The Invisible Hand Pt. 02

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!

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As soon as I wake up, my hand slides between my legs, only to find metallic thorns. He puts his hand on my forehead and drags me backwards, to bite me between my shoulder and my neck, making me yelp.

"What are you doing, pet?" he whispers, as he releases my poor flesh, leaving a pink shadow of his teeth on it.

"I was checking that I was caged," I reply, with a half-truth.

"You remember that your pussy is mine, don't you?" he hisses threateningly, only to bite me again.

I quickly nod, trying to ignore the sharp pain where his teeth press on my skin. It is then that I notice that my collar is warm. A quick exploration with my hand finds the electric wire of its charger lying on my pillow. I pull it away and go back to sleep.

When I wake up for the second time, I'm alone in the bed. I check the time. Shit, it's already 1 p.m.! Oh well, I have texted Sadie last night that he's here, so she knows that I'm not coming to the store. I check my phone anyway. A dozen of messages! All from her. I quickly skim through. Excitement for tonight… Suggestions required… What to wear… Panic… Ok, I'm calling her.

"Hi doll!" I greet her, the way she likes.

"Well good morning, boss!" she mocks me. I grunt.

"I'm sorry, last night was… Well, a long one." I mumble.

"Yeah, our favorite psycho sent me the end result! He's skilled!"

Why does he keep doing that? My blushing and the tingling in my pussy answer for me.

"Oh yeah, very skilled!" I admit "But enough about me! You need to chill! It's just a date, he assured me he has other candidates!"

"Yeah, but…"

"Look, tell you what, we are going with his car anyway, so I'll just come an hour earlier and we can talk about clothes and all before he picks us both."

"You sure? I don't want to steal you… How about you both come here? I'm comfortable with him."

"Ok! Sometimes I feel you two are secretly besties anyway."

"Hey, he sends me your pictures, I never asked!" she defends herself, lowering her voice when she adds "Not that I ever complained…"

"Yeah, sure… We'll be there at six!"

"You're the best!"

I sigh as I hang. Where is he?

"Here!" he says, appearing on the door, naked. He's holding a small bowl.

"Good morning, demon mine!" I purr, stretching on the bed, hoping that he jumps on me.

Instead, he just walks with a smug smile.

"I brought you breakfast in bed," he announces as he sits down, showing the content of the bowl.

While I instinctively grab his cock and begin a slow massage, I suffocate a grimace: it's a chocolate mousse. It doesn't really get fattier than that.

"Thanks," I begin, aiming for the spoon, but he slaps my hand, while his dick grows bigger in the other.

"Uh huh," he says, shaking his head with a sly smile, "I know that you don't feel like eating, so I decided to use my grandma's trick for making me take a bitter medicine."

I frown, a little annoyed by his paternalism.

"The secret is to hide it in something yummy!" he explains, as he takes the spoon and, leaning against the pillow, he spreads the mousse on his dark brown dick. Oh, I'm sure it goes well with chocolate! I want to lick it already, but he keeps my head away until he has covered it completely.

As soon as I'm allowed to, I enthusiastically clean all the cold mousse on his member, smearing it all over my face. I feel so fucking dirty right now! He's enjoying himself too, as he caresses my back.

"Where would you like to finish, my love? Mouth or ass?" I ask.

"Ass," he says.

Deepthroat just after a meal is not a good idea anyway. So I straddle him and I kiss him, while he opens the tube of lubricant and works my hole. His finger feels so good, but I want his dick and soon I'm indulged. He opens me up, pressing my sensitive sphincter, while he plays with my nipples and I kiss the top of his head. I massage him slowly, to maximize our joint pleasure, until I feel his warm squirts inside of me. With a fluid movement I get up and slide to suck his cock clean, taking my time.

"Did you like your breakfast?" he asks, scratching my head.

I nod, with his member in my mouth.

"So, tonight we are going to my friend's house. We'll get to know each other better and after dinner I was thinking to play a little together. You are to entertain all of us."

I want to say something, but he grabs my hair and pushes the dick back inside. My voice is reduced to a hum of surprise.

"Then, if your friend feels like it, she can join. It's perfectly fine if she just wants to watch or participate as a dominant, remaining dressed and all that."

I'm blushing, but I'm also nodding again. It's going to be a terrible delight.

"Good. Now, why don't you put on your plug and come here to relax with me?"

As always, I obey without question. We spend a nice afternoon chilling and chatting, not a care in the world, something that he really needs to recover from the stress at work. At exactly six o'clock, we are ringing Sadie's bell. My demon prizes punctuality. He's wearing a nice pinstriped suit, with a burgundy tie, and small, round sunglasses. I joked saying that tonight he's my Morpheus, from Matrix, because he's also bald. He smacked me hard on the ass and replied:

"Would he do this?"

"He should be so lucky!" I replied, kissing him.

Someone is opening the door. I really hope it's not any of Sadie's parents, with whom she still lives, because I'm wearing a long unseasonal coat to hide my slutty attire and if they volunteer to take it out for me, we're screwed.

"Hi guys!" greets us Sadie, for my relief.

She's wearing a black bunny pajama. She's so cute!

My demon bows a little and kisses her hand, for her delight.

"Hello dear," he says, all serious. I desperately want to mock him for his excessively formal manners, but I'm still not sure that Sadie's parents won't see us when I pay the consequences.

"Hello Eric, please come in!"

It's weird hearing his name. I rarely use it. In my head he is… He. The implicit reference to a man, because he is an implicit man, someone who might not be obviously present and yet is always with me. Who else might I be referring to?

Anyway, we enter and go directly upstairs, to her room. It is a very peculiar place. While the rest of the house is decorated in a modern style, here everything is antique. The walls, for example, are covered with an old-timey wallpaper with a silver flowery pattern over a midnight blue background. The dark floorboards, the tall sliding doors of the wardrobe decorated with a black and white autumn scene of falling leaves, and the big red leather Victorian armchair contribute to the gloomy atmosphere. Her four-poster wrought iron bed is partially hidden by dark velvet curtains and the impossible amount of dresses that she has selected for us to choose from.

"Oh dear me…" I murmur.

"Yeah," Sadie admits, with a sorry grimace "I'm kinda panicking?"

"That's why we're here," he says, getting an approving glance from me.

"What are you wearing?" she asks in a sudden inspiration, unbuttoning my coat, while I furtively look to my back.

"Don't worry, they're not here," she quickly answers, only to gasp when she sees underneath:

"Holy mama!"

If clothing is something that hides your skin, then I'm not wearing any. My black laced dress, decorated with a series of black roses, is basically see-through and I have neither a bra nor…

"Where's your belt?" wonders Sadie, looking at my naked vulva.

"Well, Nadia is going to be our entertainment tonight," my demon answers "it'd be a shame not being able to play with her pussy, don't you think?"

Sadie blushes and I glare at him. He just raises his eyebrows. If I want him to stop, I just have to say the word. So easy… Damn it! I bite my lip and say nothing.

"I have something like this…" she's murmuring, passing her fingers on my dress, or, more accurately, my body. Her touch is almost electric to me, but I maintain my composure.

"I don't think it's a good idea…" I start.

"I agree, you are getting the roles backwards: if this was a movie casting, your date would be the actors and you the director," he adds.

Sadie is frowning when she says:

"But I'm the submissive!"

"Precisely!" my demon insists "The relationship you seek is somewhat unbalanced by its very nature, so it is important that you begin it with by claiming all the power for yourself, otherwise you risk being taken advantage of. Make them earn you submission!"

I'm so happy he came. Sadie seems more inclined to listen to him, because he's a dominant: after all, how could her submissive friend know how doms think?

"Ok, so?"

"So," I say, while I get one of Sadie's cutest pieces, a Victorian teal short corset dress with overlaying black lace, "you are wearing what I say."

She smiles at me when she takes it.

"And I just have the right shoes for this!"

She opens one of her huge wardrobe doors and she shows her endless collection of shoes. The pair she grabs, though, is even more insane than her usual, and indeed she blushes a little: calf-high wedge ballet boots, with padlocked straps.

"There was a huge discount on them!" she defends herself.

"Yeah, 'cause it's impossible to actually walk on them!"

Unless you could really walk on your toes and basically keep your feet in a vertical position.

"Please, I've done ballet ever since I was little and I practiced walking on these for months," she adds, trying to sound more confident, "I mean, these have way more ground contact surface than normal ballet boots!"

My answer is a very skeptical raised eyebrow.

"Don't judge me!" she jokingly yells as she run to the bathroom with the dress.

I turn my head to my demon. He's smiling. Oh no. His smile widens. Oh, no fucking way! He nods slightly. I sigh, hoping that I will find a discount too. This is all the brat's fault!

When she comes out, she's done her make-up too. As usual, her lipstick matches her clothing and it is glossy blue. She's the cutest gothic Lolita: her round face and naturally round lips give her a very doll-like look.

"Perfect!" I approve, while she twirls for us.

"I agree. Here, let me complete the look a little," my demon adds, extracting from one of his pockets a small leather collar, decorated with many tiny metallic flowers.

Before I understand what is going on, he walks, but towards me, not her.

"Put this around her neck and lock it," he instructs me, extending the collar to me, together with a chiseled heart-shaped lock and its key.

"Why?" I ask.

"Because you are the closest thing she has to an owner. She calls you 'boss' and she values your opinions above every one else's," he explains, very seriously "So, when she finally finds her master or mistress, they should ask you the key to her collar."

I can see how Sadie's eyes are shining now. This means the world to her. So I solemnly walk to her and put the collar around her thin neck, closing it with the padlock where her collar bones meet and then I kiss her on her forehead.

"Yes, you are mine now, and I won't let anyone who is not worthy of you take my best friend from me."

Tears are about to overflow from Sadie's huge fake eyelashes, so I hug her to spare her from the embarrassment, while I thank my lover with my eyes. He's just perfect.

When the moment passes, we choose among an impressive number of gothic bonnets one that goes well with the outfit, we settle for a couple of earrings shaped as the face of a bunny with an eye patch and we help her get on her feet with the boots. My feet ache just looking at her, but she seems moderately at ease and even shows off a little by bowing to us while she lifts one of her legs. A little shyly she also trusts me with the keys to the padlock that trap her feet in those instruments of torture.

We are ready to go.

The stairs are not easy, but holding firmly the banister, Sadie stoically refuses my help.

"What in the world are you wearing?" shouts a woman's voice.

Sadie is quite pale herself, but now her complexion is rivaling fresh snow. Her mother has just crossed the front door with two shopping bags filled to the brim.

"See?" I tell Sadie in a polemic tone, poking her on the shoulder, "People do not even see them as shoes! We cannot sell this model, no matter what Marcy thinks."

Sadie looks at me in panic, too flustered to understand my play.

"Wanna join on the bet, miss Richardson?" I ask.

Wendy Richardson, my friend's mother, seems confused too.

"Bet?"

"Your daughter thinks that she can wear these things for all night, but I bet she will capitulate well before and beg me for sneakers." I explain.

"Of course she can't, she would be crazy to do so!" the woman agrees.

"And that's why we cannot sell this model," I conclude.

"But they are not for, like, walking!" Sadie complains, finally catching on "You wear them if you know you won't stand for long! And I've not worn sneakers in years!"

Sadie would die before being caught in sneakers. I roll my eyes, catching Wendy's approval. She likes me for some reason.

"So what, this is a challenge?" she wonders, not completely convinced.

"Oh no, it most definitely is not. These are just the first of several pairs what we will buy and sell!" Sadie declares, defiantly, as she resumes climbing down the stairs. Her mom runs to help her, but my demon takes her arm first.

"I'm Eric, by the way…" he says, taking Wendy's hand, but with enough sense not to kiss it.

"Oh, sorry, right. I'm Wendy, this idiot's mother," she replies, eyeing her daughter.

Sadie just snorts and continues the descent.

"So, what are you guys up to?" the woman inquires. She is very protective and she still treats her daughter as a little girl.

"We are going to visit a friend of Eric's, who has bought himself a teppanyaki grill and claims to be able of using it, if you can believe so," I boldly claim.

"A what?" asks Wendy, lifting the bags again.

"It's a Japanese grill, mom," clarifies Sadie exasperatedly.

"It's a night of boasts, you see," I add, winking at Wendy, who nods shrewdly.

We say goodbye and head for the car.

"You know, it's eerie how good of a liar you are," Sadie comments.

I lift her skirt, under which I doubt there are panties, and give her a light spank. She is delighted when she squeals a little.

"I saved you, didn't I?" I scold her.

I don't know why I did that: it's got to be him, he's making it happen! My demon just smiles.

After a short trip in the car that has led us to the outskirts of the city, we arrive to the ugliest cottage in a street of nice, well-kept houses. It looks abandoned and its windows are all barred with planks of wood.

"Who's this guy again?" I ask, looking at the mail box, a square old metal case with a slot at the bottom that has been apparently hit with a hammer in order to widen its center. Two wholes have been poked above it. It kind of looks like a desperate face howling. A shiver runs down my spine.

"Not a guy," my demon says simply, his lips contracting slightly.

I frown: not exactly the point of my question.

"Ok, who's this woman, then?"

"Not a woman," he remarks, his smile wide now.

"Cool…" Sadie murmurs, while I still don't get it, but he takes my hand and opens the rusty gate, which protects a garden whose real owners were the weeds, growing high and wild.

With Sadie very slowly click-clacking behind us, we reach the door. It is covered with old broken planks of wood, as if somebody had tried to bolt it shut but whatever was in still managed to pry it open. I look around, but I don't see any doorbell. There is a big cast-iron door knocker, though.

"Wait!" my demon warns me, squeezing my hand.

Ok, I see now: he's got the wrong address. I doubt that anyone lives here. I look at him but he's staring at his watch.

"Ok, now we can knock: we were a little early," he announces.

I swear, sometimes I wonder if he's Swiss or something. He glares at me as he knocks the door:

"I must teach you punctuality pet," he hisses dangerously, making my knees weak and proving once again that he can see right through me, for he knows, he always knows.

Before I can wonder how he will make me pay for this, the doors open and… Well, now I understand what he meant. A person greets us and I can't tell if it is a man trying to look like a woman or vice-versa. Their hair is teal and black, styled either in a very short pixie haircut or just a normal man's hairdo, I guess. Their triangular androgynous face is quite emaciated, more than mine, so it's hard to tell the age, but I don't think it is more than thirty. The eyes, with icy irises, look at me curiously. Heavy black eyeliner has been applied on the lower eyelids, while on the upper ones a green color has been used. The lips follow the same scheme: black glossy lipstick on the lower lip, pierced vertically in the center, and green on the upper, the shiny barbell of the piercing between them. There is another one on the upper lip, just below the nose, at the center of a ring passing through its septum.

The stranger wears a simple black shirt left completely unbuttoned, tucked in dumbbell dark gray tight-fitting jeans. From what I can see, the breasts, if there are any, are almost non-existent.

"Hello, Bryn, this is my pet Nadia…" my demon says cordially.

I love it when he calls me 'pet' in public. The stranger looks at me with the most neutral expression and just nods solemnly. Damn it! I was hoping to hear Bryn's voice and finally determine whether they were a man or a woman.

"And of course our friend, Sadie," he continues, as we both slide aside like curtains to present the star of the show.

Sadie is very thrilled and almost squeaks an "Hello!", waving her hand.

Bryn steps forward, in silence and lifts Sadie's chin with one finger.

"What a cute girl…" Bryn comments, a little haughtily: her voice is that of a woman.

Sadie is frozen still, looking at the other woman as if hypnotized, and I understand why: it's almost as if Bryn is appraising her.

"Come in!" Bryn incites us, suddenly doing an about face and entering her house.