The Awakening of Angel Ch. 12

9 Aug 8:50 PM

Circe

I was drained and exhausted, but not as much as Tillman thought. When I felt him undoing the shackles I went limp and he caught me, which is what I wanted. For one I didn't want to be back on my knees again crossing the floor. But my main purpose was twofold.

Firstly I wanted him to think I was exhausted because that would make him feel like he was in control. Now you might be somewhat perplexed as to why I believed Tillman might not feel in control. I did a lot of thinking when he was sleeping on my chest, well, after I got done masturbating anyway. Alexandra had told me about the horrible murder of his fiancée and his inability to do anything about it. Add to that the nightmares he had and his inability to stop them. The final piece of the puzzle to me was the gun by the bed. That thing just had a bad aura to me. One that spoke of a last resort and not one of personal protection. Now I couldn't prove it in a court of law but my intuition about things was usually right. Suicide is what people do when they can't control things and they feel trapped. It's a final way of gaining control and escaping.

Secondly, I wanted him to carry me. Yeah, yeah, I can hear some of you already. Strong women don't need a man. Strong women don't need a man to carry them. You were swooning like some Southern Belle with the vapors. Well here's the deal. Tillman carried me once before and I liked it. He was strong and carried me effortlessly like a rag doll. Listen, I can take care of myself and be successful in whatever I choose but I wanted to be close to him. Every time he touched me it just made me want more. Look at it this way, I was being a strong woman by going and getting what I wanted. Hopefully that makes sense to my detractors. If it doesn't then there's not much more I can say to convince you.

In this case I got what I wanted and he threw me over his shoulder. The side of his face was pressed against my hip and my tummy pressed into his shoulder. I was telepathically begging him to slap my ass or reach up and slide a finger into me, but apparently he wasn't tuned to my frequency. We covered some distance and he laid me down on a rough wooden surface like a table and removed the hood.

"Slave, roll over on your stomach and place your hands behind your back. From here on out any delay in compliance, no matter how small, will be dealt with most severely."

Perhaps I was just a little too slow or Tillman just wanted to make a point but in any case a riding crop came down sharply on my ass. Yes I let out a pretty loud "ouch" and then quickly complied. Tillman grabbed my wrists roughly and held them together and then I felt a rope going around them. Now this wasn't just some rope tied like you see bad guys doing in the movies when they tie up hostages. No, this was a deliberate placement of each wrap, carefully positioned and tested for proper tension before the next wrap went around. The ropes didn't hurt but they were completely immobilizing and I guess the word that described them was "elegant." My ankles and knees received the same treatment and Tillman told me to sit up on the edge of the table but offered no assistance. Have you ever tried to do that with your hands and legs tied? It's not easy and I was starting to feel helpless. Definitely didn't like the feeling.

There were more ropes of different lengths and in reality it turned me on. Not so much the ropes themselves but the amount of thought and preparation he had put into the process. A band of ropes went around my waist and above and below my breasts and these were all applied as carefully as the wrist and leg ones. Ropes were laced vertically on all sides of my breast and the tension forced them out and up, kind of like those lingerie bras with no cups. My wrist ropes were cinched to the those encircling my waist.

"Lay back down on the table and on your side, facing me."

There was no riding crop this time so I guess I was fast enough. He took another piece of rope and attached it to the ones around my waist.

"Spread your thighs."

It wasn't easy but I forced a gap. The rope was fed through and he reached around behind me and looped it through the waist ropes and then pulled it tight. The effect was that the rope slid in between my pussy lips and ass crack. I gasped at the sensation, especially the rough rope sliding across my clit. He then returned the rope to the front looped it though and went to the back again. When he was done I was basically wearing rope panties and the width of the rope created an artificial thigh-gap.

"Roll back onto your stomach and look to your right."

Whap! Damn, not fast enough again. I heard the click of a switch and the table lit up and I saw a mirrored wall that reflected the whole table and me on it. It was surreal and I'm not being egotistical but I looked good all bound up like that. Well except for my hair and makeup, but in reality the state of those fit the situation. I realized I looked like some of those bondage pictures and videos that I'd seen on the internet.

I watched my reflection as Tillman gathered up my hair and put some sort of device with a loop on it that held my hair in a ponytail. He fastened a single length of rope into the loop and my curiosity was really piqued as to what he was going to do with the other end. I didn't know it but the answer came when he held up what looked like a huge chrome fishhook but with a ball where the barb would have been.

"Do your best to relax or this is going to hurt."

A tube of lube came out and he applied some to the ball and then grabbed the ropes in my ass crack and forcefully parted them. I watched detachedly as he dribbled some lube on my hole and used his index finger to force the lube in. Then the ball end of the hook touched my hole and I tried my best to relax. It didn't hurt too much but it created an urge for a bowel movement. Thankfully that passed quickly. Tillman then looped my hair rope through the eye on the end of the fishhook and pulled it tight. Ouch! Now I get it. My head was pulled back by the hook and if I tried to put my head down it pulled hard on the hook in my ass. Bravo Tillman, elegant again.

Next he took a piece of rope and looped it through my collar and ran it back to the ankle ropes and pulled it tight. It was a variation of being hogtied and worked sort of like the hook. If I let my legs drop it pulled on my neck but if I kept my legs up I could tell my thighs would start to cramp. Tillman pressed another button and I saw two chains come down from the ceiling and Tillman hooked them to the ropes around my chest and waist. Then the chains started raising and taking my weight. The effect was an extreme arch to my back and he suspended me at shoulder height above the table. Tillman came around in front of me.

"Open your mouth."

He held up what looked like a penis shaped dong with a base and straps and placed it into my mouth and then fastened it to my head with the straps. The effect was that I had a cock in my mouth. The good thing was that it didn't go so far back that it hit my gag reflex and it was smaller in girth than Tillman's cock. I was actually wishing it was his size so that I could fantasize to help me through this trial. The mirror reflected a totally subdued woman and I really liked the image and the feeling. Regardless of my current state I was pretty sure that some real pain was in my immediate future once my body started rebelling against the abnormal positions.

Tillman walked over to a nearby counter and retrieved a glass and a bottle. He was pouring himself a drink! Whiskey if I was seeing it clearly. He turned his back on me and sipped at his drink. Now that was making a statement wasn't it? After a while he walked to a place I couldn't see him but could hear rummaging through cabinets. My muscles were starting to ache and the thing I noticed was that it seemed like it was every muscle but eventually they went numb. I found that the main trick was to not move my head since that pulled on the hook in my butt and really hurt.

He returned with some items in his hands, the first of which he attached to the rope that was directly in contact with my clit and plugged the attached cord into an outlet. The others items were some sort of rod and a feather. Okay, weird. I watched in the mirror in curiosity as he moved towards my feet and I saw the feather come up and begin to trace between my toes. Oh no! I was horribly ticklish on my feet and I squirmed to try to get away, but it pulled on the hook and pain shot up my spine. Within my mind I created an image that I was detached from my feet. Alexandra's yoga lessons had taught me how to do that and soon I had the sensation of the feather blanked out.

Then I figured out what it was that he had attached to the rope against my clit as it started vibrating. This was some sort of commercial thing and very powerful. Within minutes I felt an orgasm building and as it hit, my back started to flex, pulling on the hook again. I managed to not flex too much and the pressure in my ass coupled deliciously with the vibrations and another orgasm built. The vibrator stopped and simultaneously there was a "snap" and a painful shock on my thigh. It was a cattle prod, or something similar. A few zaps and I was able to yoga detach again which worked until the feather came back out and went down the center of my spine causing me to pull against the hook and the pain that came with it.

Tillman kept repeating the cycle over and over and added random applications of ice cubes applied to various areas. I got good at disconnecting the sensations right before it would cause me to flex but it had a downside. My tension was ramping up, just like edging in masturbation but the plateau seemed to be getting higher and higher and I was slipping into a trance-like state. After a little while I was no longer there. My mind drifted off and I was laying on a beach the cool water hitting me sometimes and then a hot ray of sun at others. In between was growing warm sensations from my pussy although I thought maybe I should move since it felt like I was sitting on a rock or something.

Tillman

So how did she do that? At first all the instruments were having the impact that I wanted until she gradually just stopped moving. At first I was concerned that she had passed out but her body was still reacting to the stimulus but in just a much more subtle way. Her breathing was not labored and I could see eye movement under her closed lids. Best I could tell she was using some sort of tantric control. I reached up and pinched her nose shut. It took a few seconds and then her chest started convulsing and her eyes snapped open. She tried to breathe through her mouth but the cock gag made it difficult. My thumb and index finger released the grip on her nose and reached back and released the gag straps. She tried to get a first deep breath through her nostrils but took a huge gasp when I pulled the gag out.

The look in her eyes flashed to anger and then quickly softened. Good girl. The vibrator came to life when I pressed the switch and I released it when I thought she was close to orgasm. She watched my hands intently expecting the feather or prod but they never came. All that happened was that the vibrations started again. I edged her for the better part of thirty minutes until the impending orgasms got within seconds of each other. Sweat was running off Angel in rivers and dripping onto the table accompanied by nearly continuous moaning.

Grabbing the lift controls I lowered her to the table. All the ropes had been tied with quick releases and I deftly flicked each one removing the tension almost immediately. The heightened state of arousal coupled with the sudden release of tension had an interesting effect. As soon as the ropes fell free she unfolded and started convulsing in a whole body orgasm that looked like an epileptic seizure. She began this sort of choppy wail that wasn't a scream and it wasn't a cry, but I could tell it felt good. The flailing concerned me that she might fall off the table so I held onto an arm and a leg. Within a few moments her back arched up and her hips started bucking and it culminated in a near continuous moan at the end of which she fell limp. She was out cold.

Looking down at her I had this horrible picture enter my head. A picture of her innocence and one of me as evil. In my zeal to find her hidden secrets had I gone too far? Had the mission become more important than the person? Was this an attempt to help a young woman or was it an interrogation? A sharp pain shot behind my eyes and I felt sick to my stomach. I decided it was time to end this and picked her up in my arms and carried her out of the dungeon and into the guest room.

Laying her down on the bed I removed the collar but didn't want to leave her that way since she was a mess and her knees were skinned up. Grabbing a sponge and pan of water I cleaned her up as best I could. Through all of that she stirred a few times, but for all practical intents and purposes she was dead to the world. I retrieved a white dress shirt and white socks from my room and got them on her, although it took some effort for someone who was so limp.

My attention turned to her knees and my heart sank. They weren't all that badly torn up, just enough to have bled some. God Tillman, what in the hell were you thinking? I went and got my medical kit and as delicately as possible, cleaned up her knees, applied antibiotic, and then applied "2nd Skin" which would help them heal very quickly. The image of her damaged knees resonated deeply inside of me and I hung my head. Thoughts of some of my actions in the dungeon slapped me hard in the face. Was I turning into a sadist? Turning into the very animals and dregs of humanity that I had been hunting down? I became so very unsure of myself and who I was and it ripped me up on the inside. I spun down into mental and emotional darkness.

"I can't go on with this Angel. I hurt you and my adult life has all been about hurting and killing people. I stepped way over the line tonight and you just rolled with it. I, I don't think I know who I am anymore or what I've become. I wanted to help you but I'm not sure that's what I'm doing. I'm so sorry..."

Decades of emotions exploded to the surface like and erupting volcano and tears rolled uncontrollably from my eyes. I sat there for a quite a while quietly sobbing and then got myself together, well mostly anyway. Covering her with the blankets, I kissed her gently on the forehead and left the room, turning out the lights on my way out. Very slowly I closed the door and pulled it shut.

10 Aug 12:22 AM

Circe

Although I was exhausted I didn't want to sleep until this was all finished. I was pretty happy that I had endured and been able to control myself. I felt a surge of new confidence. Confidence that my asshole of a sperm donor "father" had taken away. He had never shown confidence in me and always conveyed that I was weak and frail. Nothing was ever good enough and he had convinced me that I was somehow to blame. Over the years I had learned to compensate and bury my insecurity. Consequently most people thought I was a very strong and confident person, but inside I was just a beaten down little girl. All of this time with Tillman, all the difficult things he had put me through, were pushing the little girl into the past and she was slowly replaced with someone who I'd always wanted to be. I finally understood what Tillman was doing.

Tillman thought I was passed out and I didn't see any reason to have him believe otherwise. Besides, it felt luxurious to have him carrying me. I suppose back in the day, men carried their women quite a bit, but not so much anymore. It's probably fallen out of favor as being seen as demeaning to women. The "I can walk by myself and don't need anyone to carry me" sort of thinking, which was my point of view prior to this. Truthfully though, my beliefs have changed. Letting Tillman carry me is a way of letting him take care of me and display his care towards me. Yes I can take care of myself, but Tillman feels it's his role to take care of me. So if I "let" him do that, I'm still the one in control and I'm showing strength and confidence rather than helplessness and weakness. Does that make sense?

The gentleness with which he was carrying me was touching. After all the dungeon stuff he had to know that I wasn't fragile, and yet he was carrying me as though I was. And he had me pulled in tight to his chest, like he needed to protect me from the elements and hurt. His arm muscles were rock-hard under my back and knees. I know I've said it before but Tillman was strong and it always turns me on. The same care and gentleness was used to lay me on a bed and then the collar was removed. With a delicate touch he washed away the residue of the night's events and dressed me in a shirt and socks. Though all of this he was a perfect gentleman. It would have been an opportune time to take advantage of my lack of consciousness but his touch only carried feelings of utility. That is, he was just cleaning me up with no sexual connotation. This just made my feelings towards him grow stronger, even though part of me wanted him to take me in my "sleep."

He left the room for a moment and then returned. I heard him rummaging around in something but kept up my ruse of being deeply asleep so I wasn't prepared for the sting that hit my right knee. It took everything in me not to jerk and yell, but I pushed it all down and just made a slight moan. I figured it was some sort of antiseptic and was more prepared when he started on my other knee. He then dabbed some stuff on both of them and then put something on them that felt like plastic wrap.

Then my heart was ripped open when he began to speak, very quietly and almost inaudibly.

"I can't go on with this Angel. I hurt you and my adult life has all been about hurting and killing people. I stepped way over the line tonight and you just rolled with it. I, I don't think I know who I am anymore or what I've become. I wanted to help you but I'm not sure that's what I'm doing. I'm so sorry..."

Then he started crying. That shook me to the core. Women crying is just sort of the norm. What I'm saying is that it happens often enough that it's not really shocking. But there's something gut wrenching about a guy crying. It's so, what's the right word? Emotional? I'm not talking about some wimpy guy that's crying and whining. What I'm talking about is a guy who's sobbing from some deep inner well of hurt. I wanted so desperately to reach out and hold him in my arms, yet I knew this wasn't the time. He leaned over and kissed me gently on the forehead and I felt a few tears hit my cheek. Then he quietly left the room and shut the door. I hurt in a number of places but was happier than I had been in, how long? Ever? I reached up to touch his tears on my cheek and covered them, hoping to hold onto them and keep them from evaporating. It was even more apparent now that Tillman needed help and I wasn't going to quit now. The soft bed was a stark contrast to the rough hard table of the dungeon and I sank down into the waiting arms of the comforter and subsequent slumber.

10 Aug 1:15 AM

Tillman

The ceiling of my room had no notable features and yet I was staring at it like it was a Da Vinci masterpiece. My mind was looking at it and desperately searching for me, but I wasn't there. I was missing in action. Things had just become too much for me to handle. Just a few hours ago I had a gun to my head because it was the only escape I could see. That escape was interrupted by Angel who had manipulated her way over, the reason for which I still didn't know. Her excuse would have been plausible to lots of people but it didn't fly with me. I was hoping that the session in the dungeon would reveal the answer like the closet previously had, but no such luck. Angel had shown amazing resiliency and an ability to adapt. I couldn't figure her out. Enigma wrapped in a riddle wrapped in toughness sort of thing. No that's not right, more like an Enigma wrapped in a riddle wrapped in toughness and I was wrapped in her. I knew now that I was wrapped up in Angel on some level, and that wasn't fair to her. I was a mess and she didn't need to be dealing with a mess since she had enough of her own to deal with. She now knew what her main trigger was now and I had made a big part of that issue leave town, so she would be good from here on out. It was best to end this now. Yep. End the contract now. And the last person I'd become involved with, the one who'd trusted me to protect her, was dead now. I'd failed at that responsibility and I knew I'd fail at this one. Yep. End the contract today. I'd tell her as soon as she was up and around. Meanwhile I continued to stare at the ceiling.