Soft as Glass

She stared up at him in silence: her mysteriousblank look.

He wasn't sure what she was thinking, but he said it anyway. "Break me, Lene."

Jamie's assurance finally convinced her conscience to let the reins go slack. She would give him everything he asked for with pleasure, but couldn't say so because her brain short circuited, her tongue went numb, and she couldn't talk. Instead, she made a high pitched sound, somewhere between a moan and a whimper.

A smile oozed onto his face, slow, sweet, and dark. "Was that a yes?"

That look destroyed her capacity to even think in words, though later 'floored' came to mind. She stared up at him helplessly for a few seconds before she gave up on speaking and answered him with a slap across his cheek, as hard as she could manage at that awkward angle and distance.

He saw it coming and braced for it, closing his eyes at the last instant. It didn't appear to hurt him much. He growled and chased after her hand to give it a love bite.

She hauled him back to the ground with her and kissed him deeply. She said yes again with her leg that she draped over his, with her forceful hand on the back of his neck, and with a shiver of excitement.

He offered her his tongue, deliberately placing it between her teeth. She took time to appreciate thetexture of the bumps where she'd bitten him earlier and the way he squirmed when she toyed with them. When she couldn't resist any more, she made a fresh imprint of her teeth just behind the first. This time, he was ready for it, and he twitched and tensed up. He caught his breath in his throat to keep quiet and didn't pull away. She soaked up his little struggles through her skin, and savored them. So close and personal.

Could anyone else ever feel so perfect? Once, she'd have answered the rhetorical question with an easy no, but now, it stirred up unwanted thoughts. The idea of holding someone else like this made her feel sick inside. Involuntarily, she imagined hearing some other guy's voice cry out in response to a slap from her and it struck her as obscene. To chase the idea from her mind, she jerked her head back before she released Jamie's tongue, drawing a yelp from him.

Jamie closed his mouth to shield his wounded tongue from her merciless teeth, even though he wanted her to hurt him the same way again. He wished that his body would cooperate better. He hated that she always ended up having to restrain him to keep him from getting away from her. Even though she took obvious pleasure in pushing him past the point where he could resist the reflex to defend himself, it didn't seem fair for her to give him so much attention when he couldn't hold her and caress her and lick her in return.

Lene moved to the edge of the sleeping bag and retrieved the purple bag of bondage clutter, but she never quite stopped touching him; she kept her toes against his thigh. He ran his fingers up her leg, and she wiggled her toe in response. Her position gave mooning a whole new and improved shade of meaning. She returned and dumped out the contents of the bag: rope, a couple pairs of soft handcuffs, rubbing alcohol, and the obnoxiously dull knife that she used to cut vegetables. He petted whichever parts of her he could reach while she unbundled the rope.

She fastened the cuffs around his wrists and ankles and locked them on with the tiny padlocks they were designed to hold. No escaping. He slid a finger between her legs, where she was still slick with both their juices, to toy with her while she cuffed his ankles. His attention slowed her down a little, but she didn't let it stop her from finishing the task. She paused and made soft appreciative sounds for a minute, then said, "I think the tree on the left looks good. It's got a side without any low branches sticking out. I'll tie you to that one."

"Right away? Aren't you going to see how long I can manage to cooperate with you?" He slid a couple fingers inside her.

"No." She sounded distracted and squirmed against his hand. "It won't be long enough to bother with." Her words gave him a delicious surge of lust and anxiety. He added a third finger. He didn't think she'd get too distracted now that she'd tasted blood, and he wanted to make the most of this chance to make her feel good.

She tightened her grip on his most recently cuffed ankle and moaned while he fucked her with his fingers. He kept it up for longer than he expected, because he thought she was too pretty like this for him to want to stop, and she wasn't stopping him. She bit his calf and sucked at his skin. That wasn't exactly encouraging him to stop either.

Eventually, though, she closed her fingers around his wrist and drew his hand away. She stood up, holding a length of rope, and coaxed him to his feet with her so she could lead him over to a tree. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught her snagging a second piece of rope with her foot and dragging it with her. "Here, hug this nice tree, please."

From this angle, he recognized the tree as the one he dreamt about. It didn't even surprise him. He finally saw the picture he'd been staring at all along; the stick, the blood, the tree, and the vine. The dreams weren't omens. They were instructions. Although he realized that the idea was truly insane, he also knew it was true.

This was old magic: a blood sacrifice for fertility because the land was sterile. He recalled no evidence that anything had sprouted, hatched, or been born there since the loggers and tree planters left. At least any blood sacrifice mediated by Lene would be easily survivable. But why did it choose him? Did he get the call because he was weird enough to do this willingly, or did he want to do this because he was called? Both went back farther than his memory, so it was impossible to tease them apart.

He wanted a quiet moment to adjust after almost two decades of staunch agnosticism about all things metaphysical, so he put his arms around Lene instead of the tree. "I will, but I'm hugging you first. You're softer and sexier."

His unlikely priestess held him in her embrace and swayed back and forth."You feel like heaven." She petted his shoulder with the hand that wasn't holding rope. "When you're ready, though, put your arms around the tree. That's when you give up the words no and stop. You can say them all you like, but they won't get you anywhere."

"I gave them up a while ago, sweetness." He finished equilibrating and turned around to hug the tree gingerly. The pine bark felt as rough as it looked.

She threaded the rope through the rings on his handcuffs, wrapped it around the tree a couple of times, flung the end over the lowest branch to keep his arms from sliding down.She placed all the knots deliberatelywhere he couldn't reach them. When she crouched down to tie his feet, she slid her hands along his sides, over his hips, and down his legs. His skin tingled with anticipation.

Jamie couldn't turn his head enough to see what she was doing, but he could tell from the sound that she tugged on the sleeping bag to bring the rest of their stuff within reach. She pulled the belt out of its loops in her pants. He knew it was hers because the buckle clinked at a different pitch than the one he always wore, whether he needed it to hold his pants up or not.

"I got this one just for you." She kissed up the back of his leg as she rose to stand beside him with her face inches from his. Her hand wandered up his back with the belt, teasing him with it.

"How um..." Jamie struggled for a word, trying to think through the mad craving and failing. She shifted a little, and the next time the belt touched him, he could tell that she'd doubled it over in her hand. "Please." If she didn't hit him soon, he was going to start gnawing bark off the tree. She glanced down, drew her hand back and lashed him across the back of his legs, sharp and electric. It wasn't the sensation he was expecting, or quite the place he was expecting it, and he reflexively jerked away. The careless motion scraped his hip on the tree bark. The sting was gone in a second, though, leaving him just as hungry as before.

Lene smacked Jamie lightly across the thighs with her new toy, chosen because it had the same weight as his belt, but about half the width. Picking it out with this purpose in mind was the only time in her life that she could remember enjoying spending an hour at the mall. Seeing the way a little tap made him jump was gratifying. She felt a jump inside her chest, too – a jolt of adrenaline flowing into her heart. He composed himself and focused on her face again. "Thank you," he said in a voice drenched with lust. She couldn't help kissing him. The way he strained towards her, and put his heart and soul into it, gave her shivers. There was a reason he was kissing like that, though, and it couldn't be neglected for long. She took half a step back, and then put her arm into the second swing with the belt.

He yelled and thrashed violently, trying to twist around in his bonds. "Fuck, Lene. What happened to working up to it?"

"Who knows?" She knew she'd really hurt him when he started swearing. Sometimes it bothered her. This time, it made her grin. She hit him again. Even though her emotional reaction was predictable, she never got used to it. Hurting him and watching him struggle wasn't just sexy and intimate; it was wicked fun. She couldn't think of a better legal high.

Jamie was out of his mind sooner than he expected. He hadn't realized how strong she was, and before that night, Lene usually gave him a few seconds between one lash and the next.Sometimes she even gave him enough time to get impatient and ask for more. This time, she allowed no respite, laying hurt on top of hurt with the stick or the belt. He loved and hated it at the same time. It was impossible to think because every time a thought coalesced in his brain, she jolted it out. The sensory overload overwhelmed him.

He fought to free himself by squeezing his hands out of the cuffs, then just pulling on them with all his strength trying to break them. They held. He yelled at her to stop.

"No." She smiled audibly when she said it, and followed that up with a particularly vicious stroke with the stick that made him scream and pull at his bonds.

Everything was out of his control, even his own body and voice; helpless as a stray leaf in a hurricane. He heard himself bellowing like a wounded animal and shouting at her, calling her names he would have to apologize for later. Even though thrashing around did nothing to stop her from beating him and only hurt him more, he couldn't keep still.

He noticed after a while, though, that he had gradually stopped fighting and stopped using words. He still cried out, and his throat felt raw, but his body accepted the relentless pain. Part of his brain hated what was happening to him, but the rest of his brain hoped she was still getting off on it and that she wouldn't finish too soon. He needed to suffer like a plant needed light, and for once in his life, he was in full sun.Instead of pulling away from the tree, he leaned on it for support and lost track of time.

Lene dropped the stick and pressed her body up against his back. His skin was so raw that even the soft touch of her breasts and stomach hurt. She bit his shoulder, and he felt nothing but pleasure from her teeth. "I'm going to put you back on the ground now." Her breath against his neck felt reassuring, and he was disappointed when she crouched down to untie his feet.

She released his hands and helped ease him down to lay horizontal. He lay on his ravaged back, halfway on the sleeping bag and half on the ground. She straddled his chest and stroked his hair. He could tell from the hungry look that she wasn't done hurting him.

"I just want you to know that I love you." She slapped his cheek for punctuation, but he could tell she was holding back. "Madly." Slap. "And you are the most delicious, sexiest creature on earth." Then the other hand came, hard. The impact jerked his head to the side, stung his cheek, and made his jaw ache.

Jamie let his head lie the where it was and said nothing.

She leaned to the side and picked something up before she grabbed a handful of his hair and turned his head back to look at her. "Close your eyes and open your mouth."

He obeyed before it occurred to him to insist on at least seeing whatever painful thing she planned to spring on him. Realizing what he'd just done was a turn on. She used his hair to lift his head up to an angle that allowed her to place a couple drops of tasteless liquid on his tongue. At first, he was confused. Had she drugged him, or what? Then he felt the burn and squeaked in alarm.

She patted his cheek. "It's just capsaicin."

Where on earth did she come by this stuff? It was worse than the most insane hot sauce he'd ever tried, but the fact that Lene came up with the idea, and gave it to him withoutasking, was even hotter than the burn in his mouth. Keening came from his throat, and his eyes filled with tears so that her face became a blur. The chemical reminded him sharply about the damage to his tongue.

She leaned down and kissed away the first tear that ran down the side of his face.

Jamie closed his eyes to shut out as much of the world as possible while he struggled to process the heat. The world would not be shut out, though.She foiled his plan by reaching behind her back and wrapping a hand, wet with spit, around his cock and stroking him from hard to harder.

He swallowed a mouthful of drool and tried to recover his wits enough to return the favor. Though he managed to rest a hand on her thigh, anything more complex was beyond him.Lene lifted his hand, kissed the back of it, the fingers, and the palm, then laid it back on the ground.

She lowered herself onto his cock in one smooth easy motion, and made love to him slowly while the pain in his mouth ebbed as his tongue went numb. Just when he thought he was about to regain the power of speech so he could tell her how amazing that felt, she sat still on top of him and he smelled rubbing alcohol. A moment later, she doused his arms with it and spilled some onto his chest.

Saturday afternoon in March: Lene let herself into his apartment while he was in the shower. Since Josh was away for spring break, she called out a hello and walked right into the bathroom. She hopped up on the bathroom counter and watched him through the glass shower door.

He took longer than necessary in the shower because the way she stared at him was good for the ego. When he ran out of parts to wash that she hadn't already seen him wash, he stepped out of the shower and wrapped himself in a towel.

She uncapped a stick of Lene-colored makeup. "Come here? I want to see something."

"You didn't already see enough?" He took two steps to cross the tiny bathroom and kissed her on the forehead.

Her gaze flickered down and she made a pouty face at the towel. "I was just thinking that if I cut you, it could scar, and if it did, you'd want to like the way it looks, right? So can I draw on you and get you to tell me if it's okay?"

"Sure, but don't think I'm going to let you put makeup on me all the time. I'm not that kind of guy." Lene's sharp look made him qualify that in a hurry. "Not that there's anything wrong with being that kind of guy. I only said I'm not one."

She drew four diagonal parallel lines on his left arm near the shoulder. "You could blame these ones on a cat if you want." She added a fifth at a different angle on the right arm.

He checked out his reflection. It looked okay. "Perfect." He wanted her to feel good about it.

Lene touched the blade to his arm and waited a long moment. He flinched and held his breath. The knife scared him, though he had no intention of resisting. Even if she'd put the knife against his throat, he probably wouldn't have stopped her. She applied pressure and drew the blade along his skin in a single, smooth motion. The finely serrated edge tore into him and alcohol flooded the shallow cut. He exhaled through clenched teeth. His arm twitched and his hand curled into a fist, but he let her cut him. She rocked her hips back, chasing the trauma with pleasure.

Each cut hurt like hell and took him down farther into surrender, to sub-levels he didn't know existed, until Jamie wasn't just out of his mind; he was out of himself. He was everywhere and nowhere, looking down at Lene at the same time as he looked up at her, though his eyes remained closed. The knife bit into his flesh again, while cool ground water seeped into his roots and the night air stirred his branches. He saw himself with Lene's eyes, through a haze of adoration and lust. The earth tasted of blood.

Time stretched out thin as spider's silk over the span of one skipped heartbeat. He knew the things that were, and the things that waited to be. Seeds lay dormant in the earth, ready to grow into wildflowers, vines with big rounded leaves that catch the morning dew for thin striped lizards to drink, and a thicket of raspberry bushes. The breeze teemed with spores and grains of pollen. Under a flap of bark, hundreds of larvae waited in suspended animation inside eggs for a cue to hatch. They would have feathery antennae and hairy legs when they were grown. A human daughter with mouse brown hair in pigtails chased seagulls on the beach in one hazy possible future. Life held its breath, waiting for a word, and the word was. . .

"YES!"

Yes to green, to leaves, feathers, scales and hair. Yes to waking, growing, mating, soaring, and fleeing. Yes to pleasure, pain, ecstasy, and horror. Yes to all of it.

Jamie's heart contracted, and the entire forest shivered with orgasm, even Lene, who was caught by surprise. She hugged him fiercely and babbled his name over and over. The woods whispered his name, too. He wrapped his arms around Lene and bled on her. The moment receded until he was just himself again, and everything hurt. He shivered. When did it get to be so cold? Lene fussed over him, tending to the cuts on his arms and brought him into the tent to warm him up with her body heat between sleeping bags. He meant to cuddle and apologize for calling her names, but heavy dreamless sleep dragged him down without warning.

Lene woke and dozed off several times while the day brightened and the tent warmed up. Jamie surprised her by staying asleep when she eventually scooted out from between the sleeping bags and climbed over him twice to get dressed and put on sunscreen. She left the tent to pee and get breakfast down from the trees. Her cell phone said it was noon. She brought a bottle of blue electrolyte drink and a box of Fruit Loops back with her for Jamie.

Something red on the ground near the tent caught her attention. Tiny wildflowers had sprung up overnight in the dappled sunshine where their sleeping bag had been; blood red flowers. She was positive they hadn't been there yesterday.How odd. As she crouched down to inspect them, a white butterfly landed on one, unfurled its proboscis, and inserted it precisely into the center of the flower.

Jamie still slept when she got back in the tent, but stirred and rolled over as she sat beside him, drinking water. The purple bruise on his left cheek, overlaid by five o'clock shadow, startled her. She hadn't seen it at all the night before, though she remembered with perfect clarity the moment when she must have given it to him. The memory made her go squishy inside all over again.

She peeled the sleeping bag down to examine his back. The crisscrossed welts that had been just a pattern of light and dark in the moonlight took on various hues of red, blue, and purple in the morning sun. She brushed her fingers over a dark red line, a little raised. That, too, conjured up a scene from the night before. Once upon a time, she'd have found marks like this on his body ugly and distasteful. Now, they were a reminder of the bond they shared, and beautiful like every other part of him.