The Longest Night Pt. 03

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He enters the Scene, and She has a camera pointed on him.
2.6k words
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Part 3 of the 4 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 05/29/2019
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"Forehead on the ground, Cerdito."

She'd barely cracked the door, and She waited for the sound of my forehead tapping the hardwood floor before She opened it any further.

Even with my head down, I could see light pouring out from what had been my bedroom, until she walked in. Now it was Hers. As the door opened, it spilled out and over me. All I could see were the knots and lines in the wood under me, but it glowed.

I heard Her walking away, but just barely; each step was a soft puff of air. Her feet were bare. She was here, in my apartment, in Her bedroom, and Her feet were bare. My breath snapped in, and I made an effort to let it out slowly.

"Crawl forward, right onto the mat."

I kept my head down, inching into the room on hands and knees. She hadn't told me to look up, so I didn't, but I didn't want to either. The light was everywhere, screaming at me from what seemed like every angle, and with my eyes still adjusting, I didn't want to look up.

After a few steps, my fingers found the mat She'd been talking about. She'd laid it out in the middle of the floor parallel to the wall. It had a bit of tack and cushion.

"You can kneel right in the middle there, Cerdito."

I felt for the edges, still not looking up. The mat was just about as long as I was, and just as wide. I found the middle, folded my legs and pointed my body at the voice behind the light. It was quiet a moment, but then She laughed.

"You can look up."

So I did. And it was blinding. She had three lights pointed right at me. It took a moment, blinking into the onslaught, to realize one of the lights was actually mine. My desk lamp was turned and pointed right at the middle of the mat, and the others were beaming circles that glared on either side of it. My eyes adjusted a little, and I could make out a tripod behind the lights. A webcam.

"Say hello, Cerdito," She laughed.

I said hello. Behind the lights, and the tripod, and the camera that was pointing down on me, I saw Her finally, sitting behind the gear on my bed. With all the light in the room pressed on me, She was made of silhouette and subtle motion. I could make out bits of Her hair curling off to the sides, the lines of Her crossed legs, and an arm, bare to the lip of Her shoulder, illuminated by a laptop screen. My eyes were fixed there, on every muscle, as She lowered Herself down a few inches to see the screen.

"They said hi back." I could hear the grin in Her voice. "They like the outfit." This did explain the mask. We'd negotiated over that. I'd been on video before, but I always kept my face out of frame.

"The outfit was all you."

"I like what you did with the body paint."

"Thank you," I said it too quickly.

My bed creaked a little. She was leaning forward over Her knees.

"A little louder when you say that."

I said 'Thank you' again, with a full voice.

"Never say that unless you mean it."

I nodded.

"And never say that in a way that makes me doubt you."

I nodded.

The bed creaked again. She leaned back and typed something into the computer.

"Thank you," I said.

The typing stopped. I took a breath, and straightened my back. My hands came behind me, and I parted my knees a little. When my lips parted, and I breathed out, I sunk deeper into position. Then, I lifted my chin to the camera.

I swear I heard Her smile. A happy little hum floated down as I braced myself.

She typed a little more. Then the enter key. She watched the screen a moment.

"They say you look too comfortable," She said.

"Can I ask who they are?"

"No," She said lightly. A point of fact. "All you need to know is they're watching. And I think they would like to see this."

She grabbed something from off the bed, and Her hand flicked in my direction. A moment later, I felt a chill smack into my chest, and metal falling into my hands below. I looked down and saw two black clover clamps in my hands, laced together with a black metal chain. I turned them both over in my hands, looking over the grips. There, just below the catch, was a silver line scratched into the black surface: the scar from the night I tripped wearing them, tangled in a ladder tie. The clamps were mine.

When I looked up, She was waiting for me.

"You told me where you kept your toys, Cerdito," She said. "Can't blame a lady for looking."

My mind immediately started running through an inventory of that drawer. There were old favorites and things I still hadn't tried. It was also where I kept most of the old charging cables. No one had bothered to make a USB 3.0 compatible bullet yet.

"I found some interesting things." She ran Her hand over Her collection on the bed. I couldn't see what She had, but I could hear the sounds of everything rustling against each other. "But for now, I think those are all you need."

I nodded. I'd already stalled too long. I dropped one of the clamps, and brought the other up to my nipple, holding it still with the other hand. I put these on enough times to have a method: smooth but fairly fast. You'd think slow might go easier, but it doesn't. It just lengthens the pain, and gives your body time to squirm into the bite. A sharp flash ran over my chest, but my hands were already moving to attach the second one. I pulled a breath, and let it out as the second one bit down, a tingle topping the flash of red.

I'd placed them to dip straight down. The clamps and the chain ran down over my chest, cool against my skin. I pulled my hands back behind me and turned my chin up to the camera. With every breath, my skin moved just enough to draw another small bite.

She looked down at the screen and typed a bit more. Then after a moment...

"Turn to the side," She said. "Palms down on the mat."

I nodded and turned. As I leaned forward, the chain from clamps skimmed the surface, looking like early goings in double dutch. The clamps themselves couldn't have weighed more than a couple ounces, but I felt all of it as the chain swayed.

"Hmmm...I think I know what we should play." She uncrossed Her legs, and I could hear Her lean forward. "Put your right hand over the chain, Cerdito."

I balanced on my left, and fit my hand into the arc of the chain.

"Press your hand down."

My fingers found the floor first, then my palm followed. The chain pulled taut, and my body lurched down instinctively.

"Your palm is too much. Hold down the chain with your two middle fingers only."

That released a couple more inches of chain, and I tried to press myself up into a more respectable position. My chest was already flushed and warm.

"Good. Now," She said, typing a few more words into the laptop. "Put your left arm behind your back, and straighten your right arm until the chain is tight." Then She hit enter.

The flash of pain ran down from the bite like a wave. It raced through my skin, almost up to my neck. I locked into the position, half way through a push up, and held on, while waves came in steady like a baseline.

"Good. Stay there, Cerdito." She grinned as She typed. "Remember, they're watching you, so if that chain goes slack, one of us will catch it."

I bobbed my head, breathing in time with the waves, hoping that would help.

"So, here's the game, Cerdito." She leaned back on Her palms and crossed Her legs again. I stole a glance over at Her, and my eyes had adjusted to pick up a few more details. It wasn't just Her feet. Her legs were bare. My eyes ran up along Her calf, over Her thigh, and halfway there, a pair of black boyshorts interrupted. Above that, there was a green asymmetrical shirt dripping loosely over Her. She looked perfectly comfortable. She was dressed for Tuesday on the couch with popcorn. She came to watch.

"Cerdito?"

My heart stopped. I'd been lost in Her legs and missed everything She asked.

"What did I just say?" She asked.

I froze. She grabbed my desk lamp and shined it directly at me. I physically felt my eyes dilate.

"I...I don't know."

"Were you distracted?"

"Yes."

She looked at the laptop.

"Oh, they are really not happy with you."

"I'm sorry."

"Straighten your arm, Cerdito. Slowly."

I did. I went as slowly as I could. Every little bit I moved lit up another stinging rivulet running down over my chest. The skin pulled and stretched.

"Keep going. Keep going until you start to feel the clamps move. You are not allowed to let them fall off. Do you understand?"

My head flopped. It wasn't a gathered nod anymore. As my nipples pulled away, I felt more and more of my skin stretching. The warm waves kept growing.

"Are you there? Are they just about to go?"

"Yes."

"Good. Hold it there," She said, settling back onto Her hands. "Now, I was going to make it a little easier on you, but they won't have that. And we wouldn't like them to be unhappy." She typed a message into the laptop and grinned at the reply. "Here's what we'd like you to do, Cerdito. Those lovely sequin shorts your wearing. If you brush them one way, they turn purple. If you brush back they turn silver. Right now, they're all purple. But we think your ass would look better in silver."

I bobbed my head along with each period, trying to keep focus. My right arm was starting to shake a little. Even on my knees, balancing on one arm mid-push-up was straining me, especially when every twitch of my arm resonated up into my body.

"So, use only your left hand, and make your ass silver for us."

The left cheek was easy. I brushed over them, and they turned with a pleasing pitter patter, like light rain. I turned my hand over and reached for my right cheek. My fingers reached, and as I pressed, I arched my back to reach.

My body lurched forward in response. My chest had pressed up in the arch, and the clamps dragged me back. I shot out a breath, not even realizing how hard my lungs had snapped shut. Tingles ran over my lips and the waves from chest were threatening my shoulders and crawling up my neck.

"Keep trying, Cerdito. We want every sequin turned."

Slowly I reached back, dropping my shoulders, and dipping my hips down.

"You get a prize when you finish."

I could reach farther with the back of my hand, but I couldn't grip. With the palm down, I felt my shoulder knot. My right elbow was shaking now and making it even harder.

"Farther, Cerdito. You can reach farther."

The shorts ran down an inch or two past my butt cheek, and She wanted those two inches. She wanted all of it.

"I know you want your prize. We want you to earn it."

I pressed my arm down as far is it could go, feeling muscle and tendon stretch farther than they wanted. My shoulder mouthed a warning at me, but I had to get those last few for Her.

"You're so close." Her voice was closer. She was leaning in. "Push yourself for those last couple. The moment you get them, I'll tell you what the prize is."

I arched my back again, feeling the bites ratchet down. My shoulder was a siren now, screaming warning, as my arm circled farther out of socket. The muscles in my fingers shook from the strain, and as I reached, I felt my fingertips catch.

The next few seconds took a lifetime.

I felt the sequins fall over, and the moment they fell into place, She clapped.

Then She barked the command, "Good! Now straighten your right arm." I was between breaths and I paused. She yelled again. "All the way. Fast. Now." My left arm was falling down, released from the strain, and I turned my head to Her. "Now! Straighten your right arm, now!"

I didn't think. I just did it.

Thunderclap and lightning strike. The momentum of punching my hand down had thrown my chest backwards. The clamps shot off , landing in a heap in front of me as my body tumbled back over my feet. A sound fell from my mouth. It might have been a word, but if it was, it wasn't any word anyone has spoken in some time. One long vowel, a crash of consonants, and the sound of sucking teeth.

I felt that sound come out of me. I felt my body tip back, loose in the air. But mostly I felt the sear on my chest. For a flash, every nerve stood at attention, making the same primal sound that I'd yelled into the Brooklyn night. My shoulder blades landed back on the mat, and I managed a few gasping breaths, that stretched my chest, resonating pain and tingles from the experience.

It was quiet for a moment, except for my ragged breath, but I felt Her eyes over me. Then She spoke.

"Take off the shorts."

Her voice was perfectly even now. Usually, I could feel an intent behind the words, leading me somewhere, but this rung like a bell, chiming through the room.

"Now."

Not even urgent, but firm. I fit my fingers under the shorts, but over the fishnets, and pressed down.

I was exactly as She wanted me to be, excited but caught. I'd been staring up at my ceiling, trying to catch my breath, while the tide rolled back slowly, but now with the cool air making light brush strokes over the lines of sweat on my body, I turned my head to look at Her.

Her left leg crossed over Her right, foot tapping to some music playing just in Her mind. Her left arm draped down over Her leg, Her right crossing Her chest, and gripping the opposite shoulder. The fingers on both of Her hands curled in and out. Fingertips playing across Her calf and shoulder, playing at the idea of touch. She was grinning at me.

Our eyes touched, and She immediately leaned back. Her left foot came to the floor, and She went back to typing. I allowed myself to watch Her a moment. My face was still flush, and I could feel my pulse in my cheeks. The waves still washed up over my chest, even if the crests were getting smaller. And the beads of sweat seemed to be drawing in the cold around me. But looking at Her, at how Her hair shook just a little when Her eyes shot back to the beginning of a line, all I felt was warmth, and a tingle in my lips.

********

The scene continues in part four.

Special thanks to macktosh for their help editing this.

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