Chains, Whips, and Roses | Zarry • BDSM |

Chains: Un

Down on the West Coast they got a sayin'

"If you're not drinkin' then you're not playin'."

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Zayn

The ripples that are caused by us in the stream of life when we make a decision, are unpredictable. They could be cut short, or could be never ending.

The affiliation between life and choices are always over looked. You never take into countability the wrong that could come with a simple decision.

One act in your past could change your future, either for the worse or the better. Only with time, you will be able to see the full effect.

It's been an approximate six years since I've made my choice, and unlike many, who's choices make a small impact on their lives, mine has made one for the long run.

What makes mine so grave, was that I choose something that will not just impact my daily life, but my sex life as well - therefore me as a whole was impacted.

When one hears the terms dominant or submissive, they think of how that associates with chains, whips, gag balls, and all of those dark sensual affiliations.

Or as in a gay relationship, one thinks of how a submissive is the 'bottom' and the dominant is the 'top'.

Well, in my case my submission applies to both those things. Six years ago I agreed to trying out the promiscuous life style, of both darkness and intimacy, known as BDSM.

At first I was intimidated by such life style, but as time went by, I grew comfortable with it. The style put me in a position where, ironically, I felt safe.

It came to me as something that I would be able to do once, and quit - but just like a drug, I became addicted.

I messed around with it for far to long, that I became addicted to it. The control someone has over you is exhilarating and I simply had to have more.

So I made the decision to keep living as a full blown submissive. I lost my old friends, and I gain some new ones. The new ones brought something, that I have never experienced before.

Danger.

They brought so much danger upon me, that I had to leave the city. I fled and never plan on going back.

My new friends where in the human trafficking industry. People were distributed by them, for other peoples' sexual desire, or simply for their everyday needs.

How did I become entwined in such a mess of friends, I have no clue. But I do know that I'll be a hypocrite if I say they're disgusting, they're involved in trafficking humans, and I'm involved in the art of rough sex.

So as I should of done way earlier, I fled the city, fled the state, and moved to New York to finish my college studies, which I dropped out of because of my last "master".

As said before, I don't plan on returning. Ever.

"Come on, Zayn. Too many drinks, let's get 'cha home, yes?", my friend Niall said as he tried to take me out of the chockablock club. I was far to intoxicated to be able to comply, so I just resisted and shook my head no.

I could feel myself getting drowsy. Fuck. Why did I drink so much. Oh wait, I know why. College life isn't as easy as it is made to seem. The consistency of my daily routine, waking up, go to class, study hard, either fail or pass exams, cry due to the immense amount of stress, repeat; is just too much for me - so drowning myself in heavy amounts of alcohol seems like pretty good idea, if it makes me forget at least a moment of stress.

Niall pushed me out of the club, seemed as if everything was becoming nothing but a blur to me, so I was slowly becoming absent minded, it seemed as if I complied to Niall's demand - when in all reality it was just the booze wanting to take its toll on me and make me pass out, it made me weak, so Niall was able to get me out of the club.

As we were getting closer and closer to my car, the alcohol got the best of me. My muscles went into a dormant state, I was at the brink of passing out. Niall just sighed in both annoyance and frustration.

He tried picking me up, but he was to weak. Now some worry was brewing within him. He looked around for help... No one.

As he was about to completely freak out, a man came and ask if we needed help. Me being intoxicated out of my mind, could only listen to and see what was happening. Niall explained to the man what was happening, and the man stared at me.

His bulbous emerald eyes were stunning. He chuckled and cute dimples formed on his cheeks, I tried to ignore the fact that he's probably laughing at me.

In a swift movement he carried me up with ease, as if I weighted nothing to him. He laid me on the back seats of the car, his eyes never leaving mine.

My eyesight was darkening, his eyes were the only thing I wanted to keep seeing.

As I slowly slipped out of consciousness, his aesthetic emerald eyes burned as an image inside of my head, and just like that, I was consumed by darkness, and left with nothing but a mental image.

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