The Invisible Hand Pt. 01

Author's note (IMPORTANT):

This is a story set in modern times and does not include any supernatural/fantastic element . Rather, technology available nowadays (basically what's in your phone) is used to create the illusion of a supernatural power, for the benefit of the main character. How exactly this is achieved will become clear as the plot unfolds.

SUMMARY:

She learned to love her own body through his eyes, while every aspect of her life is invisibly controlled by her lover, whose uncanny intuition and perversion earned him the name "demon".

Now, she wants to help her friend find the same happiness and peace in submission she has attained, finding out instead that everything must change, no matter how perfect it looks.

RELEASE:

This work has already been completed and will be released in 4 parts, roughly once a week, to allow me to do some polishing based on the readers' feedback.

DISCLAIMER:

English is not my first language, so any comment on grammar and spelling is very welcome.

Don't continue if not comfortable with the following:

1) This story is slightly blasphemous.

2) Rough, straight and lesbian sex and a smidgen of erotic horror.

3) One of the dominants is anatomically a woman, but identify themselves as non-binary.

4) The protagonist is recovering from/battling with an eating disorder that is however not depicted. As it is stated in the story, her master's actions are only meant to help with it, not solve it definitively! That requires therapy!

*******************

I wake up as a voice whispers with a hiss in the total darkness:

"Rise, my love."

A shiver runs through my back and I wince, as I always do, every morning. It's incredible how I have still not gotten used to this. With a wary movement, I turn around. I can see nothing, the darkness is so thick that I can't even see myself. So I cautiously reach out with my hand. My heart beats faster in anticipation. Oh, the terrible things he will do to me if he's here! Biting my lip, I keep feeling around, methodically. I have to be thorough, because more than once he's just waited for me in a corner of my bed, ready to grab my hand, pull me towards him and subjugate my weak body with his bigger and stronger one. Shackles surround my bed, waiting for me if he catches me. My pussy tingles at the mere thought.

The corner. Nothing, he's not here. I sigh, disappointed and partially relieved. He won't make me scream this morning.

"I am always with you," his voice murmurs again in my ears.

Sometimes I think that he can really read my mind and I find myself smiling, as the roller shutters suddenly move and slowly let the sunlight in. I immediately close my eyes shut, to protect them from the stabs of the sun beams. While I rub them, my mind wanders to my childhood, when my mom had to literally grab my ankles and pull me out of bed in order to make me be on time for school. Much like my current awakenings, they were terrible and fun at the same time. Mornings have always been complicated for me.

Stop reminiscing! Precious seconds wasted! If I don't get up immediately he will know. He always knows and his disappointments are painful! Now on my feet, I regret immediately my hesitation: my head spins, I got up too fast. I let the world settle for a second and continue with my morning rituals.

First, the full-body mirror. My eyes, now accustomed to the light, see another me staring back. This woman is taller than average and that makes her look even thinner than she already is. Her prominent bones and muscles etch her skin with their shades, like a painting by Michelangelo, but she's not as strapping as his characters, quite the contrary really. Her figure is not defined by what she has, but rather what she lacks.

I sigh and step on the scale that is just in front of the mirror. I gained weight! I'm so happy!

"Good, pet, very good!" his soothing ethereal voice comments, sending waves of joy through my body. His body really. I have never managed to love it as I should have, but he does, and it is so much easier to take care of it for him than it is for my self-interest.

"You have pleased me very much."

All of a sudden, something happens inside the chastity belt that hugs my waist and forcibly separates me from my own sex. My thighs suddenly feel an irresistible attraction to each other and my knees grow weak as my demon's vibrating finger stimulates my clit. I so needed this! I used to masturbate every morning, as an incentive to wake up, but he owns me now and pleasure comes only when I give it first.

All my essence, my focus and my strengths are sinking in my sex. I reach for the wall for support. My hands and my forehead barely register its coolness and rough surface.

"Yes, my love, fuck me!" I whisper.

His breathing grows labored too, as he watches me and revels in the control he has on me. I know I do. A puppet in his unforgiving hands…

I am about to come…

"Yes, yes!"

I'm close…

And nothing! The vibrator dies. I should be disappointed but I know him. He's not the kind of master that just rewards his sub with a climax. He's going to have fun with me for all day, so that when I cum, I do it properly.

So, I get myself up straight again. Somehow, now the body I see is not the one of a woman, it's mine and looks slightly better than before. My finger caresses the metal of my belt, which features, sculpted in low relief, a brier bush in correspondence of my own. From there, it goes up to the belt itself that hugs my belly, which is decorated with a tattoo following the same theme: a single black rose rises from my vulva through the brambles and ivy drawn between my hips, to my small but firm breasts, illuminated by a crescent moon depicted on one of my breasts and stars drawn on the other. The leaves of the undergrowth depicted around it are made by verses of the lyrics of one of my favorite psychobilly songs, "The rose in the Devil's garden" by Tiger Army:

In shadow, it grows alone

Many things are dangerous now

In this garden we call home

Be careful as you make your way

Some things are poison to the touch

You've spent your life here in this place

You long to run away so much"

I love the melancholy of that song! I'm now absentmindedly stroking my nipples, both sporting a black metal ring through them, just to tease him, because I know he's watching. Will he do something? Licking my lips, I tug gently the two piercings, and all of a sudden the woman in the screen, my bewitched mirror, is not naked anymore. She wears a couple of knee-high laced up black latex boots, with really high heels, fishnet stockings and a burgundy latex microskirt with laced up sides, which, as per his rules, barely covers the butt cheeks. The bodice she wears is my favorite, black leather embroidered with a red abstract pattern, with matching arm warmers and fishnet gloves, which show the tattoo I have in my left arm: silhouettes of the trees in a forest and of the people hanging from their branches. This is what he wants me to wear today. He's got great taste: my legs might be too skinny, but they do look amazing with knee-high boots!

With a smug smile I bow my head in front of the mirror to silently thank him and head to the bathroom. I have relieve myself and do my morning enema. With a chastity belt, peeing can be quite messy, because, even though it has openings to let the urine trickle out, my vulva still gets soaked. Fortunately I bought myself a bidet, which has changed my life. After doing my business, I use it to proceed with a thorough anal wash and use a special hose to clean my pussy with soaped water that I spray through the holes of the belt. I could ask him to open it for me or even safe-word, so that it opens automatically, but that is only for emergencies. Moreover, I love being locked this way. I finish my grooming with a warm shower.

Now that I am clean, I go on my knees on the cold floor of the bathroom, pour a dollop of lube on my hand and begin fingering my asshole. I slowly tease its rim, producing shivers along my back that I nurture and savor, while I rub one of my nipples with the other hand. Only when I can resist no more, I slowly push and push, until, all of a sudden, I penetrate myself. It's weird how it always surprises me, and I love how it feels. This part of my ritual, in a way, has come to replace my daily masturbation.

I had never considered the possibilities that anal sex could offer before I met him. Now I am a changed, more complete woman, from that point of view. Not because I love it: I am fully aware that anal is not for everybody. I think that it completes me as human being because my anus is not a part of my body to despise or be disgusted by anymore. It's just part of me. It is hard to stress how important it is for me to see my physical being as part of me.

I better move on, before I end up pleasing myself without his permission. I've been a good pet until now, no sense in ruining it! So I fetch my butt plug, a monster that I would have never fathomed as something suitable for daily use, before he trained me to be his anal whore. I cover it in lube, hypocritically sigh for the ordeal that I am about to go through, and put it in front of my awaiting hole. Back and forth, I slowly push it inside of me and outside, gradually enlarging my gape. Come on! I feel so damn empty without it! He's surely done a number on me with the anal training. Finally, it goes in and all is as it should be!

Getting up, I wiggle a bit to make sure it is in place and fasten it to the twin steel rods that connect the front of the belt with the back, pushing my buttocks apart in correspondence of the asshole. Time for my pledge.

"My demon owns my heart," I begin saying to the bathroom mirror, looking in my own eyes, "Thus, he owns my body. My screams are for his devilish delight, my pain for his sadistic pleasure, my flesh for his lustful hunger."

As my speech approaches the part I love the most, I caress the steel collar around my neck, shaped like a bundle of snakes coiling around it. One of them holds a big steel ring in his fangs, resting where my collar bones meet. My finger traces it as I continue:

"He is the only thing I have to fear, the only darkness that inhabits my heart, and he's always with me. I will obey to all his wishes and I will be rewarded with sinful pleasures."

As always, I repeat it ten times, not as a droning prayer, like those I was used to when I was still going to church, before I became an atheist. No, I have to put sentiment in it, mean every word, because otherwise he will know and I will regret it.

Thanks to my demon, I learned that words are never mere sounds. I feel good now, strong, as I still look at myself in the mirror. My eyes linger on my collar, my most prized possession. He designed and built it for me from scratch. It is the source of his power over me. Well, no actually, that is my love for him, but the collar symbolizes it and makes it possible on a more practical level, together with my earrings. My earlobes are stretched to the size of a beer cap and are occupied with two bronze disks covered with arcane scripts. They act as a support for the other element of the jewelry, a metal snake that follows the shape of my ears, housed in the curl of my auricle. Its tail rests where the cartilage spirals just above the ear canal, while its head peeks right into it, after its body takes a sharp turn on my earlobes. That's how he can always speak to me: the snakes whisper with his voice in my ears.

No, no more daydreaming, or I'll be late! Back in the bedroom, I open my big wardrobe. Most of my clothes are dark, elegant and gothic in style, but they are of no importance now: I only dress exactly in the way he wants me today. Another quick trip back to the bathroom and my shoulder-length jet black hair is dried and straightened and my make-up done. I like to wear heavy black eyeliner and today I sport a dark red lipstick to match the skirt.

My demon has not requested any particular purse, so I fetch my trusty coffin-shaped backpack. Once outside, the cold morning air stabs me in a thousand different places. With a shiver, I begin my morning walk. In a sense, it's a walk of shame, considering just how lewdly short my skirt is. My shiny chastity belt is there for all to see as soon as I bend over a little. He knows, he always does, and he's enjoying it. I wonder if he's stroking his sex right now. I sure know I want to do it with mine!

My first stop is Starbucks. It seems that wherever you are, there is one of their cafes somewhere in the surrounding, which is good for me, because I have rules when I am outside. As it's easy to imagine, the thing about being in love with a demon, is that they tend to be cruel. It's in their nature: after all they feed off human pain. Mine has a taste for the pain that my feet experience as result of walking on very high heels, which is the reason why he wants me to wear them, besides the fact that I look really hot in them. So, when I am outside and I have to walk somewhere, the rule is that I can never rest. If I find a red light, I have to turn left or right or, if I'm in a hurry, I just walk in the opposite direction until the streetlight turns green, so that I can rush back again to catch it. If I stop for more than a few seconds, he will know and there will be consequences: a thing that demons are not, is forgiving.

Of course, one of the main consequences of this is that I can never plan a specific route for wherever I want to go. So I walk and walk, attracting the occasional stare for my skimpy attire. I should be used to this and to the heels. Yet it still works and I blush in shame and suffer in silence, for the pleasure of my demon. When in my random walk I stumble upon a Starbucks, I can finally rest. Most people in line are fidgeting with their phones, but I can't: he doesn't want me to lose the chance of spotting someone lusting after me.

Today I need to…

Fuck!

His invisible finger has found me again! A powerful vibration wakes up my sex, still eager to get its denied climax… Luckily for me the belt is sufficiently padded and the vibrations are inaudible, but the line is long and when it's my turn…

Shit!

My demon's hand is unforgiving and unrelenting, hungry and greedy, and it's fucking me even harder now! I bite my lip, I try to think about something else, anything else, but they see me! Everybody's eyes, I bet they see me! I turn around and a middle-aged man frowns. Is it my face? Or my behavior? Perhaps my attire. Does he know? The line is moving. I could get out… No, I couldn't, it's against the rules. He knows where I am and what I'm doing and he wants me to cum here, in front of everyone! The line moves again. I'm so lucky that the belt does not let me drip juices so easily, because my pussy is swimming in them.

No, no! The vibrations are even stronger now!

"Good morning!" a young employee greets me.

I must have looked at him with a very weird expression, because he's frowning and when he speaks again, he does it with the condescending tone that people use with addicts and mentally challenged people:

"What are you having today, miss?"

I can't think, I'm on the verge and my demon intends to keep me there for a long time, because his finger is more delicate now. I have a bad feeling. Yeah, he's definitely going to make me cum as soon as I open my mouth to place the order. The evil bastard!

"Miss?"

Someone grumbles about being in a hurry behind me. Fuck them! I take a deep breath and blurt, just moments before I reach climax:

"Latte and a morning bun to eat here! For Nadia."

Shutting my mouth so hard that my jaws hurt, I reach for my purse and take my credit card: I'm no condition of doing the simplest computation and use cash. Boy this is awesome and horrible at the same time! The man still looks at me with a mixture of worry and contempt. He must think that I'm a junkie prostitute coming back from a long night of work!

As soon as I'm done, I flee towards the first free table. The only thing I know is that I can't stand up anymore and I just want to scream. I wish I had a gag on now! No, wait, what? No, no, no gag in public! My eyes are shut, but it's like it's never enough and so all my facial muscles are working on separating me from the rest of the world and just enjoy my forbidden and sinful lust.

I don't know how long it lasts, I don't even care about my shame anymore, because, as I found out thanks to my demon, there is a very definite limit of embarrassment that one can feel. After that, you just sort of roll with it.

So, after a while, I find myself coming down with a labored breath. My eyes finally dare to open and I notice that a lot of people are looking at me. Now I'm sure that it's not my paranoia. By the time my breakfast is ready (my name is "Hanna" apparently), I thankfully feel more in control of myself.

I don't really want to eat, but he wants me to. I have to spend some time enjoying breakfast every day, choosing food that I like and finishing it, all of it, together with a hot beverage. With a sigh, I take a bite off the bun. I have to chew it for at least a couple of seconds, for he wants me to savor it before I swallow. I don't know how he checks this particular fact and I don't want to think about it, I just trust that he does, because he loves me.

Not a lot of people understand that. They think that what they long for is what everybody should desire, that somehow love is universal, but it's not. Take food, for example: it is always nourishing, but it comes in very different flavors, styles and traditions. Love is very much like that: even though it always nourishes your soul, it changes a lot, depending on whom gives it to you.

My demon's love scares most people, it sure would scare my parents if they knew, but it makes me happy and is what I need. They don't know what is frightening for me and how with him I feel safe from it. He truly gets me, he peers in the depths of my soul and sees it the way it is. He's not scared of the darkness within. That's why, when he whispers in my ears, I just do whatever he wants, to the point that he rarely has to punish me. My folks would probably fear that I'm somehow forced, but for me obeying is not about avoiding the punishment, because I could use my safe word and get away with it, it's a choice. No, actually it's not even that. It's me succumbing to the irresistible temptation of doing his bidding. This is the reason why I call him a demon and that's how he convinced me to give him total control of my life, to put on a collar and a chastity belt to which I don't have the key, and I've never regretted it. I revel in the exciting nightmare he has crafted for me.

With a longing sigh, I finally finish my meal and drink the last of the latte. Time to go to work. On foot, of course.

I own a shop specialized in alternative fashion and accessories, mostly gothic, but I also keep some fetish items. Since I'm also a good tailor, part of the merchandise is made by me. I prize bespoke and artisanal items. That's how we met, three years ago. He's a computer engineer, but he has a small side business, a passion project really: he makes chastity belts. He's made mine, of course, dedicating an entire month to it.

Anyhow, I found his work on the internet and asked him if he wanted to use my shop as a showcase and distributor. He was curious and so he agreed to meet me.