Reality in the Twilight Zone

And he'd done exactly that, tidied up in no time. Drying his hands with a paper towel after he'd washed the plates and mugs, dried them and placed them in their proper places, he suddenly asked her,

"D'you remember once I told you that the nose ring Indian women wear is a physical mark of belonging, a sort of brand?"

Of course she remembered.

"And you remember what you had said?"

She did.

"I'll be a minute, I want to show you something" he'd said, and walked out, leaving her bemused.

He returned almost immediately, placing a heavy ring on the table between them.

Snama picked it up. It was solid gold, thick and heavy, with an oval face, the letter "N" in sharp bas relief on it in an exquisite gothic style.

"What d'you think of it?" he asked.

"It's beautiful. And quite expensive"

"Try it, it'll probably fit your ring finger"

Amazed, she tried. It fit.

Before she could say anything, another bolt from the blue.

"It's yours to wear. And I intend branding you with it."

For a moment she was struck speechless. Then . . .

"Bbb .. Brand me? me?"

"Yes." His voice was soft, very low. "Just like I've branded your soul with myself, your body with my body, your kuss with my lann."

Snama looked into his eyes for a long while, unflinching at his deep, dark gaze, then quietly said.

"Just tell me one thing Neshe?"

"Ask?"

"What makes you so sure of yourself?"

"You."

There dawned a hint of a smile on her lips. When she spoke, it was almost a whisper.

"And what makes you so sure of me?"

"Us." He answered.

She reflected on that for a moment. Then asked, again in a soft, almost inaudible whisper.

"And what is Us?"

For many a moment he just gazed deeply into her eyes, his own almost burning with a dark flame. When he spoke, his voice was soft and sure.

"Remember the day I told you that if we were to turn around your name it would become "A Man's"?"

She nodded assent.

"What did you say?"

Again, that hint of a smile.

"I'd said that is the essence of me . . . for man, I'm woman, for my beloved, I'm comfort, solace, and warmth . . . for my lover I'm desire and satiation."

"And you know for me you're all this"

She suddenly burst out laughing.

"You know Neshe, this is the most arrogant proposal I've ever heard"

"I know." He said softly. "And I also know you value it."

She looked into his eyes unflinchingly, for a long moment. Then she spoke, softly

"You know . . . when we'd first met, I'd thought I'd penetrated this strange man in a far off land. I didn't quite realize it was I who was being penetrated."

Neshe rose, took a step to close the distance between them, bent and lightly kissed her forehead. With his lips cool on her skin he whispered

"I'll brand you on five places Snama, on the small of your back, on both your buttocks, and on either side of your yoni."

A hot and cold thrill ran down her spine right down to her anus. Almost in a whisper, she said,

"The decision is made."

"Yes, it is made. It was made the day you told me you'd rechristened me Teags after I sent you that poem Succubus."

Her arms went round him, she raised her mouth to his, kissing him viciously. Then with a surprising vehemence she said,

"You frighten me with your knowing of me."

Neshe just recaptured her lips in his mouth, hungrily.

_____________________

Succubus

You

Who knows that many secrets are told untold Some mysteries, for certain minds themselves unfold Some moments often a lifetime within them hold Claim one's thoughts and make one bold Words can sear and brand one's soul Distances span, and make one whole

You

Who knows that while in their place the stars are set Me, you, and us you will never forget Never, ever, shall leave me behind Whatever else lives in your mind Your Lord to call me there lives no need Though each on the other, we do feed

You

Who knows that you have a found a way In the dead of night and heat of day To ever and anon, always be In my mind, and within me Your words, you know, make my manhood rise Though my gaze has yet to penetrate your eyes

You

Who knows that it's not only arms that do bind Imperishable bonds are created by the mind Words do touch, kiss and caress The body may suffer distance's duress You, sweet Succubus, you certainly know In my thoughts, my blood, you ever flow!

Part 8 . . .Reality in the Twilight Zone

The branding had been short, swift and painless. After desensitizing Snama's skin with ether, Neshe had marked her body with the signet in the five places, again spraying the spots with ether and then rinsing them out with chilled alcohol. Finally, a rinse of ice cold rose water, and the deed was done.

The emotional searing, however, had drained Snama. When Neshe had given the brands the final irrigation with rose water, she had hidden herself in his chest, her body slightly atremble.

He had soothed her with kisses, his fingers gently stroking her hair, till the trembling had subsided.

"Do you feel any pain, any burning sensation?" he had asked.

"No." She had responded firmly. "But I feel weak, exhausted, hungry."

"Feed on me, " he had said, rising to full stature, his arms around her body guiding her to a kneeling position between his widespread feet. "Feed on me darling, and your strength will return."

It had happened exactly as he had said.

With his phallus in her mouth, Snama had felt connected to the sources of his being, partaking of him. Each passing second animated her more. Her ministrations engendered a massive upheaval in him. He thrust uncontrollably into her mouth again and again, his hands clasped on either side of her face, his grip hurtful. Snama, however, drew strength from the primeval pulsing of his lingam, and persisted till she sucked the vital sap out of him.

Even then she did not let go, feeling him soften, and nurtured him back to a steely hardness with the warm and velvety caresses of her mouth and tongue. When she was certain she had returned him his power, she rose, lying down on the bed . . .

"Now" she called him. Softly, in need... "Please. Take me Neshe . . ."

It was then that he had entered her yoni again, taking her from behind, her buttocks fitting into his groin, his arms around her, and it was thus that both of them had drifted into a sweet slumber.

__________________

Part 9 . . . Reality in the Twilight Zone

A sudden, frenetically insistent spasming of Snama's yoni around his phallus made Neshe withdraw and thrust back hard into her, again and again, his groin smashing against her buttocks punishingly.

His hand found her belly, ascended on to her breasts, pulling at them at them roughly as he thrust into her again and again.

Snama strained back at him with every thrust, moaning his name, her voice rising as the turmoil in her being spiraled into a crescendo.

Neshe became even more vicious.

And then something snapped.

Snama became absolutely limp, still.

Neshe continued thrusting still, wanting to immerse himself entirely into her. He pumped into her with increasing force, till he himself burst, his lips seeking her shoulder, his teeth sinking in.

"Ahhh!" she cried out softly, gasping at the lust within her own flesh. Her head rolled first away from the pain, and breathing deeply, she accepted it, as a gift from her lover.

For a moment in time, she was suspended; he was pushing her with his ferocity...pushing her, to reach beyond her fear.

Under the pain of his teeth, she transformed, from prey to beast. He awoke the sleeping tigress in her.

She turned her face to his mouth, his teeth brutally close to tearing her skin.

She licked out, and touched his lips with her tongue. She licked them, softened his mouth, his teeth losing their grip as his tongue sought to meet hers. She kissed him using feline power, licking him, and loving him with her tongue.

Here, her ferocity began.

Her power first came from her mouth. She sucked it from his tongue, as though this tongue was the very organ that had just so ravishingly filled her.

She sucked his tongue as if to make it cum into her. Her hands clasped his face in a tender grip.

He became lost in her mouth, in the passion with which she held his tongue. He began to penetrate it deeper toward her throat, and she instinctively bit him.

While he drew back in surprise, she pulled away quickly, rolling her body to cover his.

Taking his hands in hers she stretched his arms out to the side. She hooked her feet around his ankles and parted their legs together. Her skin met his at every possible point.

She was on top.

She kissed him again, this time slipping her tongue over his lips. It was the sweet delicate kiss of satisfaction.

Snama then took her mouth to Neshe's right ear, nibbled on the lobe, and whispered into it

"Thank you. Thank you so much."

Her hands pulled his flat and she stroked circles in his palms. At the same time she began to nibble and suck at his neck. She dragged her fingertips along the taut musculature of his arms until she reached his firm shoulders.

Pushing herself further now down his body, Snama took an exploration of Neshe with her sensitive lips. Reaching his small hard nipples she sucked and licked as a kitten, first at the left and then quickly attaching to right and dining there.

Once satisfied by Neshe's response that she had lit those two flames Snama proceeded downward, her hands caressing his sides, her tongue trailing downward, discovering his navel and swirling there in two sensual sweeps.

Kneeling up now between his legs, she looked down to Neshe.

He locked his eyes on her and she held his gaze. Indeed, her eyes did flare as she smiled at him and smoothed his abdomen with her fingertips, brushing the warmth of his naked skin -- over, and over, and over again.

Without removing her eyes from his, she let her hands slide onto the flats of his hips and down in between his thighs. She smiled into his eyes with a wicked playfulness, running her hands quickly under his thighs to beneath his knees. She lifted his legs forcing his knees up and apart.

Never leaving her hold on his eyes, she slowly bent herself in half, lowering her mouth to his spent penis. Finally, she closed her eyelids. She expected no arousal; this was an exercise of completion. It was a finale, an absolution of his parts with her mouth.

With him open, she was able to access all the reaches of his privacy and in sensory delight she lingered there, with her hands and mouth, chewing, licking and sucking on him like a toy.

When she had finished her play, she, being so very satisfied, pushed his legs back to the bed. Curling up in between them, she nuzzled her cheek into the soft naked bed of his pubis and fell asleep with him gently stroking her hair.

___________________

Part 10 . . . Reality in the Twilight Zone

Was it one night?

Or was it a thousand and one nights?

Or a thousand and one nights encapsulated in one?

This was the question that confronted both of them in the morning, each to their own perspective.

It all appeared surreal, like a dream that had overstayed from slumber into wakefulness.

Except that the brands on Snama's body were very real.

And if possible, even more the brands on her heart and soul.

_________________

Snama

ON A PLANE TO INDIA

She had never lost the hennaed hand with which she had entered him. It had been an unwitting penetration, an honest deliverance.

The poem, she had destructed, in a fire cleansing, something she was wont to do.

She could not remember it.

But she could, perhaps, reconstruct it.

Some words exact, some words new.

All words appropriate.

SHALL I?

Shall I stroke your ego with hands adept, or hold restraint with words well kept? Shall I invite you close, bring your manhood to rise, or hold you afar with the blue of my eyes? Shall I hold myself open, reveal secrets untold, or leave you to watch my own mystery unfold?

Snama knew it continued, and remembered the direction, in fact, the destination, but felt it best now not to recall. She did not need to, since she already had his response, in Succubus, engraved on her heart.

_______________________________

It was the immediate destination that was on Snama's mind now, with the information from the Captain that it was one half hour before landing.

Snama rose from her seat and took her bag from the overhead compartment, retreating to the restroom to freshen and change.

She stripped herself completely of her comfortable travel clothes, and washed with the soft cloth she pulled from her bag. Once cleansed, she dusted with baby powder, then placed kisses of fragrance in her most sensual places.

Never one for facade, she applied just enough makeup to highlight her features; darkening her lashes, shading her eyes, and lightly blushing her cheeks. Finally, unsheathing her lipstick, she stroked a soft pink glimmer across her lips.

She stood naked, gazing at herself in the mirror. The next step would be an important one, a statement she wanted to make -- the donning of the sari.

Snama put on her blouse and the petticoat followed. Lastly, she wrapped the sari around her body as the shopkeeper who had sold it to her had showed her. Her mind wandered to when and how she might become unwrapped.

Once again Snama took in her reflection in the mirror. She had not pre-decided whether to wear her hair up or down, and played with it now both ways. Finally, she decided to pin it up.

She could let her hair down later.

_______________________________

Preparation

[MANDALA: A schematized representation of the cosmos, chiefly characterized by a concentric organization geometric shapes, each of which contains an image of a deity or the attributes of a deity. A symbol representing the effort to reunify the self.] She had ventured across the world to seek the reunification of her self.

Snama, not being exactly standard, had not checked travel guides before heading to India. Instead, she pulled off her book shelf her good memory of India . . . "Mandala" by Pearl S. Buck.

Nothing along the way had disappointed her, nor surprised her. Neshe, was as intense and dark as she had found him to be in chats and correspondence. She felt an immediate captivation, or perhaps an affirmation of a captivation long held.

Lusciousness. In him, and in his home. A delight to her senses, a splendid mixture of unfamiliar and incongruently strange familiarity.

Strange, but so good.

Looking out onto the rooftops, Snama could only think "Buck has written this . . . us. This moment." She inhaled the air of Neshe and felt a deep and blessed rush of timelessness.

In such timelessness, and in order to reunify herself, Snama submitted to Neshe.

He slowly and effectively prepared her. A proud offering her submission, and a daring trust to give it.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Perhaps that was it. He dared her.

When she first met him in chat, she was charmed by his elegance and intellect. She had always enjoyed the opportunity to speak with him.

She had a web site of writing he had read and discussed with her, and also sent her writings of his own. These writings were the basis of many satisfying conversations – and it was in these conversations he had revealed to her the sensuousness of his nature, as well of his native tongue, Punjabi.

While these chats often included an insinuation or innuendo of sexuality, she felt it more the natural play that occurs at the meeting of a man and a woman; a gentle charming, to open each other and add enough intimacy for deep and honest discussion.

But for that undercurrent, they were platonic, respectful and professional with each other.

Then, he sent his picture. There it was, his first outright dare.

His eyes black and connecting. His mouth promising both humor and passion. Thick raven hair, cut neatly, with a sweet stray lock at his forehead. The strong jaw and a chin that had just the hint of a dimple. A classic white shirt and golden tie. A picture of a most striking and handsome man.

And to Snama, the vision of a predator...a tiger to her deer.

Confirmed by the reality, the flesh of him.

Looking at his picture, Snama could hear him thinking "Resist me. Try. I challenge you."

The photo had immense and shocking power.

The flesh and muscle and sinew blatantly asserted that power.

Returning to his eyes she was captured. There was no speculation. Snama knew.

"I would submit to this man"

And that was how he did it. He cut her open, penetrated her first with his eyes.

Slowly, naively, she bled feelings for Him. She did not realize, he tasted her blood and grew hungry.

____________________

REACHING ACINTYA (no thought)

Mindlessness, the gift of pain.

Mindlessness, sweet bliss, ah sweet bliss.

I am grateful for you and for your sense of timing.

You walk me down a path of darkness.

You take me no further than I want to go.

Tell me please how is it . . . how is it that you know?

Snama took her fortieth year as a point of transition. As a renaissance. Feeling fully accomplished and well in need of cleansing of her soul, she took leave of her profession and went into retreat for one year. One year became two, two became three.

In her life, Snama had accumulated enough pain to bring her to her knees. Her greatest pain was the abuse and suffering of children. The mother in her suffered as did her inner child.

From her knees, Snama was able to draw strength. She asked her higher power to deliver her more pain, but to take it away from hurting children. She knew the pain must exist. Such is life. She truly believed if every adult accepted his or her share of pain, fewer children would suffer.

In meditation, study and creativity Snama spent her hours. She also started dissecting her mind. She cut it all apart and examined it piece by piece, replacing every thought into a compartment. And when she had filed everything in her mind neatly she was able to access the fullness of her pain.

She did reach mindlessness. She did enter onto a higher plane. From there, she did have vision.

____________________

The notions that all opposites are polar, that light and dark, winning and losing, good and evil, are merely different aspects of the same phenomenon, is one of the basic principles of the Eastern way of life.

Since all opposites are interdependent, their conflict can never result in the total victory of one side, but will always be a manifestation of the interplay between the two sides. In the East, a virtuous person is therefore not one who undertakes the impossible task of striving for the good and eliminating the bad, but rather one who is able to maintain a dynamic balance between good and bad. [Quoted from page 146, The Tao of Physics, Fritjof Capra, Shambala Publications, Inc. 1999]

It was from this confirmation of her own thinking that Snama took peace.

Having stripped herself down of all the layers and labels she had gained through life she had a clean mind and was prepared for a new growth, in a second time.

____________________

Sexual submissiveness was in Snama's nature. She had not been happy about it, feeling vulnerable to any male who picked up on her need to be taken and to serve. She had therefore an armor.

Desiring to spend the rest of her life being true to her nature rather than resisting it and fearing it, she began an exploration of submission, Dominance and power exchange.

The more she discovered, the more she felt she had found her place. She could pronounce herself submissive, and feel happiness and pride in it.