will never see or hear from me again."

The finality of the statement sends a shiver down your spine, yet it's accompanied by an undeniable thrill. This is a journey of your choosing, a step into the unknown fuelled by a potent mix of apprehension and exhilaration.

"I’m ready," you say, more to yourself than anyone else, affirming your commitment to the path you've chosen.

Then, a series of knocks echo against a steel door, bang, bang, bang. The ambient party noise dwindles to hushed whispers, and you sense the door opening with a creak. Pulled forward, you step into a room where the air feels charged, stale yet alive with the presence of unseen onlookers. The door shuts behind you with a definitive clang, sealing you inside.

Led to the center of the room, you stand acutely aware of every breath and whisper swirling around you. Though unable to determine the composition of the audience, the occasional feminine voice floats through the air, adding to the mystery of the gathering. Cloaked in the dark embrace of your lingerie, you've never felt more exposed, the weight of countless eyes upon you making your skin prickle with vulnerability.

The anticipation of what comes next hangs heavy in the air, a palpable force that draws you ever deeper into the moment.

“it's time to show all this good people how depraved you really are”