continues from 20. La Maîtresse
Image – “Falling” by makar013 (Deviant Art)
“I went to the crossroads
Fell down on my knees.”
It was the end. It was the beginning. It was today. It was tomorrow. It was this world and it was the next. It was the crossroads. And it was midnight.
Wait at the crossroads at midnight and when the Devil comes, you can make a deal for your soul and He will make all your dreams and desires come true.
Madame had summoned me to her bedroom to read my erotic diary to her. As I made my way down the corridor I could hear a slow banging or thumping coming from somewhere. One of the windows had probably been left open upstairs. Belos was a small island in a very large sea and even in summer the winds would often pick up at night – the Sea Gods making their presence felt.
I knocked and, hearing no answer, entered. The room was large, high-ceilinged and dark, lit only by candlelight, and it took my eyes a few seconds to adjust. I thought for a second I saw some people on the four-poster bed but I was mistaken, Silvie and Madame were in the bathroom.
The candles flickered at my entrance and mad shadows seemed to dance on the walls. At first I thought I saw figures with their arms raised as if to welcome me then I realized their arms could just as easily be raised in warning.
Silvie came out of the bathroom and whispered to me to go to the end of the bed, kneel with the laptop in front of me, and wait.
The air was thick with strong incense and it made me feel a little light-headed. I listened to the women chatting in French in the bathroom. Something about a journey. Silvie’s voice had an edge to it I hadn’t heard before. Was there something she wasn’t happy about? Were they going away? How soon?
Once again I was forced to contemplate a life without them. My old life. How could I go back to that now? I felt a knot in the pit of my stomach. I realized that this uncertainty was also probably another one of Madame’s tests. I so desperately wanted, needed to pass it, and to be able to continue on this strange and remarkable journey that had started in Paris.
I had a feeling that my future – my future with them – hinged delicately on the events of next hour.
After a few minutes they came out of the bathroom – Madame in a short Japanese robe and Silvie naked. They approached the bed. Neither of them looked at me and such was the cold indifference of their manner that I felt like I had been transported back to the first days of my stay with them in Paris.
Leandros had gone, so I had obviously been relegated to the status of slave once more.
They made themselves comfortable on the bed, Madame disrobed and Silvie lay at her side. Both of them now lay naked before me. I received a sign from Madame to start reading and continued from where I had left off at dinner. They listened to me in complete silence.
From the corner of my eye I could see Madame occasionally caress Silvie’s breasts and nipples. Silvie would return the favor with a kiss to the arm that gifted the caresses.
As I described the whippings and beatings I had received from them I saw Silvie reach down to Madame’s pussy. She stroked her clit and her fingers moved in gentle rotation – her lips meanwhile laying the softest of kisses at Madame’s shoulders. Their lips soon met and then limbs entwined quickly as hands cupped breasts, mouths tasted bliss and nipples stretched and yielded to voracious fingers.
I felt I was watching them merge into one flesh and one desire. A new life being born.
Madame would open her eyes to look at me but she would close them again and smile as I described my humiliation at the party in Paris, or the pain of the nipple clamps, or how a particular whipping had made me cry out and beg for mercy.
When I described my abandonment to the intense pleasure-pain they had inflicted on me, or the euphoria of my orgasms, I saw them embrace ever more passionately, until they began to lose themselves totally in the joy of each other’s flesh.
They were making love to the rhythm of my words. They were losing themselves in a fiery passion that my words were stoking. I too became aroused and I wanted my voice to accompany their moans of pleasure as if adding a line of harmony to their song of love.
I wished only that my words might fall softly like feathers on their beautiful nakedness, caress their lovemaking and stir them to even greater ecstasy.
I was so aroused now that I was barely able to carry on reading. My pulse raced and my body clamored for its own release and I felt the wetness and heat of my own desire calling and my heart raced and I longed to throw aside the laptop and dive onto the bed with them.
But they were oblivious to me now.
At that moment I realized they had willed this. This moment had been preconceived – I was sure of it. They had always wanted this to be. Right from the day on the train when Madame had hypnotized me, they had led me to this. I had been chosen.
Over the last few weeks they had slowly brought this new “me” into being. My old self was dead. I knew it. I was now a slave that had been created by them to suffer and be tormented for their sexual pleasure. And their work was so perfect that I really wanted nothing more than to please them by my own pain and suffering.
Image – Despair, Verzweiflung, 1926, by Rudolf Koppitz
I was theirs now. I was a martyr to their pleasure. My own words would witness my suffering. I was a moon created to reflect the light of their sun.
I was their mirror. And they would design new torments for me so that, even after each torment had finished, I would be made to reveal it for them again and again.
What greater sadistic torture could be invented than to create a slave who not only willingly suffers her torments for the love of her Masters and Mistresses but then has to relive that pain over and over so that they derive even greater pleasure from it?
And so perfect was their creation that I felt only a glorious euphoria at the idea of it.
I could feel myself desperately wanting to come for them. I was barely able to understand my own words now as I saw both of them being consumed in a pyre of their own sensual abandon. Their bodies hungered for each other as if a million years had separated them and only in this moment had they finally been reunited.
I was crying now.
I was overwhelmed. Both tormented and aroused beyond reason or command.
I dropped the laptop and fell at their feet…
The mirror shattered and a halo of diamonds formed and span above the bed. Amorphous shapes gathered around me and beckoned to me. A dark shadow coalesced and loomed and seemed to defy the light emanating from the beautiful dancing naked forms whose magic so entranced me but I was scared of the darkness and I couldn’t breathe from the fierce storm brewing between my legs and I felt tentacles of hot wet blackness consume me everywhere in my pussy and in my breasts and in my gut and in my ass and in my heart and sparks of lightning flared up through my spine and I wanted to submit and give my life for them but they kept teasing me and torturing me on and on and on and alone in eternal torment and darkness and void I struggled and fought and screamed and begged for their light never-ending…
Continues 22. The Cross (II)