The Crystal Sea
Subspace is infinite.
The redemptive bliss that comes with the acceptance of powerlessness.
(Not one sub story but many)
Image – Igor Amelkovich
“The crystal ship is being filled
A thousand girls, a thousand thrills“
Jim Morrison / The Doors – “The Crystal Ship”
Posts can be read individually or in order.
The Ocean – (A kind of Prologue)
Getting my nipples pierced, my so called “lesbian tendencies” and finding the ocean.
I look back on that time now as a kind lost Eden. I was free. No school. No responsibilities. I could do anything I wanted. It also felt like a time of rebirth. Coming out of my shell. Learning to be me. Becoming. Growing up. All that stuff.
A young girl is walking a long path through a dense forest.
At the end of the path stands a gate.
One she passes through that gate she can never return to the life she once had.
This story is about that girl.
And the importance of fulfilling your fantasies.
“Your classification is ‘O’. That stands for ‘object’ and also ‘zero’. It means you are nothing. Without will and without voice. You must remain silent at all times and keep your eyes down. On no account will you speak or make any kind of utterance. When given a direct order you nod once to show you have understood. “O” is the lowest of all the classifications here.”
I am a precious doll. A toy to be played with, abused even, but never damaged. I am an object of value to them. A virgin canvas. To their minds a work of art. A living sculpture. A promise of raptures still unrealized.
Subspace. It’s full of stars.
Could you pass the objectification test?
They’ll probably want to touch you. Slap you. Whatever. They have the right to do that and if they do you must remain passive no matter what.
I’m the new attraction. One of the interactive exhibits. They’ve put me in a large booth about 7 or 8 feet square. It looks like a department store window. I could be a mannequin displaying dresses except that I’m completely naked and my wrists have been cuffed to a wooden crossbar above my head. I’ve been on display for barely a minute now and already a small group of passers-by have stopped to stare.
I am a thing.
I am classed as “0”.
Zero. An object. An ornament.
An empty vessel.
Cherice laughed and reached forward across the bed pulling my arms in front of me.
“I think she needs to be spanked, boys. Spank her for me, will you?”
“Almost done,” the keeper says. “Won’t be long now. This one’s new. She’s a beauty, you won’t be disappointed, I promise you. The cunt is tight fitting but supple, succulent and very juicy, she’s incredibly responsive and extremely eager to please. ”