Chapter One: The Beginning
*Author's Note: This story will contain strong language, violence, sexual content and sexual content that is often thought of as taboo that might not be suitable for some readers. If you have a problem with reading about a variety of sex, violence, or foul language this story is not for you.
On that note, some of the sexual experiences the character goes through are real issues for people everywhere and will not be taken kindly if it is mocked. It is a serious mental ailment that often is overlooked and caused from sexual abuse from partners/ family or trauma in their lives surrounding trust and sex. This type of PTSD should be talked about with your partner, trusted friend, or sex therapist if too uncomfortable to talk about with your significant other.*
The chains hang from the ceiling, swinging in the slight breeze. They softly clink, the sound echoing the silent room. Light flickers from the candles illuminating shadows to large proportions. Toys of various purposes lay askew around the room and floor. He sleeps silently on the king bed, tuckered from the game we played. His wrists are indented with a red thick circle which stands out slightly from his tan skin. Little stands of blonde hair stick to his peaceful sleeping face. Welting lines line his back with the tips disappearing under the red satin sheets. This game is something willing subjects come to me for whether it is for pleasure or an emotional release. To see someone break down as they do, throwing all shame to the wind, it truly beautiful. Surrendering to the sensations is entrusting the dominator their trust not to breach the trust they hold. Sex does not have to be involved for this process; the sensations can create their own earth-shaking orgasms.
I sigh, cleaning up the "game room" with sanitation wipes. Although this can be rewarding for the dominate to see the submissive shiver in pleasure, I do not find it so. I have grown into this role from experience when I too crave for this sensual, emotional release. My latest client Gabriel, is my most frequent visitor. He is an emotional as well as pleasure releaser. A lot of his stimulation is the hit of a whip snapping at his skin and taunts to goad him which is often resulted from an abusive home or social life. Judging by his clothing and quick willingness to submit leans me to believe his home life is a structured strict one with no freedom of his own choosing. Everything is likely decided for him. At least, this is just from speculation.
I blow out the remaining candle on the wooden night stand, encasing the room into darkness. I glide across the floor to the door on the other side of the room, closing the door behind me. Right outside of the room is a shot glass filled with vodka and a stack of this week's pay in cash. Antonio evidentially runs the business and I am the most requested out of his stacks of dominates. Antonio is a good guy, a little bit of a flirt but a true business man at heart. He has a master's degree in business but after the boredom of regular cooperate life, he decided to open a "health clinic". By day that is. At night, secret word gets around to the ears of the suffering of our nightly clinical sanctuary.
I shove the money into my half way on trench coat, swinging the shot down. It burns as it runs down my throat, calming any shaken nerves. I tie my long auburn hair back into a loose pony tail. My footsteps echo through the small hallway of stairs leading to the main waiting room. I hear a small tapping of someone typing, but otherwise it appears as though we are currently done for the night. Antonio sits on a velvet blue loveseat, his laptop screen illuminating his features. His nose is slightly bent out of shape; his jaw strong and square. Although the light makes his eyes appear demonic, they are actually a hazel color that turns to molten gold when he is aroused or happy. Antonio looks up from his screen, flashing a knowing smile. His bronzed hand jesters to the seat next to him which I accept.
There is some silence for some time while he crunches numbers or whatever he does.
"Do you ever tire of this?" I ask in the silence, looking up at the ceiling. It reminds me of a church where it just continues up until you cannot see it anymore. He continues to type, but answers nonetheless.
"Why do you ask? Are you getting cold feet?" I roll my forest green eyes, taking my gaze away from the ceiling to look at him. His typing continues but now he is staring at my face. There is a heated stare in his eyes and I cannot bring myself to look away. Antonio's eyes change ever so slightly to a lighter shade of brown. His pupil dilates ever so slightly but his face remains composed.
"I could spice it up for you if you would like." My breath catches in my throat. The air is filled with static and only the sound of my heartbeat can be heard. His free masculine hand reaches over the small gap, brushing the calloused fingers against my rounded baby face. I lean into the tender touch and close my eyes. They brush up and down my right cheek, grazing my chin and lips as his fingers move to the other side.
"All you have to say is yes sweetheart and I can give you what you need." His voice sounds closer now; I can feel his body heat radiating. His breath is on the nape of my neck, his fingers tilting my head slightly away.
"What you crave." My body shivers as his tongue lightly traces the curve of my long neck. Butterfly kisses trail around my jaw, onto each cheek, and just hover over my plump lips. My lips part almost instinctively at the caress of his breath.
"Will you let me come in?" Antonio's words are hoarse with raging lust. I lick my lips unconsciously and I hear him growl ever so slightly.
"I need your permission Lillian. You know the rules."
"I…" I can feel his other hand grazing the exposed skin the coat does not cover. My mouth goes dry and words cannot form. I open my eyes to see a luminescence set staring back at me. They are a full golden shade of gold and the pupils completely dilated. Lust is clearly read on Antonio's face. All I can do is nod and that is enough. Antonio dives for my mouth, a full on growl passing his lips as they crash into mine. My head hits the end of the couch, but the pain is dulled by his strength. He pins my arms in a swift motion above my head with one arm. The other yanks off the only article of clothing on my body. The night air in the building is cool against my heated skin. I shiver against the bit of cold, but this only turns him on further. He pushes a large bulge against my leg, thrusting it up to rub against my mound.
"Now my dear little girl, you have been bad making me wait this whole time to fuck you." He whispers in my ear. His power surges over me in waves and I allow them to caress me. Antonio shifts his weight around to undo his pants. Once he does, my eyes widen in surprise. His member is thick and pulsing with such intensity it turns me on.
"Ever since the day you walked through those doors." He growls out, biting along the exposed flesh of my neck. "In that cute little outfit. So innocent."
I feel a sharp sting of something interlocking my wrists together. There is a sound of a little metal as I realize they are cuffed together. His tongue glides down my collar bone towards my slightly under size chest. The mounds swell in anticipation as his breath glides across the skin. There is some nips of pain, and yet I moan out.
"It took all of my power not to fuck you right there. With all those people watching me defile that beautiful little body of yours." Antonio's breath descends lower; his hands, now free, tracing down the curves of my body. "You would have liked that wouldn't you?" My body shivers in pleasure; I can feel myself getting wetter. And there it was. I moan, arching into his face. His tongue darts out again and again in short little licks.
"God you taste good." He grounds out between his own moan.
"Antonio," I breathe, looking down at him. His face slightly hidden in between my legs, but his piercing gaze centers all focus on me.
"Beg for it. Beg me to do it." he orders.
"Antonio," I moan, squirming to get some of his attention back to my sensitive area.
"Beg Lillian."
"I…" I shiver a little, fear slowly rising from the pit of my stomach. I bite it back the best I can.
"Please." I whisper, trying to hide my fear. My eyes close and I lean my head back.
"Please what Lillian? You must be more specific."
"Please fuck me Antonio." I hear him moan and then there is a pressure on my opening. His body heat consumes me as he hovers over mine. His hands intertwine with my bound ones. With one hard thrust, he rams right into me. There is a slight tinge of pain and discomfort, but nothing unbearable.
"Christ you are so tight," he moans as his thrusts get faster and harder. "Too bad I have to defile this little body of yours with my cock." I cannot help but to moan as he hits my sweet spot. The thrusts get harder and rougher. The speed picks up until we are both panting and moaning in sync with our bodies. I open my eyes looking at Antonio's blissful face contort into one of pleasure as he reaches his climax. Something about it, I cannot put my finger on it, scares me. As he reaches his climax, allowing it to spill into me, the fear builds back up. I cannot hide it this time as the tears begin to roll down the sides of my face.
"Baby…" Antonio coo's as soon as he notices my face. He quickly unfastens the cuffs and the moment they are free, I cover my face in shame. I cannot stop the sobs from coming. They belt out into the empty room full of sorrow and anguish.
"Lily it is okay love. Please…Shhh…Calm down you are here with me." I can hear his words through the sobs, but they do nothing to comfort me. My body is lifted up by his strong arms, our clothes long forgotten on the sofa. We head up some stairs, I do not know where. Everything I see is encased in darkness and something nagging me within the recesses of my mind. Everything goes black for a few seconds.
"Lilli…Li…L…" I can hear his voice calling to me, but I do not want to go toward it. They will hurt. They will degrade. Shun down anything you do. It is not worth it.
"Lily dear." A soft voice whispers in the black space. "You are worth it child." I break down in the darkness, falling to my hands and knees. A comforting hand strokes my hair in a rhythmic tempo.
"Please listen to me dear." The voice whispers as the sobs subside. "There is a place you can go. Away from this life. A way to start fresh if you will." I glance up and my eyes widen in shock. A woman endowed in a beautiful flowing blue garment is sitting in front of me. Her emerald gem eyes sparkle as they look at me. They are filled with hope. Hope that I may or may not have. Her hair is braided back into one large shimmering green braid.
"W…who are you?" I whisper in utter shock. The woman giggles, removing her hand from my head. Her skin appears to be glowing in my darkness.
"I am the Harvest Goddess my dear little Lillian. I have a proposition for you." I maneuver so I am sitting on my behind giving her my undivided attention.
"There is an island, Waffle Island, in which I reside that is currently dying. The people of the land have forgotten about my existence and in turn, they have forgotten about me. Currently there is a position as a farmer on the land. You may come to live on my island away from your current life now. In exchange, I wish for you to revitalize my island to its full glory once more." Her figure begins to flicker and fade. I begin to panic, reaching for the Goddess. My hand slips right through her translucent form.
"I will be waiting for your answer Lillian." The Goddess fades completely and once more I am alone in the darkness.
My eyes slowly open into a small bedroom in what looks like to be an apartment. The walls are a bore-ish looking eggshell white and the floor is a less than flattering shag beige carpet. There is one chipping window next to the run down end table sitting next to the bed. A small note lays on it with my name escribed in cursive. I hesitantly reach over and open it.
To my dearest Lillian,
You passed out as I was carrying you up the stairs. It appears as though something within your mind went wrong to make you cry. Were you not enjoying our love-making? If we were in my full room it would have been much more pleasurable for you. Clothes are on the dresser should you chose (or wake up) to leave. Your pay is next to it as well. I will be working until late tonight so please be home in time to greet me. We can try again tonight.
Your dearest,
Antonio
I shiver at the letter, reading it again and again. Clearly Antonio thought that since we had sex it means we are together or at least sex partners. Whichever the delusion reads into, I do not wish to be around for it. I jump out of bed, glancing through the window to see it to be about mid-day. The clothes he left for me were skimpy; a tank top dipping below my cleavage line and some denim short shorts. Fuck that. I dig through his drawers until I find a baggy greyish blue tee shirt and some baggy denim jeans. I swipe the money, noticing that most of it was here but a few twenties were missing. It did not matter at this point, it was enough to do what I needed to do.
Through another creaking door I found a bathroom and more importantly some scissors. I lay the trash can by my feet as I begin to snip away at my long auburn hair. It falls into straight strips onto the ground, some landing in the waste bucket. With every snip I felt the weight lifting off of my shoulders. With every strand falling in the reflection of the mirror, I could feel myself changing. Like a caterpillar going through metamorphous into a butterfly. With one final ruffle with my hands and twenty minutes later, a boyish hairstyle sits where my hair use to be. It is cut into different layers and strands, making it look almost like I just woke up and left with bedhead. Some hair I had cut into a small bang running from the left point of my head to the tip of my right eyebrow. I continue the transformation, taking off make-up, my hoop earrings, and banishing my girlish clothes to the waste bin. I tie the bag up and dispose of it on my way out in a passing dumpster. Along the way I have acquired a baby blue knapsack to hold belongings that I will have to purchase such as pads (for those periods) chest wrappings, feminine things (like hairbrushes and what not).
The trip to the stores are very simple and only the necessity is purchased. Of course this opts to a variety of looks, none of which matter. I hail a taxi shortly after leaving the music store and direct the rude sweaty balding man to the docks. Occasionally he mutters a curse under his breath, constantly pulling cigarettes to smoke. I try not to cringe as the drive weaves through the traffic of Pennsylvania. As the docks come into view, I can feel my heart racing within my chest. This was the opportunity to start again, to create my own identity that did not revolve around sex. And what about this Goddess lady? Would there really be a place for a city girl to live in a community of sanctuary and farming?
I did not have much time to think any further because the driver screeches to a halt, his hand extended for his money. I pay him the overly priced ride and he speeds off as soon as my bag and part of myself is out of the taxi. A large ferry rests in the docking port, overshadowing the little ticket collection booth below. Upon closer inspection, it appears as though no one is manning the little booth and under that assumption, I take my ticket straight up onto the ferry.
"Ahoy there laddy! Will ye' be boarding this ferry to Waffle Island?" A booming voice comes out of nowhere, causing a yelp out of my lips. Dressed in captain's garb, an elderly gentleman comes from around the bend. He appears roughly seventy years old but the kindness in his eyes to at least say he knows what he is doing.
I meekly nod my head, giving him the piece of paper with a ferry printed on it. He examines it briefly, stuffing it into his pocket after a nod of approval.
"Okay lad! Let us be off! Pascal be the name and sailing is the game!" Pascal waits patiently for a few beats for an introduction of some sort which I keep silent, sticking my hand out with a big smile. 'Ah shit I forgot my male persona name!'
"Do not talk much lad I take it? No big deal! I am sure I will hear it on the seas at some point!" Pascal shakes with a firm grip nearly dislocating my arm from the socket.
"Alright! Let us begin departure for Waffle Island!" He gives a signal to someone in the top tower of the ferry and a loud, ear-piercing horn rings through the afternoon air. The ship begins to drive in reverse out of the port slowly and into the ocean water.
This might be a bad time to discover if I have sea-sickness or not.