you're too young & eager to love

I am going to write alien sci-fi BDSM erotica. Why? Because I can.

I was going to make this an actual piece, full of length (pardon the pun), and some substance. But then I got lazy. So it's just the opening bit.

I really have no idea what to tag this.

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The first time you saw your intended it was through a blindfold. It had been a pretty gold thing, tied around your eyes. You could see through it, but it had made the world a dreamlike magical place, everything hazed in gold. Even though you had worn such blindfolds many times before, you always loved the sense of release that accompanied the wearing of them, the new level of abandon.

Gracefully, you had held your hands in the small of your beautifully arched back, your calves mercilessly unbound to the cool marble floor. You had been kneeling in this way for over an hour, waiting, your thighs tight with tension beneath you, your finely shaped arms aching. The flush of dusky red on your cheeks and down the contours of your jaw exposed your discomfort. (It had always been hard for you to hide your color, to mask your feelings. You were envious of those who could and the blessed privacy it afforded them.)

He was 16 then, but you knew clearly, by the first sound of his voice, that you were his and he was yours. He was still a boy, but he had a man’s voice. A grumble and purr like honey spreading through rocks.

“Such a wealth of hair. She hardly seems naked, does she?”

You stole a gilded glance at him, this boy that was your future. He had broad shoulders but was shorter than the groom he stood beside, a light-haired ausiraen with green and blue pigments on her finely angled face. You remember thinking how hot he must have been in his jacket, fresh from the landing docks, thick auburn hair short but long enough to be windblown, tousled on top. His nose was a bit too large for his face, and he had a woman’s mouth, lips that were full. Bee stung. You lowered your eyes behind the blindfold when he came forward. He had even, sure steps. The type of confidence standard in royal youth. He smelled like the stars, or what you thought stars must have smelled like at the time. A scent of molten gold and dust.

You had kept your back arched, your dainty hands held so securely behind you. You were well trained, after all. You didn’t even move when he was close enough to touch you or when he bent down to place his mouth against the top of your cheek. His breath was warm on your ear, and the steadiness of his voice was in direct contrast to the uneven shuttering of your heart. “When you are mine, I will tie up your hair to show off that pretty neck of yours. As well as everything else.”