I breathe in deeply to feel the cut of your collar on my neck. It
is tight so that it will stop my breathing if I get too excited. It
reminds me of my purpose, to serve you and to take what ever you give me.
Is it now, writing this communication of myself for you so that you may
more fully understand my existence as your slave. This is for you, Sir.
Inside, thoughts move, they search for some kind of form, one that
will evolve into something that will challenge us. It is there, just out
of reach and as we close our eyes it solidifies. What is the meaning?. What
is the flavor?, we can almost taste it. Will we be taken to a place
outside ourselves? Will it be a moment with our exterior perceptions or
will it be within.
It is within. I can feel two, one that is Quiet and waits for
actions, and the other which is the one that creates and watches for
reactions. I breathe in deeply and can feel the collar against my throat.
I think of you, who is capable of creating a place that can hold the Quiet
one in tight, listening and waiting for pain. We both surge with the
thought of you but Action turns to Quiet and hushes her, "don't think, I
want you to react". Action pulls on her collar and waits for the form to
evolve further. "Quiet, do you know what it is we are doing here?" Action
peers at Quiet.. "we are expanding what it is that we define as ourselves",
Action trembles, she knows that it is the challenge that she may not be
able to control. Action must be in control else they are lost and with no
form. Quiet sits quietly, feeling her collar and seeing him in her eyes,
the other that knows her well and who does not hesitate like Action. "Do
you blame me Quiet? We have been one for so long that I may not be able to
actualize the form as I see it. That is a danger. Do you see that?.. Stop
thinking of yourself only. Stop thinking."
Quiet clears and becomes pure sensation, she is herself but only
at the outer edge, the nerves, the one that will feel and react to the
form. Action looks inside again and then sees a line, one that is black
and then shivers into red. It is hot and it is straight. Action sees that
it moves at one edge, it grows then she sees what draws this line, a
knife. Action closes her eyes and grips the handle of that knife and lowly
runs it across Quiet's skin. The line flares hot and brighter red. Within
the line Action can see a yellow intensity. Quiet opens her eyes and sees
Action pull the knife across her leg. The pain pulls into Quiet deeply.
She feels her internal organs ripple and she senses a peak, a place that
comes with the first cut. Quiet grips her breast and gasps, as his collar
tightens. Not breathing, Quiet soon calms and opens her eyes and watches
the blood slip from the cut, so soft. The liquid is Quiet as she stares
and relishes in the relief that washes over her, as she begins to numb
back into silence, waiting to react. Action watches this and glories in
the reaction, the first pain is always so intense. There is a strong urge
to stop and hold the thought pattern of that first pain for as long as
possible, "Quiet will wait as long as I tell her too". Action sighs and
feels the edge of the wound and feels a new pain, a catalyst to move onto
the next form. Action closes her eyes and looks again. "What is it that we
have within us that lies like a rock, pushing us into a form that is not
intentional on our part?" Action wants to remove that pull, she wants to
free that part of herself which is held by others. She thinks of Sir and a
form appears. A roundness and it glows white and then blue. It resonates
deep within them both, Action is not separate from Quiet at that place.
Action turns to Quiet "Touch our clitoris, now, begin softly". Quiet
reacts and touches their clitoris lightly and then pushes down on the
edges, feeling the muscles surrounding the opening, they quiver and Quiet
shivers. Action sees the roundness quiver and grow. "Ah, Sir this is the
place that you hold, a place that we allow you to hold. But so many other
things hold it as well. Does it thrive on these others?. Does the holding
by so many make it grow?. Or is it compromised?. Is it diminished.?"
Action sees that, in this moment as Quiet begins to rhythmically stroke
their clitoris, the roundness does not grow but rather it begins to move.
That it is the motion that is what is of the essence and not the growth.
"The bondage is on the growth but the rhythm is ours"
Action realizes that they are alone and that these bonds are
contained within. "It is the bonds that I must release. But how?" Action
rakes her fingernails across their stomach to clear her mind, Quiet
strokes faster. Action sees that the form vibrates faster, the rhythm
increases. Action grips her inner thigh and pulls the muscles, sensing her
body tremble, Quiet moans as the vibration of the form increases. "It is
ours to control and the form will become us as well" Action pulls on his
collar and stops breathing, pure silence within, Quiet groans and reaches
inside, feeling the rhythm inside them, pulsating and strong, pushing.
Action picks up the knife again and stares at its cold face, seeking the
reflection of the form within its meaning.
The knife comes down on the inner thigh and cuts the earlier form,
soft liquid, Quiet merges with the line and the roundness begins a
secondary resonance. Quiet arches her back and in exquisite selfishness
begs Action for his presence, his pressure on top of them and within.
Quiet can barely understand the totality and purity of this feeling that
Action is forcing on her, Quiet is so weak and begins to grope for a
premature union with Action. Action senses the forms retreating and cuts
again to sharpen Quiet's reaction, to pull her back into the place that
they have created now. Liquid and the organic frailty scare Quiet into a
tense waiting. "Quiet you must continue the rhythm, there lies the
completion of this moment." Action touches the cuts and runs slick fingers
through the liquid and then Quiet runs those slick fingers within their
organic reality to maintain the rhythm. Suddenly Action can see that the
rhythm has transcended the form and has become them, the rhythm pulses
through Action as well as Quiet. They arch their back and whiteness shoots
from the form and into Quiets exterior. She numbs to a pure clarity and
Action losses herself in Quiet's reaction.
A gasp initiates the next reality and then a clear breath as they
regain their presence. Action begins to slide back out into Quiet and the
meshing begins. Action loosens her will over Quiet and looses the vision
of the form. A sigh and they open their eyes, together. Shaking I caress
your collar and see your face. Open, clean and pure I unsnap your collar
from my neck and breathe deeply.
--
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