Be Careful What You Wish For (11 page)

Pain jolted her out of her reverie, her senses confused by the unexpected mix of pain working in tandem with the pleasure the quivering of the eggs gave inside. But the pain was winning. The whip struck again... and again... and again. She wanted it to stop. She needed it to continue. Rivulets of tears flowed down her cheeks and yet she remained deeply aroused.

Shadow smoothed the whip between her buttocks, holding it, feeling her tremble in anticipation of what she thought would come.

But he was playing with her, teasing her emotions. Two fingers entered her anus, setting a rhythm of their own. His fingers flooded with her juices, and he inserted a second vibrator, watching the way it lifted her over the edge and into a place he could no longer reach or share with her.

He stood back, knowing she was utterly disorientated. He made no further effort to touch, to hold. Instead he let feelings take over, leading her deeper and deeper into a place where only the truly submissive might go; the place known by the few as sub-space. And he allowed those feelings to go unchecked, to carry her on this special journey within.

Finally he removed sodden leather from around her mouth, the plug, and the silver metal ‘O'. She moaned softly, still in a place far off, deep within, unaware of her surroundings and a part of, yet apart from the now subdued writhing as her body grew still. He proceeded gently to take away all instruments and clamps and eggs, until she lay exhausted, still feeling the sensation even though all reason for it had gone.

Tenderly he carried her to the bathroom, where he gently washed her, and then to the bed where they lay naked together. Still deeply entrenched in sub-space, floating on air, not wanting to leave the peace and the beauty she found there, her body still ached with need. It was as if all the years of past pain when it was taken from her, when her body simply shut down because it just couldn't take any more, seemed to have left her with an unquenchable thirst. It was madness. The thought entered her mind and then slipped away. She didn't know. She didn't understand. She didn't want to understand. Nothing really mattered any more.

Shadow led her hands to his cock, moving her head so her mouth touched its tip. After all the activity of the day, he was excited. The beast inside him still roared, needing to take, craving to be satisfied. The sub in him had vanished.

She pulled away as if realising his intention. But she had no strength. She was weak as a newborn kitten. He grabbed her hair, holding it tight, pushing her mouth where he needed it to be. This was his time, damn it! His time. She couldn't have all the fun. It wasn't fair. Besides, this too was a part of her learning. He would show her, and through his teaching get what he most desired.

Despite herself her tongue tentatively reached out to explore, flitting in and out as she tasted the first oozing of pre-cum. Then, more because he refused to release her head, or perhaps because she wasn't yet fully understanding what was happening to her, wrapped in her own cocoon; she accepted the inevitable and took it fully in her mouth. His cock hardened. That was better. She was learning. She needed to give as he had, to know when it was time to give in. He pulled her around and on top of him. He too had been in sub-space. He knew that place well. He wasn't sure how deep she was, but she could remain there for hours or mere moments. There was no telling. And yet, surprising even to him, she seemed to sense, to feel, to experience something of what was happening to him. It was therefore a pleasure shared as a climax unexpectedly took them as one, raging like a giant ocean deep and wide and spreading, covering everything as it clawed its way towards the shore.

For an hour or two she lay in the arms that held, satisfied, completely spent. Slowly she was emerging from her cocoon to reality, a smile etched on her face and her body naked, rejecting the confines of the duvet. Somehow she knew she'd discovered her wings. She knew something of the power within. And she wanted more of the experience, to learn to ride it and to fly, to know the inner freedom that comes with being a true slave, held and protected in controlling love.

Yet as her thoughts began to reassemble a small part of her was afraid. What might being a true slave actually mean? What would be demanded of her? And more than anything else, was she worthy of the task?

The guilt, the excitement, churned her stomach, setting her insides on fire with a burning desire and a need to know, to be, to act out fantasies which were now a living aching part of her day-to-day need.

Still the liquid of desire seeped from her. It didn't go away or let her be. She wriggled and squirmed, inviting the delicious sensation to lick the lips of her vagina, accepting the tingling joy which even now spread through her body. From the top of her head to the tips of her toes she felt
woman
... naked, desirable, vulnerable, liberated, free, while her nipples stood firm and proud, pushing themselves forward to be fondled and held.

A smile played around the lips of Shadow. He caught her body lifting towards him, butting gently against his side. Reaching across he pinioned her arms before her hands might snake their way between her legs and finger the urge to let loose the new set of swirling emotions inside.

Again he took her. He knew he shouldn't, but what the hell! She was there for the taking. Richard wouldn't be pleased, but she was his charge right now. That was the arrangement. He would blame it on the animal instinct in him, the hunter needing his prey, the dark side, the switch which could so easily take the upper hand.

And yet even the beast could surprise him at times and be gentle; the sub resurfacing in a moment of tenderness. Bodies gelled, caught in the ebb and flow of movement, acting out their dance, reaching in and through to a place where souls touch and a true specialness is borne.

The scene ended. The curtain closed. And the two slept till dawn and the beginnings of a new day.

 

 

Weeks a
nd months merged. One day ended, another began. Time had no meaning any more.

Abi didn't miss the outside world. It was a relief to simply be, to have someone else take control, of herself, her life, her everything. For within that control she was beginning to feel a new sense of being. It was liberating to break out from the chains that had bound her, made up of all those things other people expected her to be. Here she was happy, she was free. It was empowering rather than restrictive. Nothing was ever taken from her. The person she was became enhanced, a chrysalis emerging into a butterfly, struggling still to find its wings, wanting to fly.

Each new dawn she rejoiced in the emergence of the self that had hidden in the shadows for too long. And oh, how much more sensual she felt. It was as if an umbilical cord had been cut, allowing her the freedom to let go of her old life, and like a blank white canvas, enjoy the different tastes and smells and colours this new life had to offer.

She was protected, guided, loved. Each day was special, filled with new adventures. Every moment had meaning. She was learning so much. Her instruction and its effects came in the moves she made, the way her body altered radically in appearance. And yet nothing had altered within. She was a submissive. And in being allowed to develop that side of her nature as a gift she showed a radiance, an energy, an inner light never seen or experienced before.

Hours were spent in tuition. She was pushed to the limit and often beyond, guided by Shadow's expert hand. Often he shared her nights to compliment the days, and to soften the blows. It was a strict regime, of which the hardness and softness were an integral part of the pain-pleasure experience. She could be touched and felt, held close and loved. At other times she would feel the keenness of the crop, the slap of a hand or paddle, the relentless unforgiving flogger. And as day merged into night and night into day, the soft and the hard became one, each an essential part of the whole.

She'd been given space and time to talk with family, to send emails and to speak on the phone. They knew she was happy and cared for, although unaware of the way she was living. She suppressed their curiosity, sharing stories about the island that was home and which she had grown to love.

Early evenings and Sundays she spent in the bay, exploring hidden paths through the rocks, making for secret places where she could be alone to dream. Her favourite times were sunrise and sunset, at the beginning and ending of each day, watching the pale orange ball of fire hang low in the sky before reaching to kiss the horizon and another day or night good morning and goodbye.

One morning late on in the year, with a frost lying crisp and cold outside layering the rocks with patches of gleaming ice, she woke to feel a new sense of excitement. Something was different. It was a feeling she'd not known before. Around her there was an air of expectancy, as if something very special was about to take place.

Shadow's eyes watched more keenly. At breakfast he lifted back her shoulders, pushing her breasts more erect, manipulating the still shy nipple. He responded to her puzzled looks with a smile and unnatural glean in his eye. Without explaining he proceeded to put her through her paces in the gym with vigour, expecting even more from her than before. Sometimes his actions bordered on cruelty. But today he seemed to take a perverse pleasure in wanting not just more, but different. She feared he would go too far and hurt her. Where was Dream Catcher? Was he aware of this trait in her mentor, the man he trusted with his charge?

But just as events reached a peak his gentle side would show. He positioned her on the couch, raised the rods and proceeded to hook each leg apart. It had happened too many times before for her not to be aware of the procedure. She held her wrists out for the cuffs to be strapped in place, before he lifted them above her head to be secured, leaving her spread-eagled and helpless, open and available to him.

‘This will be a thorough examination, so prepare yourself.'

His manner became clinical, more so than usual. Something was definitely happening, but she dare not question or ask more. He started in the usual way, inspecting her scalp and hairline, looking into her eyes, feeling her throat muscles to extend her mouth. But he made no move to use the shaped ‘O', to clamp her nipples, or to insert anything in any part of her body.

He brought a small rubber hose which, when linked to the nearby tap, produced a spray of water. He washed her groin and between the lips of her labia. Then he creamed and shaved her, before releasing her restraints to turn her onto her front and wash between her buttocks and anus.

The warm waters of the enema flooded her. At first it was pleasant, but then as the tube was removed she wanted to explode, to expunge what was still held there. She grappled with the urge to simply let go, holding her pelvic muscles taut, her body rigid, butting her bottom up and down off the couch in a supreme effort of will.

He watched her struggle while she watched him watching her. He was enjoying the way her body writhed in torment, and he knew she would hold it until the dish was in place and nothing was spilled.

But why was this so important today?

Finally the relief came; the dish was installed under her and then it and its contents removed. He cleaned and pampered, and with expert hands used oils to massage and manipulate, paying special attention to her back, firming her muscles, creating delicious waves of tingling pulses in and through her crotch. With hands cradling her buttocks and thumbs inserted, he then spent time pulling and stretching and widening. It was not unpleasant, in truth quite the reverse. But perversely, knowing his penchant for cruelty, she in turn would play her own game, hiding what was truly pleasurable, masking her feelings to confuse him. Entrenched in control, it gave her the one small degree of independence that neither of her Masters knew she had. And it was so alien to her submissiveness that it amused her, even after the activity was over. She would go over and over it in her mind, thinking up innovative ways she could improve on this small and yet significant hold she had over them.

An electric heat had set her impulses soaring. Her pussy was on fire. She had such a need, and knew Shadow would notice. She watched him closely as she lay on the couch while he made hot sweet tea to feed her from the cup, refusing to let her hands near. And when she was finished he stood at the foot of the couch, watching her.

‘I'll come for you in a little while, and you'll not rise from where you are. Instead you will clear your mind and lie here to await my return.' He left her to her own thoughts.

He was acting weird, not his normal self at all. He hadn't picked her up on what she knew he'd seen, and that was so unlike him. She was beginning to know him well, although still unable to judge his sudden change of mood. Was something wrong? He'd given no hint or word of reassurance. But then again, he didn't have to. It was not her place to question. She had but to trust, to obey.

She stretched, her arms, her legs. She wanted desperately to masturbate, to make herself cum. The need was driving her crazy. But although he was gone something stopped her. She had become aware of a feeling that Shadow was aware of what she was doing behind closed doors. It was like a power he had over her, and when the beast in him came through he took delight in taunting her with what he knew, knowing she had no inkling how.

She closed her eyes, trying to block out her need, allowing thoughts to wander to that place where dreams are created and born.