#WednesdayQuickies: Bound by Tinctures

Weekly, snackable erotic shorts to satisfy your mind's eye.

Made acquaintance with a peculiar man. Met him at a dungeon party and his energy struck me. Intrigued from hundreds of feet away.

After a few exchanges, I pushed past my insecurities and scheduled a session. Though it was my first time outside of a group setting, I felt comfortable enough to explore what he had to offer. Said he does this full-time, so I figured I wouldn’t be led astray.

Glad I trusted my gut.

I chose an early evening meet-up.

Pulled up to his house that sat in the middle of a cul-de-sac. It was small and peculiar. Nothing like him but made sense at the same time. Though he was odd in nature, there was nothing small about him.


I was instructed to text when I was outside so as not to bring attention. Immediately, I assumed he had a lover with no clue of his profession, but again, he could just be secretive. His neighbors did seem nosy.

I followed instructions and he texted me back saying the door was open. I gathered my thin wrap-around purse and headed inside.

I could smell an herbal concoction when I hit the threshold.

I was further intrigued.

I crossed into the vestibule and he stood behind the door. Quickly closed it behind me and reached for my shoulders. His stature towered me slightly. His neck met the back of my head. Massive hands, soft and firm. A stocky, muscular body adorned in a tunic and loose-fitted pants. Wide brim shoulders held up the free-form locs that crowned his head, decorated with cowrie shells. Mala beads gave a slight tinker around his wrists.

Smelled like vetiver.

He massaged the anxiety down and trailed his lips along the contour of my neck.

Instantly, I was wet.

Turned to face him and he lightly pressed his lips against mine. More intimate than I expected, but I realized later it was to create trust. For what he had planned, he needed my trust.

Got so lost in his essence, I didn’t realize we were in darkness. The Sun screamed its presence outside his door; yet, he managed to bring mystery into his home.


Grabbed my hand and led me through a long walkway. Hooked a left and introduced me to a dimly lit room. Sepia. Medium-sized. Enough space for some shit to happen but not too much to be overwhelmed. There were nooks and corners where a person could rest or hide, depending on the mood. Small tables that resembled altars encompassed toys, brass fixtures, and other accoutrements. Candles and some other shit I couldn’t identify.

Each of these “altars" constructed with intention. Variations of shiny, furry, hard and stoic, soft and malleable showed his personality. Diversity an understatement. The sweltering weather outside became a distant memory. Room felt like Andre 3000 in his prime. My fight or flight instincts desperately sought refuge.

There was none, not really.

Caught the sight of sultry, midnight black fluffy blankets on an adjacent bed. They were thick enough to cure the room's cold. I could feel his glares daring me to try it. Tempting me to push a boundary I didn’t know existed.

Hesitant, I inched forward towards the bed. Stared at him and inched forward simultaneously. His head would shift over his open shoulder and I’d pause like freeze tag. Stood so still, I almost forgot to breathe.

Right to the edge of the bed, I could feel the fur on my skin. My thigh began to collapse onto the blanket and then…

“The bed isn’t for you.” a deep bass interrupted the intensity.

His back still faced me, fiddling with things on Black leather table.

Spoken like a true dom.

“Before we begin; however, I need your consent. It’s the most important part of the evening. Do I have your consent?”

I stood confused for a moment. “Consent?”

“Yes. Before the evening gets… interesting, I need to know if you trust me. If you’re comfortable in this space and agree to whatever happens from this point forward.” He paused. “I can’t continue if you don’t consent. It’s the only way I operate.”

He turned to me and walked closer, “Take a minute to consider. This… is a room of pleasure. The tools you see here are how I give pleasure. Do you consent to me being your orgasmic conduit?”

Take a minute… he mouthed and returned to the Black leather table. Fixtures clanged against each other. On the table, mortar and pestle with what looked like tinctures. Nothing like I imagined or what I saw in videos.

This experience was different.


Played around with the thoughts in my head. I couldn’t get a good read on his aura but felt compelled to submit… surrender, even, to his will. Became easily bendable. Knew if I turned back now, my curiosity would eat at me. The potential scenarios my mind created grew exhausting. Minutes felt like hours and I...

Fuck it.

Let’s see where this goes.

My sense of self climbed out of its internal abyss.

“Yes,” I belted out. “Yes, I consent to this space and to you as my conduit of pleasure—”

“Dash.” He interjected.

“Yes, Dash. From now until you leave this space… and maybe even after if you behave.”

“Yes, Dash.” I honeyed.

“Good girl.” He smirked. “That sexy ass voice of yours might earn you the bed. Drink this.”

He lingered a challis in proximity to my lips and nose. Waited for me to grab it while the fragrance emitted from metal. It was strong; yet, pleasant. Couldn’t quite capture the notes but it read a mix of spice and earth.


He pushed the cup to my lips, then smirked.

The concoction stung a bit but went down smooth.

Walked around me. Those familiar hands trailed my exposed shoulders. Wore a white tube-top with a long, Black skirt that kissed the floor. Made sure I removed my shoes at the door.

No panties underneath.

His preference.

“Double-shot of Henny coupled with aromatic bitters, a tablespoon of infused honey, and two drops of a mint and citrus tincture.”

“Mixologist?” I inquired.

“Uncertified. More of an herbalist but I enjoy the dabble.” He continued to stare with a mischievous grin. “Drink up. It’s important you finish...” he paused. “I need you nimble.”


“Yes, bunny. Nimble.” The heat from his skin grew closer. “Drink me for...please?”

That demonstrative question began a series of prompts he’d continue throughout the evening. I never knew how much a simple question would arouse me, but the authority in his voice mixed with his quite compassion kept me enamored.

Took a deep breath, then let it all slide down my throat as quickly as I could without choking. He stood there and watched. Even tipped the cup a bit to help it along. I finished and instantly felt woozy.

First the warmth I searched for hit, then the coolness of the citrus-mint, then heat. Hennessy heat. Soon, I began to sweat. My eyes went glossy, then blurred. I was more relaxed. Loose. Nimble.

Attempted to widen my eyes but only saw what my lashes would allow. I heard and felt myself moan as if I were outside of myself. My limbs gained a mind of their own and moved towards him in these weird angulations. So close, yet, so far.

He watched me until I reached and fell into his arms.

“No worries bunny, the honey is infused with CBD oil. You’ll be a little loose but not incapacitated.” He carried me over the bed, laid me down and began fiddling with a couple of toys. “When you’re a bit more coherent, we’ll come up with a safe word. Ok?”

“Yes, Dash.”

“Good, baby girl.”

The wooziness began to settle and he circled back with a pair of cuffs swirling around his finger.

“Safeword, bunny… I’d like to get started.”

He leaned in and kissed my forehead.

His imprint grazed my brow.

Prompted a shiver.

“Cold… cold is the safety word.”

“Hmmm… I like simplicity. Very well. Relax, bunny...”

He reached above and cuffed my hands to an iron bar attached to the headboard. “You ok, bunny?” He moved quickly to my ankles. “Yes, Dash... I’m ok. Just a little numb.”

“That’s the oil,” he replied. “Your body is more sensitive than I anticipated. It’ll calm down soon.”

Before I knew it, my legs were spread wide and bound to a pole. Wide enough for entry and exit. He stood over me and traced a feather up and down my calves. I squirmed.

Heart raced.

Chest heaved.

He continued to trace the feather along the contour of my calves.


I squirmed at his touch.

So calculated.

Pointed my toes as I writhed in sensual agony.

He continued to taunt me. “Ticklish much?”

“Yes, Dash.”

Balled my fists attempting to grab the air and reach for something to clench. Nothing but skin. Bit down on my bottom lip to gain some sense of control but I had none.

He had it all.

“Breathe, bunny.” He smirked and began to massage the balls of my feet. “The less you resist, the easier it is for me to make you cum and I want to make you cum. Are you ok with me making you cum?”

“Yes, Dash,” I breathed in between gasps of air.

Wonder if he knew my feet were a pleasure point…

The feather’s simplistic softness triggered different feelings and emotions inside that left me wet and anxious. Nervous where he would take me. Afraid I’d look unattractive or find me unattractive the more he explored.


Maybe that was the point.

Parented my ego and told her to relax.