Insomnia's End

"Illusions commend themselves to us because they save us pain and allow us to enjoy pleasure instead. We must therefore accept it without complaint when they sometimes collide with a bit of reality against which they are dashed to pieces." -- Sigmund Freud

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Chapter One

The color of the sky... when you stare long enough blends with the ocean so well the vanishing point becomes an endless, welcoming place. A pair of eyes, not quite brown anymore yet not green, stare into that space with such longing. Upturned palms losing their heat rising to the cool sea air, rest on her parted thighs. The seascape disappears to blackness as she closes her eyes. The free fall begins. His voice in her ear, terribly foreign, distracting, always making her tilt her head to a slight degree to catch those disembodied words.

"This is what you are." His voice so crystal clear in her mind causes her lips part as she gasps for air. "Mine!" he commands. She is oblivious to the fact that she has been holding her breath, forever in anticipation of him. She drops her head to her chest and parts her thighs to a wider kneel.

There it is.

She feels the connection with him, so tangible, his eyes staring at her even now. Holding her breath again, she freezes. Reassuring herself in her mind, she thinks: No, it's impossible, he isn't really here, and he only exists in the imaginary place of the Internet. Yet, the gaze raking down her back leaves such a trail of fire. There it is again. She trembles, and turns her head to look behind her slowly, catching his scent in the clear ocean breeze.

Nothing.

Shame washes over her body as she chides herself. He'll never come. Giving him all the specific details of you life, your habits, where you can be found... all for nothing. Besides, Suze... you really never want to meet him, it complicates things far too much.

For two years she has delved into her subconscious, the inner sanctum of her true self and has explored the world of submission, always in a "safe" forum: only online. It was there she was captivated, utterly bewitched by his presence, falling to his feet begging to do whatever he wishes ... if only... he would allow her to be near him. She begged to be this total stranger's slave.

But, was he really a stranger? Or is he a remnant of a male in her collective conscious, a rare but true man in every sense of the word, the one whom she longs to be a subject of, the alpha male? Why did she not feel that he was a stranger, so unlike the others who have come and gone in her life. The Internet can play tricks on you. Best not to analyze it Suze... go with it. Learn what you can, don't get hurt.

However, what man is this to make her feel so animate, so vital yet utterly insignificant? It was at his feet where this secret, silent voice of her true nature was allowed to flourish.

The sand cuts into the delicate skin of her knees, having been kneeling now for almost an hour, the aches and pains were seeping into her bones. But, she didn't wish to leave this moment, to sever the connection.

I feel him so near me... if only... A distressed sigh slips from her lips, breath catching in her throat as she cries out for him. "Master..."

The length of her hair is lifted up by a sudden, violent wind. Her eyes fly open as a shudder passes through her body, like a cruel electric current. She leaps to her feet, scooping up her belongings and rushes off to her car. She pushes through the crowded boardwalk of tourists and locals hawking their wares. Blindly she works her way through the surge; with the distinct feeling she's being chased.

Turning and looking over her shoulder, she careens into a wall of a man stopped on the sidewalk. The sudden force sends her purse flying out of her hands, falling on the pavement, contents scattering.

"FUCK!" she swears loudly, then continues as she drops to her knees picking up her cell phone and makeup before it's stepped on.

A deep, accented voice from high above her, chuckles, "Little one, I believe the words should be "I am sorry for my clumsiness." She freezes, seeing a pair of white Nike trainers inches from her.

Her mind screams, No! It is not... him. He swore he would never meet me. This was something she wanted but could not have in her real life. She would not and could not ever meet him, no matter how badly her psyche cried out of him. This is your mind playing tricks, Suze.

As she continues to collect her items, she snarls back: "I believe it's you who need to apologize... standing in the middle of a busy boardwalk, typical fucking tourist. Some of us here have places to go."

Her voice holds the defensive, smiting tone that scares unwanted people away every time. She stands up quickly, eyes avoiding contact with the tall stranger; she turns her body and pushes past him in the crowd, quickly putting as much room between him and herself as she can.

Breathlessly she reaches her car and begins to fumble for her keys. She cries out in angst, moving around to the hood of her car, she turns her purse upside down, emptying the contents out, searching. "Damn it..." she swears with frustration. Suddenly, she hears someone walking up behind her, the sound of keys jingling. She composes herself, putting on a beautiful smile, and then she turns around.

A lone woman smiles in return and gets into her jeep that is parked adjacent to hers. Swallowing her chagrin, she walks back to the boardwalk to search for her keys, chuckling to herself. Shit Suze, you really need to get a hold of yourself.

Chapter Two

"Change is the essence of life. Be willing to surrender what you are for what you could become." - Unknown

The sun has slipped low into the sky and is about to drop below the mountains that tower over Malibu in the distance. The air is electric, fired up with the energy of the moment. Crowds of people have forsaken the boardwalk to gather in the sand. The drum circle is in full revelry, at least fifty people beating in unison, and more people adding their voices to the cacophony, paying homage to the setting of the sun. Congas of every size, tambourines, snares, bass drums, tri-toms, bongos and at least a dozen home made percussion instruments, garbage cans, plastic pails turned upside-down, all signaling the end of the day.

Suze walks with her head down, having searched the boardwalk, asking every vendor for the past three hours. No luck. She had given up a while ago and decided to cave-in and call AAA to see if they could do something. The auto club has always bailed her out by bringing her gas, jumping her dead battery off or fixing a flat tire. There was no free service for car re-keying, though. She would have to call the dealership or a locksmith and accept the exorbitant fees.

Exhausted and totally dispirited, she wanders into the sidewalk café and collapses into a booth. Chelsea, a cheery blonde waitress approaches with an apologetic smile. "Still no luck with those keys huh, Suzy?"

She shakes her head negatively; "It serves me right for being in such a damned hurry. I totally rammed into some tourist and bit his head off in the process." She gratefully takes the glass of ice water the blonde offers, taking a long cool sip then raises her glass in a mock toast: "This is to Karma, my Lord and Master". Chelsea chuckles as she takes the sandwich order, and then wanders off to the next table.

"You've got the name wrong, little one. It is not "Karma". I've told you my name once before."

The voice came from the table behind her. She froze, holding her breath, until she started to visibly tremble. His chuckle left no doubt in her mind who it was. She moved to turn around, eyes wide with shock until she heard the chuckle fade and a stern tone "Don't even think of turning around. You will not look at me until I say you have earned the right." She took a quick breath to speak, and he cut in icily "Nor speak. Your foul language and rudeness has assaulted the air enough for one day".

Instantly, her face reddens with embarrassment, then anger. She tries to speak, opening her mouth to speak her mind, the mix of shock, rage, and pure disbelief. Instead, she sits there as one without a tongue, stricken mute. Was it fear? Of what? Of him? Her mind is in a complete riot.

The waitress returns after minutes of silence dragged by. "Hon, you ok? Here's your tuna salad on rye, extra pickles". Before she lays the plate down, he walks up and stands behind Suze's chair, spreading his large hands across both of her shoulders, caressing in a familiar way. He says, "We want her food to-go, please. Add it to my tab." He winds his fingers into the back of her hair and threads them into a firm grip.

Chelsea looks to him then back to Suze, confused. In a calm, assured voice Suze answers "Yes, that would be great", giving her a practiced LA smile. With a quick nod, the blonde removes the plate and heads into the kitchen to wrap the sandwich up.

His hand in her hair does not slack its hold. The heat radiates from his body and his scent assails her senses, making her eyes flutter closed and her heart melt. She sighs softly "My Master..."

He snaps her head back a few inches. Instantly she knew she was not given permission to speak. Pulling her head back to rest on him, before she could look up at him, he commands in a quiet emotionless voice "Eyes closed or lowered, you are not permitted to look at me until I say. Clear?"

Swallowing hard, she nods and pinches her eyes closed. A deep chuckle rose in his throat again "Behave, little one, if you appear scared, surely you will arouse suspicion. This I believe would cut my visit a bit shorter than it already is. Besides, knowing you" he leans in closer inhaling her scent, "that isn't what you would prefer to arouse, is it?"

She inhales quickly and her body is ravished with a shiver, sending her nipples to high, tight peaks, quite visible through her white tank top. A blush rises again to her face as she hears a barely audible grunt from his throat, knowing he has seen her body react. He moves his right hand down her shoulder, following the ribs of the thin cotton material of her top, caressing lower still. She tries to shake her head no, to speak it, but only manages a soft moan as his large hand captures her right breast. Cupping it firmly, he pushes it in, lifting up as if weighing it. Then he pushes her head down, her chin to her chest. "Watch," he commands.

She opens her eyes and sees what she's imagined for years now, her breathing coming in short gasps. Well-manicured fingernails at the tip of impossibly long fingers, strong firm hand, possess her. The full, round breast fits his hand perfectly.

The uncomfortable cough of the waitress interrupts the intimate moment, sending a bright red blush to both of the women, as it's obvious that he has zero intention of removing his hand. Instead he hands Chelsea his credit card with his left hand, while his right hand turns in and he begins idly flicking the hypersensitive nipple with his thumb. She disappears quickly, but Suze feels the hot stares of the other people seated at the restaurant, hearing a few chuckles from the table across the aisle, full of young men. She grits her teeth and tries to steel her nerves and calm her body, blowing puff of breath through her teeth.

He chuckles again and begins to play, bouncing her breast in his hand. Suze turns her face to the side, looking out to the ocean several yards away, crumbling inside and dying of embarrassment. Suddenly, his face is down by her ear, whispering "Don't escape this in your mind, slave. You will be here in the moment with me, as I please. Your body is mine as you are."

He releases her breast bringing his hand up to her throat, fingering the choker she has worn for two years. He pulls away and tilts her head further to the side to look at it. "Mmmm, this is the collar, huh? The one I never ordered you to wear, but you wore it on your own, hmmm girl? He hooks a long finger under the worn leather, caressing its softness. "You think you are not mine?" She hears his smile and blushes again, knowing he is pleased. She smiles, and then sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, as she fights with wanting to speak.

He keeps his index finger linked under her collar, and brings his thumb up to caress the dimple in her cheek. He murmurs something in an unknown tongue then pulls her up by her collar out of her chair to stand. He towers over her and snuggles her under his left arm, leaning over to sign the receipt, thanking the waitress for her service. She fights hard with herself, trying to be obedient and avert her eyes, yet remain calm. Chelsea catches her eye as she leaves, and gives her a mouthed "Ohh my GOD!" and a "thumbs up". They leave the sidewalk café, and he leads her to the surf, his arm wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her body into his, and keeping his index finger linked in her collar.

The sun behaves like a spoiled child, not wishing to go to bed, sending the sky into a riot of reds and a tantrum of purples. The color radiates off of Suze's skin, reflecting in her hazel eyes, giving them a reddish appearance. He puts his hand on top of her head and pushes her down. She drops to a kneel before him as if it was the most natural thing she has ever done. She blinks surprised at her reaction, her mind beginning to fight and protest, yet her tongue refusing to give it voice.

He brings his foot up between her legs, lifting up the sarong she has tied around her. "Lose it, now". She opens her mouth, raising her head to look at him and says "But, wait... I..." Swiftly he snatches her hair and jerks her head down; she winces crying out softly in fear. "Unacceptable response, slave girl".

Her trembling fingers reach up to her left side to where the sarong is tied. She works with the tight knot until the bright blue material comes loose and she pulls it off, laying it down behind her. He smirks seeing her black bikini bottoms "Ah, you had planned on swimming I see, pull off this top as well." She obeys; pulling the tank top over her head, then straightens her back and widens her thighs, displaying her body in a sudden rush of self-confidence. The power of a woman to use her body to distract the male is something she is keenly aware of. She centers her mind and draws strength from within, letting her beauty radiate in the fading light of the sunset. She tosses her head, sending her straight golden-highlighted hair shimmering in the soft wind from the ocean.

She soothes herself, silently in her mind. Relax, Susan... nothing to fear, so he's broken the rule. He crossed over into your real life, something you swore you'd never allow. It's done. Be strong and only give what you wish to give.

He slowly walks around her; all she can see are his long legs and his shoes, kicking up the sand as he moves in a circle around her. Standing behind her he gathers her hair up in his hand, lifting the silken tresses, leaving her back exposed. Suddenly she feels the bow of her bikini top undone at the neck, then at the middle of her back. Quickly she raises her hands to catch it, keeping her breasts hidden. "Hands behind your back, now slave". She tosses her head in a negative shake, knowing he is crossing another limit of hers.

"You will stay here on this beach all night until you full expose my property for my eyes to see. You simply have no choice. I will indulge you with time only. And for this disobedience you will remove the bikini bottoms as well and kneel in a way so I may see your sex."

In a calm, cold voice she replies, "I will not be arrested for public indecency..." her anger was evident.

The venom in his voice was clear. "You assume I care of your fears. You assume there are still people around to see you. You assume I gave you permission to speak. You assume you are a slave as well I suppose."

He pulls her to her feet roughly, her eyes sting with tears as she's pulled further down the beach. The noise from the boardwalk fades as people begin to close shop. The drum circle is abandoned and a trail of people leaving the beach, walking to opposite way of them, signals the end of the long day. The sky grows ominously darker and the chill in the air feels warmer than the chill in his voice as it echoes in her mind.

Approaching some coastal rocks, he releases his grip, snaps his fingers and points to the sand below. He turns his back and walks over to the rocks, climbing a few feet up and settling down comfortably. She takes the opportunity to take in his features while his back is turned. Her motions freeze as she finally sees his towering height, his cropped short dark hair framing his strong, chiseled features of his face, strong neck, impossibly wide shoulders tapering down to his waist then a length of leg she's never seen before. Not a beautiful man, but one whose form dared your eyes not to stare in awe.

"Why are you standing and blushing, slave?" before those words we out, she has slipped out of her bikini bottoms. Still leaning over, bending over at the waist, facing him, staring at the ground, she answers: "I.... I thought you wanted me to... strip..." she struggles to back peddle from not kneeling immediately. "And I cannot do so... kneeling.... M... Mas... ahh... Master...." She drops her head, letting her hair cascade over, and then she lets her top fall to the sand below as well. Slowly, she inhales, falling to her hands and knees, still hiding her body in a last rebellious act of shyness, and loathing being naked and exposed.

Not wishing to try his patience, Suze steels herself, widening her stance of her knees, then pushing her torso up to kneel properly, thrusting her chest out, sucking her tummy in tight. Her head hangs forward and to the side, slightly, her hair still covering her breasts.

"Tsk tsk tsk" he intonates. She took the sound to mean displeasure with her body, and instinctively shuts down, thighs closing slowly, shoulders rounding, arms coming up protectively. The tears begin to stream down her face, the emotional shock of the entire day, the surprise, the overwhelming desire to crawl to him and wrap her body around him seeing if he was real, that this wasn't another cruel, empty dream.

He allows her time to recover but makes no move to comfort her, even though it's very apparent she's breaking down. He inhales slowly, as if summoning the patience of the gods. Her body wracks with silent sobbing. Witnessing the slow descent of her submission is what he's doing, no more hiding behind walls; this was reality. He sits back and lets her fall, offering the only thing she has had for all this time: his voice.

"Shhhh... little one. Calm yourself. Be what you are to me. Show your Master, what you are," he says in a low voice barely audible in the evening breeze. "Look up to your owner, now".

The world begins to spin slowly as hazel met the deepest dark brown. The wind blows across her nude body, lifting the golden strands away from her achingly full breasts, whose nipples so painfully erect and sensitive, begging for is hand again. Those eyes hold hers captive, and then they release her to examine her ripe, curvaceous body. Naturally, she reopens herself to him. His piercing gaze is a tangible caress across her skin, she drops her head back, staring up to the vast sky, feeling her sex prepare for his penetration, be it his stare or whatever he wishes to do to her. A soft moan escapes her lips as the pleasure slave awakens from her slumber.

She leans her body back to the sand, lying back down on her shoulders, with her hair wildly splayed over the white sands; she presses her feet into the sand and lifts her hips up. Obediently, she opens her thighs for his intimate inspection, feeling the cool night air lick up across her wet, swollen sex. His eyes are such a real touch to her; she reaches one hand down across her trembling belly, over across her hairless, delicate mound to cover her sex momentarily, only to slide her fingers apart, parting those tender, pouting lips.