I had become rather cynical by the time I visited Stonehaven. I held no hope of finding anything more than an evening’s entertainment. My first impression was forgettable. The place looked rather bland. Like other BDSM clubs, it had various bondage devices scattered around, the requisite castle, and a few noobs engaged in capture roleplay. In other words, it did not seem very inspiring. Still, it was a capture roleplay sim, so it held at least a small promise of danger, a little bit of intensity perhaps. So I entered.
I wandered around for a few minutes, but no prospective captors caught my eye. Bored, I noticed a group of people gathered on a terrace beside the castle. Hoping to stay out of sight, I circled up behind them and stood at the edge of the terrace, hoping not to be noticed until I could eavesdrop for a bit.
Hello, Camryn. Welcome to Stonehaven. Oh well, so much for not being noticed.
I looked around for the person speaking to me. I saw him, prominently seated. He seemed to be holding court; others deferred to him. Among the group gathered there, he stood out. Tall, muscular but slender, with generous long hair, his avatar was thoughtfully put together. He was dressed tastefully in black leather, of good quality, with a contemporary look, not the dreary gothic sameness of most dominants.
I’m Walter, I’m a warden here, he said. If you need any help, or have any questions, just ask. I’m always available to help.
I relaxed a little. This was different from the arrogant opening lines most dominants employed.
I explained that I was new to Stonehaven. He offered his protection, and told me a little about the place. When I confessed that I was not well versed in the ways of capture roleplay, he smiled.
Do you have shackles, or something? he asked. Otherwise… it’s a little hard to capture you. He smiled. I blushed. I rummaged around in my inventory, found some, and put them on.
Now that I said that, Walter smiled, I’m going to capture you, of course. He laughed. I smiled, increasingly at ease. A friendly captor? That was unexpected. And yet I sensed something more within him, that made me think his good natured manner might have an inner strength behind it. I wondered what he was like if provoked. I decided I’d rather not find out first hand.
He reached out and grasped the shackles. There was an ominous yet satisfying snick as the locks snapped securely shut. Walter took the keys. I shivered slightly, feeling an inner thrill.
The shackles were more secure than I ever imagined. They locked not only my wrists, but my heart as well. Three years later, even when I do not wear them, I am still locked. Walter still has my keys.
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the space between 