My Master's Rainbow (pt.6)

Movement in my peripheral vision draws my attention and the real world comes sharply into focus. My heart stills, and my exhale becomes ragged, it is fear, it is surprise. A cold sweat breaks out across my brow, it is need, it is impending gratification. My eyes widen and my jaw tightens, it is embarrassment, it is resolve, rejection, betrayal, and gratitude. It is anger.

It is twelve figures, faces and bodies shrouded with white satin cloaks, circled around me. Master has given me to an army. That realization brings me crashing through another orgasm, this sweet release, my body convulsing against the ropes. In the center of it, there is a point where an unconscious decision is made, my body must choose to scream or to whisper. That question posed, endorphins releasing in reply, and before the message can fully be received, the sting in my left breast begins. That familiar burning cold, the coin brings to my skin never fails to confuse my flesh. It remains, poised at the curve of my cleavage, the skin there burning and soothing as the coin rocks in time with my racing heart.

It’s like an implosion; every other sensation is not wiped away, but intensified and brought into the center of me. For a moment, the whole world is the skin beneath Master’s coin. The way it overcomes me, is like nothing else, only Master can elicit such overwhelming reactions. Then, that unforgiving heartache when the coin is removed, like my skin has betrayed me.

And swimming up from the back of it all, Mia, her voice carried to my ears over my own sucking, gasping, breath.” I know what I’ve said, Tobin, and the Bishop promised he’d be able to help me.”

“Hmm… and yet he hasn’t. So then is the fault his? Are you calling this ‘man of the cloth’ a liar? Or are you going to take a step of that high horse and admit the problem lies in you?”

As though on a timer, all twelve figures step closer to me, in unison, with no noticeable cue. My heart beats even faster, I feel sweat break out across my forehead and begin to slide down my temple, I do my best to shake my head within the web trying to fling the droplets clear of my eyes. They step again and I find myself trying to judge how many steps until they reach me, five more, maybe.

“I’m not sure how I could have done any better.” She says her voice echoing circles around me.

“Oh, really Mia?”

“I went to the right meetings, I dressed nicely, I smiled. No one came to me.”

“You smiled? And no one came to you?” In the restaurant, I had been struggled to keep the laughter out of my voice, in the cellar, listening, I realize I had done a very poor job of it, it’s ok, poor Mia, it was about to get so much worse, “ Imagine that, Mia, no one came to you .” The laughter in my voice fading now, leading into that cold edge again, then, and now, I am loving it.

Puffing up again, indignant, Mia says,” What is going on with you, today, Tobin? You’re being extremely disrespectful.”

“C’mon, Mia, disrespect? Really? If either of us is in the position need to remember their place here, it is not me. Need I remind you what the stakes are? Your son, darling,” I smile inside thinking of the way Master uses this word, “or mine? You need to be careful, Mia, really fucking careful. I called you here to remind you that your time is almost up; just six months now, think you can manage it? Don’t think I won’t take him back. I’m not that little girl anymore, Mia and you know it. ‘Nobody came to you’. What the fuck is that? No fucking wonder you haven’t gotten laid in four years!” Cursing freely now, my mother’s ‘sailor words’ given shore-leave in my sister’s ear, my voice still quite low, but vicious and clipped, this is a private show, for me, for her, for Master.

Master’s shrouded circle has stepped twice more, always in unison, always without cue, or warning. One step left and they’ll have me, my mind frantic, trying at once to imagine what will happen when they reach me, and trying to block the images out. And still over all of it, two things, tear through my mind, excitement and anger. I am caught between my cunts aching need to be used, and my heart’s feeling of betrayal at having to share my precious time with Master.

I stare at the screen, trying to center my mind on anything besides that next bittersweet step. Mia’s face, that look of pure bewildered confusion, manages to hold my attention keeping my imagination at bay. Not for the first time, that look amazes me. They all have it, my whole family, and their strange congregation. It is a look of fear and naiveté, of absolute disbelief at the possibility of any idea not presented to them by their precious gospel. God’s plan in action, if that plan were to build walls and post sentry against the unclean, it breaks my heart to see. It’s like the rape of minds, the violation of independent thought.

“I’ll come for Gray in the afternoon Mia,” The plan falling from my lips even as I place it in my mind, “you’ll be going out. I’ll send a car for you. Believe it or not, we both want the same thing. I love my son and want to see him thrive; I know Lance and I can provide for him, perhaps, better than you, now. But I also recognize the need for consistency in his life. Get in the car, Mia. We are both bound by this contract, yes, but that does not mean I can’t help you. The driver will take you to see a dear friend of mine; she will teach you a few things about how to own yourself, sell yourself, to become woman enough to own a man. You have to trust me, Mia. You don’t have a choice.”

I loved watching her face twist with the mixing emotions, gratitude at my apparent change of heart, fear at the suggestion of this woman friend, pain at the idea of change, anger for the experience on the whole. The opportunity to see it again, big as day in front of me, is not lost, but savored, grasped as desperately as a life preserver in the arms of a drowning man.

The time lost in my sister’s eyes ends all too quickly. One last shrouded step and they’re on me in a rustle of satin, a flash of hands, arms, and bare bodies, as all twelve toss their cloaks off of their shoulders, revealing their bodies, but leaving their faces lost to me. Master’s army seems equally divided; it does not appear that there is more of either sex.

They begin to touch me, some stroking gently, some using the edges of their fingernails to draw angry red lines against my soft white flesh, still more pinching, or grabbing and pulling, no part of my body is left unattended. Just like The Shoes, this satin-soaked army moves silently, with a grace like I’ve never seen, my mind just has time to frame a question as to how he finds these people, and the world begins to spin. Literally.

The silence of this tool leaves no room for warning. Excitement and frustration surge through my body, carrying with them an orgasm so strong its final waves leave black spots before my eyes. When it leaves me, I am once again horizontal, this time facing the ceiling. My ears again pick up the familiar tone of my own voice, and for a moment I am confused, ‘We already heard this part…’ I think as I hear me say “ ‘Nobody came to you’. What the fuck is that? No fucking wonder you haven’t gotten laid in four years!”

Over and over, my ears are filled with my own voice taunting my sister, calling her out, practically laughing in her face. The relief of having done that, after having been subject to her condescension my whole life, at first was a glorious moment. The replay in my mind and on the screen a reminiscent triumph, even the initial few sound byte plays were a thrilling experience when mixed this way. But now, with this fever pitched replay and four of his naked, faceless, soldiers crawling toward me, the web shaking with their weight, my desperately confused mind circles around one thought:’ There’s a reason I have never spoken that way to her!’

Her condescension is valid; her position in every way she knows to read it is above mine. She is superior, morally, professionally, educationally; even her genes are stronger than mine. I know that having been in a restaurant, a public place, I was safe for the moment, and that even barring that, Mia’s nature would never have allowed her to raise her voice to me, but later there will be another price to pay. Another voice will soon be heard, and in this family, we are to follow two gospels, that ever present, almost universal, book of God, and in truest hypocritical blasphemy, the words of my mother.

As I am taken by a surge of fear at the thought of her, her opinion, her decision on the matter, Master’s four have taken their positions. A man lies above my head, his legs spread wide to accommodate the woman who places a ball gag in my mouth and cinches it tightly before straddling my face to grind her pussy against it and my lips and leaning forward to fellate him. At the same time I feel someone else sitting at the base of my ribcage, another man, his hands at my breasts, using them against his cock Someone else, sex unknown, is using a toy, a dildo with a clit tickler aggressively on my swollen pussy, the buzz driving a bolt of that deep, white heat into my flesh with each thrust. I feel the web rock with their wild, random, movements, each sway and tumble reminiscent of the waves at the heart of a storm driven sea.

One of Master’s soldiers has grown bold, showing off his strength and prowess by climbing the web from beneath me. I feel his arms come up between the ropes at my elbows locking his with mine. He pulls himself up by the same line that runs across my collarbone, it draws tight against my chest as it takes his weight while he slides his legs through the ropes at my thighs wrapping them around me and hooking his feet just inside my knees. His cock head brushes the puckered rim of my anis; I barely have time to take note of how slick and hard he is before I realize that it’s vibrating. Somehow, despite all the motion above me he is able to hold on, to keep control, to move slowly, carefully working his vibrating phallus with long, deliberate strokes. As the woman on my face comes, he enters me the translated movement of the bullet vibe in his cock ring helping to coax my asshole into opening. The rolling, surging, motion of my web moves our bodies for him; his deep growls and hot, puffing breath in my ear announces his enjoyment.

I am surrounded by a world of sex, all over and around me people are using my body and each others’ in a writhing bed of pleasure. I feel the hands on my breasts tighten and their owner’s pace quicken, at the same time the soldier grinding against my ball gag begins to roll her hips and clench her thighs, her juices running across my tongue. I can also feel the man in her mouth pumping his hips harder into her.

Everywhere in the room the breathing has changed, and the motion of the web has grown more frantic. I marvel again that the soldier below me can maintain his hold on me, keep me so beautifully impaled within it all, forcing my own orgasm to announce itself in shudders and gulps. Somehow in the midst of it all my voice has stopped, and I realize Master must have given orders regarding their voices because no one is calling out, and there are no moans, just this ragged puffing blanket of desperate breaths, a symphony of orgasmic air.

~x~

Dressing again in that familiar, sickly yellow glow, reflecting, as always, on the things Master has shown me. Like an experiment on my soul, each session with him is meant to teach me something, too help me fix the broken pieces. By removing himself from the greater part of our session, he has left the stain of today’s color in my mind. His truest passion is the world of human emotions. A smile plays across my lips and I whisper to myself,”His passion controls him, and I benefit.”

On the cab ride home my mind turns to Mia, and to Gray, I breathe deep, resolve stirring, creating, there is work to be done. One more nearly breathless whisper earns me a glance from the rear view mirror, “Thank you Master.”