Multitudes

I gave the address and the driver pulled away from the curb. I slipped my hand under Kira's dress and found my way easily between her parted knees to the place I'd been thinking about touching while I'd watched her dance. Her lips parted slightly when I ran my fingers over the outline of her sex through the sheer material that covered it without hiding it. I'd wondered if she would make the little noises that she normally does when I do such a thing, but she just smiled and chewed on her lip.

I looked out the window while I continued to touch her, glancing occasionally at the rear and side mirrors to see if the driver noticed, but he didn't seem to. I watched the street lamps pass by, took notice of the windows that had lights on in them and felt the steady bounce of loose shocks on the aging cab as we glided through the night. Watching the city endlessly change shape in different neighborhoods, as did the feeling of Kira growing warmer, wetter beneath my fingers.

********

"This morning I had residue from the tape on my lips," she said casually.

I'd covered her mouth and pulled her clothes from her a little roughly before I turned off the lights. I came back to the bed and turned her head to one side and kissed her cheek in soft contrast to the rigid way I held her face. I slid my hands between her legs and she was already wet as I worked my fingers back and forth, slid them slowly inside of her. Her breathing was heavy, and I could hear the first moans trying to escape through the tape.

I laid down next to her and played with the piercings in her nipples, putting them in my mouth, rubbing them between my thumb and forefinger, tugging on them just a little as I continued to work one hand between her legs. I traced my fingers across her throat and saw her breathing slow, heard her little muffled moan. I closed my fingers around her delicate neck knowing that I had to be aware of the pressure, so I applied it slowly, backed it off, applied it again. Her body responded enthusiastically to my palm on her throat, and she came moments later.

I traced my fingers all over her body as she caught her breath. I kissed her cheek, her forehead, her eyelids, slowly, calming her down, bringing her back to where we were. She looked at me in the dark, her bright eyes studying me to see what I'd do next. I kissed my way down her body, between her legs and it wasn't long before I felt the quaking, saw the quickening. I've always appreciated that she takes very little time to recover before she's ready to come again...

I slid myself inside of her while I looked her in the eyes. I let her catch her breath as deeply as she could with her mouth taped shut. I moved my hips and felt her opening up, but I stopped just shy of being completely inside of her because it's too much all at once, at least in the beginning. When she was close to coming, I flipped her on her stomach and clasped her wrists in my hands, pinning her to the bed. She moaned as I tilted my hips back and forth and watching my cock slide in and out of her, watching her take as much of it as she could, I felt powerful and dangerous and like the only thing holding back a frenzy was the indomitable strength of my self-control. I wanted and needed to own her, to possess her, to ruin her, to save her from myself and every moan, every gasp, every tilt of her hips that showed me how split wide open she was by my cock made me feel like a wildfire.

When she came for the last time, the sounds she made and the trembling of her body sent me over the edge too. I laid on top of her and we both breathed heavily; she felt so delicate beneath me, wrapped tightly in my arms, shaking as she tried to find herself again in the dark and I tried to stop myself from wanting more and more and more.

*********

We walked through the aisles of the grocery store, taking turns pushing the cart. We picked out all the ingredients needed to make the things we'd discussed before leaving the house, checking things off of our list as we made our way through the store.

"How are you doing?" I asked.

"It took a little getting used to because it's been so long since I've worn it," she answered as a faint flush of color rose to her cheeks

The night before I'd decided that she would wear the plug we'd bought for her on our last trip, so before leaving the house she brought it to me and I slipped it inside of her. She drew in a quick, sharp little breath and I gave her a moment to get accustomed to the feel of it before telling her to get dressed. We left the house just a little while later, setting off on errands; Kira wearing the plug beneath her clothes.

She told me that she had been wanting to see the return of our routine of submissive service, and so had I, but I also wanted her to ask for it. It had become more important for me that she not just be willing to do those things to keep us together, but that she wanted them too. We'd been drifting apart, had even spoken about the idea of splitting up and had decided to work through the differences, push past the troubles in our lives and try to connect again. This was the first kink experience we'd had in months.

We stood waiting for the bus, each of us with a bag of groceries. The warmth of the hot summer sun felt somehow worse by the wind that seemed to press it aggressively into us. In the distance, you can usually see the mountains but that day they were obscured by the sand storms. Kira admired the different tan lines all over her body, her tiny denim shorts providing new ones high on her legs. The wind whipped her long dark hair around her face; she wore her sunglasses as protection from the flying sand as much as from the sun. On the ride back she shifted, a little uncomfortable, but didn't complain. When we finally were home and had put all the groceries away, she asked permission to remove the plug. I could tell that she was proud of herself for having endured it for so long, and in truth, so was I.

**********

I was laying behind her with one arm wrapped around her, and I slid my hand down between her legs. She opened them at my touch, and in moments she was on the verge of her first orgasm of the day, but she asked permission as she is required to do every time. My face buried in the nape of her neck, I smiled because it made me happy that she'd remembered to do so without being reminded. I said yes once, twice, three times before she forgot to ask.

"Did you come without permission?" I asked, continuing to touch her despite the sensitivity that she has after an orgasm. The tape across her mouth prevented her from doing anything other than just nodding. She knows that, regardless of what's in her mouth, a yes is required from me before coming. I held her in one arm, her posture slightly rigid as I moved the other into the position to issue a reminder.

I brought my hand down ten times on her ass, the sound of my palm on her skin was sharp in the otherwise silent room. She jumped with each of them, even though she was usually able to take a spanking impressively .

"You spanked me a lot harder than you usually do," she said later, tearing up a bit. I knew that she was suffering through it for me then, but didn't really enjoy it anymore. That was the last time that I ever spanked her.

****

Kira and I packed to go out of town; she was going to visit her family, I was going to visit my own. She walked around our apartment in panties and a T-shirt, and when she emptied her hands into the suitcase, I approached her from behind. I lifted her arms and she laced her fingers together behind her head without a word. I buried my face into the soft, fine hair at the back of her neck; the strands that hadn't made it up into the bun caught the light that shined through the empty space that was created by the angle of her arms. I slid my hand down between her legs, and she swayed, leaning back against me to steady herself.

My hands traced the dots on her panties; her lips parted slightly, her head tilted back. I was gentle at first; my touch was more of a suggestion, a tease that was just enough to make her hopeful. I pressed on and she was close to coming within moments, so I slowed down, making her wonder if I'd continue and I don't until it's obvious how much she really wants me to. I drew the moment out just a little because it was satisfying to me, and I wanted to live in it for a little while longer.

When she came, I held her upright and she floated against me. We'd been together for two years then; we've lived in two different states, in two different countries, on two different continents. We'd had our differences, but worked through them. She was waiting for me to ask her to marry me and I'd thought about it, but there was a hesitation.

I really wanted it to be enough.

****

A New Year

We stood in front of the window watching the people gathering in the street below us. Sparks flew perilously close to the building as did the smoke that hung in the air, so we'd shut the window and stood sipping whiskey in front of it. People looked to the sky as midnight approached, and all over the city, you could see explosions of color. My favorites were the little lanterns that drifted on the wind.

Kira stood in front of me with a huge smile on her face, appreciating how extraordinary our life here is. We heard the roar of people below us, which meant that the new year had come, so we kissed and said 'I love you' to each other.

Below us, someone was unwinding a long line spool of firecrackers, and as we waited for them to fire off, I slipped my hand down between Kira's legs. The people in the streets looked in every direction, their eyes passing over us, but never lingering. If they saw us standing in the dark, they thought nothing of what was happening. Kira put her hands on the window sill and stifled a moan, but the sounds of explosions outside of the window drowned out anything that escaped her lips.

We looked out at the crowds, up at the sky, and into the apartments across the street. I worked my fingers between her legs while red and green sparks bounced off the glass in front of us. When she came, she sank against me and I kissed her neck while she found her legs again. She turned around and faced me, pressing her lips to mine as she reached down between my legs. She tried to kneel in front of me, but I brought her back to her feet because I wanted the moment that we were already having together more than I wanted anything for myself. I turned her around in front of me again and let my hand find its way.

She was more vocal, freer the second time around and the crowd below us continued to send fireworks into the sky for what felt like a lifetime. The cheering, the well-wishing, the pop, pop, popping in the sky; it was music that scored the moment when she came again.

This is the last happy memory that I have of Kira. It was only a few weeks later that things came to an end for us. We'd moved to another country together and the weight of what I do for a living coupled with the isolation of a new place and the level of kink that I wanted, needed, growing by the day while hers was in decline; it was all too much for her.

While I was filming a scene one day, Kira went to a pub and stopped answering her phone. She didn't meet me afterward as we'd agreed, and when I found her, she was blackout drunk. I took her home and had to carry her up the stairs.

We had the conversation the next day when she finally admitted that she didn't like my growing friendship with the model that I was working with and she'd hit a breaking point. She also told me that I'd stopped fucking her since she'd asked for the latest break from kink and that the break wasn't really temporary; it was too much for her and she never wanted to let anyone do those things to her again because they made her feel broken or wrong and as though I didn't love her, I loved the things she would let me do. It was her shame, her insecurity and she tried to make it mine.

I was devastated and I tried to convince us both that I didn't need those things, told her that I loved her as a person and that if I had to give up one or the other I would choose her every time. We agreed to try again and we did for a few more weeks, but it was already over and there was no fixing it.

I'd stopped wanting those things with Kira because she was fragile and I craved resilience in a submissive, but I hadn't stopped wanting them altogether. I think that hurt her the most because she could see it, feel it, in the way that I touched her or didn't, in the way that I looked at her or hadn't with that ravenous look in so long. I hadn't changed; she'd indulged my kinks and even enjoyed them for a while, but it was a game to her that she'd grown tired of and a life to me that I no longer lived.

The day of the photoshoot what broke her wasn't just my work in adult entertainment, it wasn't just my kink, it wasn't just the model. It was knowing that I was looking forward to tying someone up, and that person was looking forward to being tied, sharing something with me that she didn't anymore and she didn't want me to want. My happiness, my want, the feeding of my darknesses shattered her.

We'd had the conversation early about kink being a part of who I am, that I was inherently dominant and always would be and I needed that to have a sustainable relationship. She'd been excited by the notion, I thought, but it seems to me now that she was learning a role like she had as a performer, rather than ever truly wanting the same thing that I wanted. She'd tried to push herself as much as I tried to hold back, and in the end, you can only be who you are.

In the face of heartbreak, you will challenge your own view of yourself; you'll become more flexible in some places and more rigid in others. If you are honest with yourself, you'll evolve in some ways, but the roots of who you are will almost always grow stronger and deeper.

I am ravenous for new depths, I am always going to push for more and I am happiest in deeply complex situations. I am not an easy person to read and I've been told more than once that I'm just as hard to please; both of those things are probably true. I want the tender moments wrapped up in each other's arms, but I need the gritty ones too; it can't be one or the other, it has to be both.

I dream of someone with her own darknesses, her own complications, her own ardent want and need to sink into that struggle, that depth, that surrender that comes with submission. I don't want to break someone fragile, I want to test the resilience of someone who is strong and has a driving desire to be tested.

In the depth of disappointment, I found my resolve. This is who I am, this is what I want, this is the only way forward for me. This is the only way forward with me.

"I got lost in the night, without the light

of your eyelids, and when the night surrounded me

I was born again: I was the owner of my own darkness."

― Pablo Neruda