Whipped

I caved in finally and fell into a deep and much needed sleep; visited by many forms and figures but I think even my subconscious was too exhausted to build up a proper storyline for a full-blown nightmare.

 

…

 

I woke up to a dimly lit room and wanted to sit up because I felt uneasy but found that I could not move. It was as if I had been paralyzed.

I heard my own breathing so loudly but that was when I realized the figure. A dark shadow was circling the bed, and the fear that struck me with made me halt my breath.

My own body restricted me. No ropes or chains needed… Not even strip-ties.

I tried to scream for help but nothing happened.

The dark figure continued the ominous circles… around me… the mere presence torturing me.

My chest cramped as my heart was beating fast, too fast!

I slowly began to notice that the circles were too consistent to be natural and it dawned on me what this was… another sleep paralysis.

The figure was nothing but a hallucination…

With this knowledge I tried to calm myself. I forced myself to breathe slowly and suddenly it was over…

I sat up with a loud gasp and shook my head and rubbed my arms.

It felt great to be able to feel myself… to move.

To have control of myself…

I still felt the chills and knew  I had to get out of the room. I knew full well that it was just a hallucination but it felt all too real…

I grabbed the white nightie on the dresser and slipped it on.

My hands were shaking so terribly and I heard the door handle rattle as I opened the door… it was that bad.

I bit my lip hard, I knew what I wanted… I wanted something that could make my nerves calm… I wanted a knife.

In the darkened hallway I saw the door to her bedroom. I didn’t even know what time it was… but I remembered her warnings.

I knocked the door softly; something deep within me hoped she was sleeping too soundly to hear me.

“Yes?“ she opened the door a long minute later.

My teeth sank deeper into my dry lip.

Her dark hair was undone and hang unkempt over her shoulders and her body was only covered by a see-through black robe.

I couldn’t mutter a single syllable. To be fair I had no idea why I knocked her door in the first place.

“Mira, what is it?” her voice was slightly raspy from sleeping.

“Mira?” she tilted her head and turned soft.

A teardrop was trailing down my cheek.

She carefully closed the door behind her just as I caught a glimpse of Kate fast asleep.

“Come” she took my hand and when she felt how it was trembling she took a firmer grip and she took me to her special room; turning on the light and pushing me through the door before she locked it behind us.

“Did you have a nightmare?” she talked more freely now, not having to lower her voice.

I tried to reply but my lips were now trembling worse than my hands.

“Look at me” she held my chin in her pale hand with a crushing grip.

“Tell me what you need” her blue eyes bore themselves into mine.

Finally I managed to utter a broken sentence.

“Don’t… know…” I wailed. My throat was closing on me.

“Pain or pleasure?” I recognized her face… the Dominatrix was back.

“I don’t… deserve… pleasure” I heaved for air.

“Oh Mira, you do deserve pleasure” I felt her scrutinizing eyes trail down my body before they returned to my eyes.

“- But pain it is then” her finger on the hand that still held my face in an iron grip caressed my jawbone and I found myself leaning into them.

“First of all, I want to thank you for coming to me” There was a serenity in her voice.

 I had been a good girl!

“Hurting yourself is not safe…” her hand moved to my neck but still held on tight to me; not giving me any doubt as to who was in control.

“You stopped shaking” she whispered as she let go of me.

“Step out of the nightie” She instructed and in a heartbeat I slid the silk over my shoulders.

“I’ll need to have full control of you” she winked at me and walked over to the collection of ropes. There she picked out a bundle and a hook; weighing it all in her hands and looked me over seemingly measuring me.

Minutes ago she had been asleep… and here she was; professionally preparing for another undoing of me.