Tales From Subspace

“We can of course, mark her however you feel would be appropriate, Danielle.” Jay, always ready to oblige a friend. "We have canes, whips and paddles. What would you like?" I felt the man next to me, move slightly, as she spoke."I think ten with a cane, should mark her nicely, then maybe that nice strap. The hefty one." I shivered. "I do so love, British tan." They all chuckled at her throaty joke. I didn’t, but then I was the one about to get marked. The fact, that I could feel the wetness forming on my thighs from the mere thought of that cane biting into me, did nothing to quench my fear. No matter how much I loved the strap or the whip. It hurt as it happened. No amount of desire could lessen the pain. I just liked it. I liked that I could take it. No matter how much I feared it.

There was a quick tug on my leash, and I followed it. Hurrying across the thick cream carpeting. Wondering where we were going. We stopped in front of a sawhorse, and I knew what was going to happen. I was pulled to my feet, and laid face down over the horse, almost straddling it. The wrist cuffs were hooked to the wood, and my feet were hooked to the legs. Adam took a hold of my hands from in front. His body inches from mine. A male hand from behind pushed a handkerchief into my mouth. Nothing went over it, so I could spit it out if I wanted to. No violation there, but it made my safe-word so much farther away than it was. The hand rubbed my neck, almost harshly.He stepped back. I heard the first soft whoosh of the cane slicing through the air, and then fire across my thighs. I jerked, and bit down. The tears were instantaneous. Adam leaning on my wrists to keep my hands still. The blows were quick and cruel. The ten seeming to fall with unerring accuracy, and brutal sameness. I felt it acutely when they stopped. My breaths hard, and heart pounding.

It seemed like there was no respite, between the cane, and the strap. It started as though he had held both of them in his hand. Maybe he had. These blows were not softer, but bigger. More even, because the strap was wider. It licked the soft part of my thighs, and the back of my calves.

I was weakening all over. It wasn’t going to stop. They would make me raw, and then use me for their own relief. I had not been talked to, or touched without pain, since I was taken out of the chair. I had passed from active participant, into the abject. I did not exist. They talked of color, and consistency. The way the redness looked on me, and the quality of the welts. The only real contact that I had was Adam’s hands holding my wrists still. Not that I could have gotten away anyways.

I wasn’t sure if I liked being this much of an object. It was different. I had been the focus, and to a certain extent I still was, but not quite. Adam and his friends had turned me into meat. A different trip. I tried to relax into it, but I couldn’t. The man in the mask was making it impossible.

He frightened me, because I could not identify him. He was a stranger. Adam released my arms when they were finished strapping me. Hands flipping me over effortlessly, until I was on my back.

Mark put his hands under my knees, and forced them back against my chest. The Mistress putting a condom on his organ, as his eyes studied me. I did nothing so foolish as look directly at him. I concentrated on being calm, and cool.

When he slid deeply into me. I moaned behind closed lips, and buried my face in my arm to muffle the sound. Not that any sound I made would have made a difference.

The others watching us, speaking slowly about other things to do to me, and to have me do for them. I wouldn’t let myself cum, and knew that the man in the mask was going to soon, by the way his cock tightened inside me. His breathing harsh and full of heat. His hands pushing into my arms in short grasps as he neared. That this was a straight fuck was surprising to me. After Danielle, and the chair I was wondering why this was so normal.

“Let her catch up.” Danielle said, from where she was sitting in the leather chair. “We can use those big beads, and maybe get her worked up again with a wrap around whipping.” The Man in the mask, nodded, and pulled out abruptly.

They turned me over a footstool, and made me wait with my eye closed. It would have been so easy to open my eyes, but I didn’t. I felt the hard push of the toy as they tried to work it into my wet slit. They were almost too big, even though they were soft rubber. I was open though, from the fisting and the fucking. They got one in my pussy, and held it in place, while they played idly with my body. I was getting very tired from all they had done to me, and longed to be bound so tightly I could relax, maybe sleep but I also wanted to see who the scary man in the mask was.

I did realize that they would probably not let me see his face. I could be walking past this man on the street and wouldn’t know who he was. I would never know his name. He was anonymous, and that sent a funny little thrill through me. He was not as cruel as some, but maybe that I did not know him made it feel crueler.

I did as they expected me too, with as much grace as I could get together, and waited for the night to end. I fell asleep and woke to morning, lying at the foot of the masters bed where I belonged. The soft blanket wrapped around my naked flesh, hearing the gentle sounds of the men breathing in the kingsize bed above me.

ADAM

The rest of the week passed in a flash of pleasurable lassitude. She was left at home to wait for our return. Allowed to do anything but swim.. I didn’t want her to drown while we were away. She had dinner waiting for us when we got home. Salads, and wine opened, breathing on the counter. She never drank any of it before hand. She knelt quietly by my feet, or Jay’s feet. Letting us feed her. Touch her, place the food on her tongue. Give her sips of wine or water. She seemed happy. Me and Jay passing her back and forth for the night. Her exhausted on her pallet at the foot of the bed, when we finally stopped. That had been Jay’s idea. He had read it somewhere, and had always wanted to do it for a slave, if he got one. Anne never protested it.

The week ended too fast, and Jay and I promised to discuss asking her to move in with us. She would be a perfect addition to our household if she could be persuaded to join us.

BACK TO JON AND TRACI’S

It was at the crystalline moment when I walked back up to Jon and Traci’s door that I realized the most perfect peace that I had ever known. Contented and serene. I knew that I was filling a place in the world that only I could fill. I was intoxicated by the way my life was being lived. Lucky to not have to hide myself all the time. Feeling safe and loved and, God help me, appropriate here. I turned my head to watch Adam next to me, and felt devotion for him. Something that I had never known before. Simple human feelings, born of pain, and filled with hope.

I had screwed up my courage and dialed a phone, and found joy. I might not have it forever, but I had it now.

Now, was all that mattered. I reached out for Adam's hand, letting his fingers capture my soul. I knew that I had come home.

I had finally realized one thing more. I was different, not deviant. I was more normal than most of the people around me, and I was lucky. Lucky to find a safe haven for my desires. I couldn’t go home again, or backwards, but in the whispered fantasies, and dark corners of my imagination. A little bit of light had started to shine.

One day I would totally accept my own sexuality, until then I would enjoy myself, and this life as best I could. Using my limitations as boundaries that I had to fight against. I had found the humanity within myself, and could project it unto others. I saw everyone as equal.

I smiled at Adam, slowly. For I suddenly understood what I had been looking for in all the seedy bars, and dangerous encounters. I had been looking for myself, and the ability to accept myself. To see that I was a decent person, no matter what kind of sex I got off on. I wasn’t alone. I could now draw a deep breath again. I felt better about my life. Great about it, in fact.

If one lost dreamer can learn to love him or herself, without condition or judgment. What more are we capable of? What more can I dream? What can I accomplish?

I may never know, but I bet I’ll have a good time trying to find out.