GENTLE LOVE
Going out the way Traci had. I saw a room with low comfortable pillows and
bright colorful Afghans. A low plain wood table near the floor had wine, and
cheese, set upon it. The harem-like profusion of multi-colored pillows was
wonderfully luxuriant. Every shape, every texture and style. It looked like a
harem. Walls vibrating with a dark vibrant maroon hue. Moldings of natural
woods, carved in delicately twining vine-work. The leaves no bigger than my
thumb. The kind of turn-of-the-century craftsmanship that you only ever see in
these renovated mansions in the heart of the city. Built before pre-fabrication
became the normal way of building. The carvings were uniquely appropriate to
the room.
I saw Jon lounging against a small pile of fat pillows, smiling at me as though
pleased. I smiled back.
"Wine?" He asked, and I whispered yes, that would be lovely. "Sit, get
comfortable." I did. Warm, damp from the shower. The glass of Zinfandel, he
handed me, cool against my fingers. I sipped the wine, declining the cheese.
Feeling one thing. This was heaven. For the first time, in a very long time.
I felt I had a aspiration, beyond work. Here I could be myself and whom I was
inside. I had no expectations to meet. I was free to be as I truly am.
Jon was studying me carefully, as I looked at the detailing of the room. I was
content, simply happy. Like I had no other prospects, beyond being content.
Did I understand why I felt this way? No, but today the feeling was enough.
"How do you feel?" He asked me suddenly. His sharp eyes searching mine.
Strange to look the master in the face.
"I feel great." Traci laughed in amusement at my reply. Her pale-eyes
delighted.
"She means it, Jon." Her hands together in a small tent. "She's not ashamed,
or sickened. She's bone-deep, truly satisfied." I was a little puzzled, wasn't
I supposed to be? I thought that was the point. He asked me another question,
patting the low pillows next to him for in an inviting gesture for me to draw
closer.
"How did you feel when you cried?" were his words, as I moved next to him. His
big hands opening the tie on the robe, exposing my clean body to his eyes. His
hands moving as I watched them to slowly stroke my damp breast softly. "When I
told you that it was a woman inside you, not me." My breath caught in my throat.
"What did you feel?" It was suddenly hard to form coherent thoughts, to put
into words the shattering of my personal preconceptions. His tone was
commanding, and I didn't dare refuse to answer. Over the rapidly rising level
of lust in my heart, I spoke.
"I felt as if you had broken open my soul and peered into the darkness that I
keep hidden from the light." Brutally honest, and horribly revealing. Panic
circled my throat. `Tie me, Fuck me, but don't know me. Please don't open my
spirit to view. Please.' I thought these things, but did not speak them. His
fingers gently tantalizing my flesh, and soothing the rise of hair on my skin.
"I loved, and hated, you both." This surprised him. His eyes reaching my face
again, as his attention was captured by the elegance of what I was saying. How
I was expressing myself.
"Why?" He truly wanted to know. Traci was behind the table, moving the edibles
to another place along the wall. Carefully out of the way of whatever purpose
Jon had in mind.
"Because you took some of my darkness, into yourself. I had no will and no
thoughts beyond pleasing you were, everything else was gone. All that remained
was pulse, flesh, and bone." I looked down at his hands, moving in lazy circles
towards the apex of my now open thighs. "It was like you knew me better than I
knew myself." I was practically panting with exertion. He patted the table,
and in my visible, shuddering weakness I climbed upon it. Seeing his robe
parting before his stiffening cock, rapidly growing rigid, once more. Jon knelt
up between my open legs, taking a condom from his robe's pocket. I watched him
open it, and roll it gently over his own organ. I was floating in the lazy
warmth of the room... Pulse quickening... Skin tingling. His hot eyes meeting
mine as he rubbed the excess lube into my fresh-scrubbed opening.
I was stunned to stillness. Arms limp at my sides. This was not rough, or mean.
His fingers were careful, even soft. Not hurting me, as he spread me open.
Exposing me to his gaze.
I was suddenly confused. Trip-hammer pulse beating in my breast, my skin
heating under his hands. Traci a distant memory, fading from my thoughts.
Panic in my eyes, as he smiled gently. He carefully slid his thick organ into
me, stretching me until I groaned with rapture.
"I do know you." He said, as he moved leisurely in and out of my moistening
cleft. "A true slave can forget their humanity, and be merely the flesh. All
thought suspended." He ran butterfly soft fingers over the tips of my breasts
until I shivered. I had no idea what he was doing, or why, but it was taking me
to a new plateau for agonizing abandon. "Even in tears, your spirit never broke.
In the very center of your being is a core of ice that no one has ever touched,
have they?" I shook my head, looking away, and closing my eyes. This was more
humiliating than anything they could even contemplate doing to me in the
dungeon. "Look at me." He commanded and I did. "Traci and I have interviewed
many people in this house. Very few can give us the honesty that you have given
us." His deliberate thrusts were making me wet again. His unhurried hands on
my clean skin driving me almost crazy; his lazy voice an undercurrent to the
perfect fit of his penis inside me. "Most Submissives like the pain or the
humiliation, but not the subtlety of a good mind trip." He picked up the pace.
His hard fingers joining his cock, at the gate of my womanhood. Pinching the
clitoris, making it throb with voluptuous sensuality. Working me softly, so
delicately, that my mind filled with white-hot yearning. "I want to try
something different with you." Hard to breathe at the absolute erasure of
thought at his words. "I want the scene to start the night before... The week
before... We want to prepare you, open you. Lay the foundation layer by
layer." His big hands rested on my thighs as he pumped into me furiously. His
face starting to darken with the approach of his climax. I watched him in
breathless, eager anticipation, trying to feel it with him. The power of
intimacy. Wondering at the metamorphosis of ecstasy that changed a man in
control to a ravening beast. It was endlessly fascinating.
I writhed beneath him, helping him to cum. The strong internal muscles of my
vagina squeezing his thick organ mercilessly. His hands becoming hard and
urgent. His thighs hitting my pubis at just the right spot. I was not
surprised to feel our movements pushing me beyond the very edge of restraint.
He was making me orgasm with unadorned vanilla words and gentle fingers. The
master using me as a real woman and not some abject pet or thoughtless slave.
That was when he leaned over, and really kissed me. Sliding his tongue into my
open mouth plumbing my very depths. Twining his tongue around mine sweetly,
like a lover. I felt myself rupture in my soul. My hands hesitantly rising
from my sides, finding his back. Clutching hard at his buttocks with reckless
abandon. Running my sweaty hands desperately up his searing flesh, holding on
for my sanity. Gratification like this had been unheard of for me for many
years. Soft hands in my hair, and slick indulgence in my deep cavern. I bucked
beneath him, like a mare under a stallion. Opening my legs wrapping them around
his waist to give him more access. `Deeper, Master. Faster.' Moans coming from
deep inside me, in mindless profusion. I whispered his name over and over. A
litany to remind myself of where I was, and what was really going on. That was
when his velvet lips again silenced my words, my very ideas. His hands cradling
my face to bury it against his hard chest.
"Come on, Baby. Let it go." He whispered into my hair. "I want to feel it. I
want your climax, Baby. Come for me. Come for me, now." I couldn't stop it.
It flowed from somewhere so deeply buried in my psyche. It practically
shattered me. When I let myself go, I came in his arms as an equal. Back
arched, heart stopped, a scream of raw animal ecstasy tearing itself from my
throat. Vagina quivering around him, and clenching him tightly, mindlessly.
Feeling the bold shuddering pinnacle of his own pleasure by the strong hot jerks
of his cock against my sex. He clutched me against him hard, and pushed a
couple of times deeply into me. Pulsing against that elusive little ridge of
clitoral tissue buried deeply inside a woman, making me react to him once again.
He whispered against my hair. Patient easy words meant to soothe me. Quiet my
racing heart, and still the tremors inside my soul. `What had I done?' A sob
caught in my chest, almost sound, but not quite. He touched my throat, as I
turned my face away from him. More truly tormented by this simple act of
normality than by any elaborate bondage fantasy they could do to me. His tone
was bittersweet, and sad, as he spoke into my ear. His breath making me shiver.
"It's not all pain. Making love, to one, or the other of us, will be expected
of you, tender one." Tears again, running silently down my eyes to be kissed
away. "You can take the agony and the orders. It is the tenderness that moves
and scares you, touches you in places that you thought long buried." He was
right, and terror moved inside me. `Don't be right! Leave my heart alone!' It
hurt to have him this close. Knowing that my hands had pulled him near. My
lips had whispered his name. His instrument had taken my vanilla virginity.
"You want to be here with us. You need to know if this life is what you want,
or only a dark fantasy for you. Answer me, Anne."
"Yes." I whispered painfully. I wanted, no, needed to know. I opened my
tear-filled suffering eyes into his loving trusting ones. Nodding slowly.
"Yes, Jon. I need to know." New calmness coming over me. He grabbed the base
of the condom, and pulled his softening flesh from mine. Still laying over me
protectively as he tossed the rubber neatly into a small trash basket. I took a
deep breath suddenly shy. I had no idea what to do now. I looked around the
room. Traci was gone. "Where?" I started to ask, but he just laughed.
Pulling me off the table, and holding me against his hairy chest tightly on a
nest of soft warm pillows. Pulling an afghan over the top of us. Tucking me
in.
"I can handle this on my own, dear." I shook my head. "Not what you expected?"
I shook my head again. "I find that the ones who come to us out of a certain
internal desperation." I stiffened, offended, to move away, but he stopped me.
Arms tightening their hold. "Not that kind of desperation, but someone treated
to a pleasurable taste of the strap. The barest amount of bondage or servitude.
Often think that in order to enjoy the Life, they have to give up the sweet
gentle tenderness of vanilla sex." This astounded me. Although why I had ever
thought of my sexuality as a sacrifice, was a concept beyond me. The thing was
that I had accepted the loss of `normal' lovemaking as a matter of course. I
spoke up, interested in this idea. This intriguingly foreign concept.
"You make love to everyone who comes here?" I asked my voice low. Curious to
what he would say to me, because everything that he was saying had the ring of
truth to it. Logical progression.
"Had you been a lesbian. You would be in Traci's arms right now, but yes. I
make love to all applicants gently at least once in the first week here. Your
willingness to partake of this `delicacy' has given me some valuable insight
into your mind. This is very hard for you, isn't it?" I nodded. He hugged me
tighter until I relaxed against him. Almost enjoying the simple closeness he was
giving me. How long since I had just been held, and not pushed away after an
empty act of sex? The hurried oral sex in a car, the quickie? I allowed myself
to bask in his presence near me, touching some empty place in my heart, that I
knew he was filling. He continued speaking. The simple elegance of his mind,
flowing into mine. "Pain is always easier to bear, but not all is pain. When I
give you to a guest here, this may be the service that they require of you. A
simple act of love."
"What is love?" I asked suddenly, angrily. The mercurial thoughts flowing like
water out of me. "How can you tell? Is it you coming inside me? Is it the
simple human act of touching another person and feeling the essence of that
person? Is it not judging another person when they wake in the morning?" I
sighed. "I have never had love. This simple act of love that you describe is
beyond me. Laying in your arms, right now is so profoundly kinky to me. I barely
know how to act." He laughed a little sadly.
"Love is what you make of it. It is weak and strong. Firm and soft. I love
Traci and cannot imagine not rising to her every day. We think alike, and enjoy
the same things. We don't deny each other's sensuality or desire for others. I
love some of the slaves I've trained, and let other masters, or mistresses,
have. I love you." I shook my head, and laid it against his chest in mild
disbelief. A long sigh escaping me. "You don't understand?" Not really. Well,
maybe I did on some lower level. "I love every person who ends up here. The
outsiders searching for acceptance."
"Is that what I am?" I said it so haughtily, that Jon laughed out loud. I did
too. It was true. All my life I had felt like the kid on the outside of a
birthday party, looking at all the other `normal' kids having fun. Wondering
what set me apart from them. What made them normal?" "I understand, and you're
right." I sighed. "For all my life. I've tested the limits of acceptable
behavior. Just so far, and no more. Hiding, terrified." He nodded in complete
understanding. "There is steel inside me. Forged by holding back from every
aspect of my life. Never giving up control. Unable to let go." I played with
the tangled hairs in the center of his chest. "Tonight felt good. I cannot
guarantee to be perfection, or good all the time." I took a deep breath. "The
thing is. I like you both. I would like to do this with you. If you'll have me
here. I never expected what I got here, and I enjoyed the surprises."
There was an easy silence between us now. I could hear the slow steady beat of
his heart under my ear. Feel his pulse under my fingers. Alive, warm, feeling.
"You've seen a contract?" He asked, as he rubbed my back under the robe. My
mouth went dry at the sudden business-like hardness in his voice.
"Yes, One form of it." My voice was small. It was a safeguard, a surety
against accidents. An agreement with a checklist attached to it that had limits
and preferences, for the dominant to play with. So far, no more. I felt an
undefined tension melt from my shoulders. Another layer exposed by a firm set
of rules.
"I'll give you a copy to memorize, and you will be tested on it. The rules we
operate under here are very strict. We train slaves, and find them a place with
a master to love them." His voice was very matter of fact, and precise.
"Like a dating, matchmaking kind of thing?" He roared outright at this, hugging
me closer to him. As if I was some kind of rare treasure that he had found on
the street in a lucky twist of fate.
"For three months, as our schedule and yours allows. We will train you in our
ways of pleasure. It will be difficult, and uncomfortable. Be prepared for
that, and always remember it. It is what we do, and who we are. Be very clear
on that part of it. This kind of `normal' love is a rare occurrence for us." I
nodded. "At the end of that time, we will either find you a master or mistress
to subsidize your visits here, or send you on your way to someplace where you
can get what you need. Do you understand?" Slower nod this time, as fear again
shook me. "Read the contract this week, learn what you can from it. Think about
it seriously. I am hard, and demanding, but I turn out artists. Traci is the
same way. Our people are in demand in the Inner Circles, and I have seen some
of my people live the life full-time after my teaching, but it will not be
easy." Inner Circle? Full-time? Dazzling possibilities.
"Nothing worthwhile ever is." I said, simply. I meant it. He patted me
absently. "I cannot go on, just thinking about what I might be missing.
Everything you've said has had the ring of truth to it. I will do what you
suggest, and think about it carefully, Jon. I do not think I'll change my mind.
I have always had these feelings, and I will go absolutely crazy if I have to
deal with one more amateur, or unsafe situation, in order to have the kind of
mind-blowing orgasm I had when you told me it was Traci in me tonight." He
chuckled in my ear, and leaned up to grab the glass of wine on the floor by the
table. He offered it to me, and I sipped it. "What you have described to me
sounds good. I would like to have the opportunity."
"There are some rules that you'll have to follow this week, and come back next
weekend to start." I sighed in gratitude. My head bobbing in assent. "Your
orgasm is mine, no private stimulation. No outside contacts, and no talking
about our existence here. Can you agree to that?" He sounded very serious about
this, and it was easy to agree. Who would I tell? My mom? That's a pleasant
thought. She'd have me at Maumee Valley Psychiatric before I had the words out.
No, I could be silent, easily so.
"Yes, I think so. The no private stimulation will be the hardest part, but I
won't disappoint you." He smiled good-naturedly, eyebrows together in a playful
little frown over his dark-eyes.
"I know you have your own toys, so to speak. All beginners do. Bring them here
to avoid temptation. You will have a locker and a bath servant assigned to you
on Friday night. He will be in charge of you when you are here. He will bathe
you, cleanse you internally, and generally prepare you for any activities that
we have planned for the night." His tone was matter of fact. Business-like.
"You will be the lowest of the low here. Every single person will have access
to you. They will be able to use your body, your hot little mouth, or your
hungry tight ass, if they want too. You will have no choice in the matter. If
you resist them, or try to use your safe-word to avoid satisfying them. You
will be forced. Can you truly accept that, Anne?" I did not know how to explain
what his words had done to me. The sudden tightening in my sex. The first wave
of eager anticipation flowing wetly unto my thighs, so I took his hand to lead
it down to the burgeoning slickness. He found it, fondled it. Smiled in
pleased amusement at it. Putting his drenched fingers in my mouth so I could
taste my own smoky arousal. I practically swooned.
"No more for you tonight, little one. I want you eager, and ready for me next
week. Like you are now. Traci will want a taste of you next time, and you will
need to accept the fact that your own heterosexuality has no meaning here.
Slaves cannot choose." I accepted that. Part of the job. "I think you'll do
pretty well here, and at the end of the training time I will find you a master
to torment, and love you, as you need to be." His words gave me a frisson of
anticipation. Something to look forward too. I wanted to belong somewhere,
have people accept me for what I was. I was tired of hiding my true nature all
the time. I wanted out of the darkness that I was trapped in. His words would
have shocked the straight, repressed people I dealt with every day, but to me
they were like someone had main-lined a powerful aphrodisiac, pumping the blood
straight down to the apex of my thighs. How could I spend a week like this
without? Well, taking care of it myself? Sweet torment, but then he knew that,
didn't he?
I lay quietly in his arms, talking softly for the rest of evening. Acquiescing
to the fact that he was going to hold me until he tired of it, and that part of
me liked the gentle male attention for a change. I continually surprise myself
in the most shocking ways.
That night when I finally went to my home. I slept truly well for the first
time in at least a year. Dreamlessly, easily. I had with me a packet of papers
to look at, and attempt to memorize. Traci grinning knowingly at me, when Jon
led me to the door to say good night. There was no malice in her face, and the
kind light in her eyes told me that what had occurred was a normal and accepted
thing with them. Extraordinary people. I liked them, a lot more than was good
for me probably. Considering my new position.
I drove home slowly; listening absently to an erotic book on tape I had just
bought that week. Tonight it was not going to be a problem, Tomorrow, well
maybe. By Friday? Torture.
I slid into my big, soft bed, after another quick shower. Sated, abraded and
very satisfied. I fell asleep quickly, and did not dream.
