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Nightmares are also dreams Part 18-Pel
Our friend leads Sara out of the bathroom. His movements are mechanical. Just one more piece in machinery. A cog spinning and giving the result desired.
A fundamental difference in experience and approach. I tend more to the psychological. Into the knowing and intuitive leaps that drive experience forward. The shift from warm and loving to harsh. To complete control. And back to sweet kisses. Back to silly gestures and a kiss to the palm.
Watching him cuff Sara back down and settle her without a caress or lingering touch. Something I’ve never been capable of. Control can be taken too far. Can stifle the spontaneous action that makes one’s heart sing.
He packs up his gear and heads out with a nod. Silence and sensory deprivation are the order of the day.
I hear a murmured conversation at the door and go to look…
Tara is back and she’s covered in grime and blood.
I rush over and take her in my arms.
I ask, “What happened?”
She replies, her voice strong with the soft edge of fatigue, “We found them. Jen is torturing them…
I was torturing them…I thought I needed to. To make me feel safe. To make it better.”
She pulls back, searching my eyes for the loathing she thinks she deserves.
I say, “It never feels the way you think it will. Mostly, when they are dead…All you will feel is safe.”
Smiling lopsidedly, I say, “You had a long day. Do you want to rest?”
She nods.
“Do you want to stay with me or do you want Mr Fox?”
Softly, she whispers, “Both.”
I smile and say, “Well, I am playing with Sara right now but if you can sit very quietly you can watch. Do you think you can sit quietly?”
“If I have Mr Fox, I can,” she smiles.
“Okay. Go cleanup. Then get Mr Fox and come sit in your chair. Remember. Be very quiet,” I command.
Tara walks away, shedding her heels and padding softly into the guest bathroom.
I suppose it’s a good thing we got through the electricity element already. I shudder to think what would have happened if she walked in. As it is, I’ll need to switch a bit and go more sensual. Maybe build up to the harsher things.
Well, whichever. Sara is still getting caned today. That is the midway point and she squirms so much when I do it.
I wonder if Tara will want to try.
Torn Asunder 2.3
Torn Asunder 2.2
Torn Asunder 2.1
Torn Asunder 1.3
Torn Asunder 1.2
Torn Asunder 1.1
Nightmares are also dreams Part 17-Sara
The quiet sets in. Long seconds with only my heartbeat and the rush of blood through my ears to accompany the waiting…the anticipation…but first I tap out a yellow on the wall. Yellow for distress, yellow for, not stop but help.
The gag is unknotted and the soft warm cotton falls away.
Pel…Something in me whimpers with relief, its Pel.
Pel whispers, “Whatever could be wrong, my darkest night?”
Tension eases and the fear of moments…minutes?…before subsides.
“Bathroom please,” I whisper.
With a disappointed sigh Pel unlocks my restraints and stands me up. He does this economically with a minimum amount of touch and briefly I have this flash of what did I do wrong before I’m being marched to the bathroom. The blindfold stays on as he guides me to the toilet and sets me down.
The door closes and I’m alone but I dare not take off the blindfold. Instead I go pee and reach out by memory to get clean. Nothing has been moved thankfully and I am able to wash up without difficulty.
With the water running, I hear voices in the bedroom and I go still. Who is Pel talking to…I strain to hear but the muffled sounds through the door and the rushing water make that too indistinct.
When I shut off the water and knock on the door ready to go back, the voices have stopped. Maybe I was hearing things.
Again the hands that lead me to the bed and place the restraints back on are businesslike and without hesitation. Like I’m just meat. And that more than anything spikes my fear. Pel is constitutionally incapable of not kissing me when he touches me. At least on the palm of my hand or o to my neck, but never like this. Like I don’t matter…
