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Message-ID: <40683asstr$1044411004@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Toran <toran29@insightbb.com>
User-Agent: NewsPro/3.3.5
NNTP-Posting-Date: Sat, 01 Feb 2003 19:51:40 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Story: Shadow Mists (2 of 2)  (BDSM, M/f)
Date: Tue,  4 Feb 2003 21:10:04 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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The following is a work of erotic fiction and is the sole property of the 
author.  It contains elements of bondage, discipline, sadism and masochism..

All comments welcome.

Part 2 of 2

SHADOW MISTS
by Toran


MISTS

She was tired and getting confused.  The world streamed past her in a blur - 
the city around her became a series of late-night scenes, each illuminated by 
the surreal orange glow of the sodium street lights.  Downtown St. Louis didn't 
sleep until the dawn was just starting to redden the sky.  Midtown was another 
story.  Stark poverty that was born and raised in the old turn-of-the-century 
buildings of Delmar Boulevard grew legs in the tattered remnants who poked 
through the garbage bins behind the McDonalds and White Castles.  What was a 
trendy, hip part of town in the '70s had deteriorated into a desolate string of 
struggling businesses and punk rock stores.

She felt so far from home, fighting the steady pull of jet-lag and the darkly 
exciting unease in her belly.  The collar around her neck became a living thing 
- every movement of the car seemed to draw the leather tighter and she found 
herself absently hooking a finger underneath it to draw it away from the sweaty 
skin of her neck.  Even the rise and fall of her chest caused the leash to 
shift and pull on the collar.

She was on the other side of the threshold now.  She'd walked through without 
hesitation, drawn by something that had reared up inside her, something that 
had always been there, beneath the surface - it was there when she bought the 
collar, it was there when she caught herself sitting at the table for her 
morning tea and paper with arms folded snugly behind her back, it was there in 
the pre-dawn hours when she awoke to find herself spread-eagled under the 
sheets on the bed, arms and legs straining for the corners, invisible ropes 
holding them there, while the mists of her dream still ran icy fingers down her 
breasts, past her belly, to the tingling button between her legs.

She snuck a glance at the driver of the car - very much the driver now in so 
many ways.  She saw him in the soft green glow of the dashboard lights, the 
rhythmic dazzling glare from the street lights that exploded then faded to 
green darkness before exploding again casting a sharp brief shadow across his 
grim face.  Strings of jet black hair obscured his forehead and eyes.  Only the 
set of his jaw and the thin line of his lips - lips that had moments before 
almost caused her to melt completely - were in view.  He worked the gear 
shifter with mean quick thrusts, his gaze never leaving the road.  It struck 
her that he was like the Ancient Mariner, body hunched over the wheel, scanning 
the turbulent sea for the next wave that would crash and break his ship.

He was gunning through the city now, the traffic lights sometimes blinking red, 
sometimes yellow.  Either way, he sailed through the intersections without 
hesitation.  In fact, she felt the car picking up speed as they sped ever 
westward towards the deep underbelly of the city.  She closed her eyes, 
relaxing, hands pulling lightly on the leash.  She had no idea where she would 
be, what would happen when she opened her eyes again, and that thought both 
thrilled and scared her...

The soft light from the hallway casts a gentle shadow on her bedroom wall and 
she's a little girl again, in her mum's house in St. John's Wood, and she's 
falling asleep and wondering where she will wake up.  And as the shadow-muted 
flowered wallpaper by her bed gives way to dreams, she realizes that she can't 
stay here, not in the bed, because they are coming and she knews where they are 
and even though they don't scare her she still wants to hide from them.  So she 
slides out of bed, not noticing that someone still lies under the covers, sound 
asleep and that it is her, not noticing that now her room is different, devoid 
of any comfort or warmth or any of her little girl perceptions - it is just a 
room with a door and that door is the way out and beyond that is the hallway, 
dark and without end.  But if she floats long enough, pushes on, she is putting 
distance between herself and them, the little shadows who stand around her bed 
and watch her sleep -

She moans, a soft sound that is absorbed immediately by the car's growl.  Her 
head rolls to one shoulder, the shoulder propped against the window, and 
through half-lidded eyes she sees the figures pushing shopping carts along the 
sidewalk in the orange glow of the streetlights and those figures are short, 
with spindly arms and long heads and big black eyes that turn to her and regard 
her neither coldly nor warmly and she moans again-

The dark house seems full and she sits at the top of the stairs, eyes scanning 
the darkness below, knowing that they are down there, knowing that they can see 
her now, so exposed but unable to move.  Her back to the hallway, she knows 
that even now, they stand around her bed, watching her sleeping form, while 
others stare at her from the darkness below - part of her will sleep fitfully, 
logging what her other body will experience as just more nightmares-

Her head rolls to the other shoulder and she sees Him, hunched behind the 
wheel, only now he looks less human and more like-

She stands suddenly at the top of the stairs as she sees the eyes staring up at 
her from the darkness below.  It's Him, the Shadowman, and He's calling for 
her, beckoning her down and He's more than all the little shadows combined - 
He's both above and beyond them.  He's her safe haven but the price for His 
protection is her body, her soul, and maybe more.  Folding her hands behind 
her, she takes the first step down-

And the car is gone and He is carrying her, His arms wrapped tightly around 
her, not hurting, not yet, but there is no escape now.  The door has slammed 
shut and the threshold is long gone.  She's over here now, over here again and 
He looks down at her, His eyes both warm and cold, soft and hard, changing on 
the whims of the shadowmists-

He reaches out as she steps off the last stair and into the darkness of His 
world.  He towers over her, she is only a little girl and He is larger than 
life.  His touch is gentle but firm as He deftly leads her through the darkness 
and-

She looks up into the sky and many many shapes are there, not exactly stars.  
They glow, sometimes looking like boxes, sometimes filled triangles and they 
are everywhere.  These start a thread of fear in her belly that curls tightly 
into a ball and threatens to rise to her mouth in a scream so she looks to Him, 
looks for anything that can comfort her and knows that she will give Him 
everything, everything He wants because she has to, she wants to, and He needs 
to-

Talks to her.  He talks to her, the little girl that holds something inside her 
that has yet many years before it is born into this world.  In words she will 
forget as soon as they blanket her mind, He speaks to her and she loses her 
fear of Him, of them, and the warmth she feels is almost a love-

The warm night air rushes past her and she knows that St. Louis is so very far 
away and that only He matters, His touch, His desire.  She closes her eyes and 
snuggles deeper into His arms until only the sound of His heartbeat, strong and 
neverending, fills her world.

'There is a little creature inside of you,' He says, and though she's just a 
little girl, she listens closely and understands.

'Like the shadows?'  Her eyes are big brown orbs in the darkness and there is a 
small smile on her mouth.

He grins.  'Exactly.  But the shadow inside you is stronger than they are and 
they know it.  That's why they watch you.  Why you interest them.  It will grow 
as you grow and it will soon lurk behind your thoughts, always just out of the 
light.  But you will feel it.'

He looks down at her, His smile gone and His face solemn.  'You must never fear 
the shadow.  Because then you fear yourself.'

The world stops moving and she realizes that she is standing still, shadows 
dancing about her, in the belly of the Beast.  She can see him only barely in 
the gloom, as he stands apart from her.  Not towering now - she's not a little 
girl anymore.  Her hands still clutch at the leash but her arms lay against 
bare flesh.  She stands before him naked and leashed and lost in a world that 
she can only barely see and she knows that she stands at another threshold, the 
second.

He turns to her, a gentle smile out of place with the hard animal look in his 
black eyes, and tosses a silver orb at her feet.  It bounces lazily and as it 
brushes her naked ankle, it explodes in black dust.  She steps back, startled 
and a tiny scream is lost in her throat as each of the tiny grains of black 
dust begins to move on long spindly legs.

Spiders, baby spiders exploding from their mother and she closes her eyes, 
fighting the panic.  She steps back, away from the dark flower of thousands of 
tiny spiders that is growing, and her foot steps on something clammy and she 
goes down.  Her butt cushions the fall but she twists, trying not to land in 
the mass of spiders so she ends up on her side, looking into the eyes of the 
clammy thing that was under her feet.

This time the scream clears her throat as the thin black snake regards her for 
a moment, then dives for her.  Her arm flies up but that's what it wants and it 
wraps its leathery body about her wrist, coiling tight, black head sliding up 
her forearm to her elbow.  Screaming now, panic taking her, she sees more 
snakes, a nest of them, slithering across the floor and finding her ankles, her 
waist, both wrists now.

She fights but there are too many of them and they are strong.  Two encircle 
her wrists then send their long tails out at each other, locking and wrapping 
together, drawing her wrists together behind her.  She looses her balance and 
slips down into the mass of swarming black bodies and they cover her, drawing 
up around her tightly.  Her feet are wrestled together and wrapped, coils of 
black holding her thighs together tightly.  Her elbows are methodically brought 
together behind her and she feels as if a solid mass of leathery skin holds her 
arms from her shoulders to her fingers.  Two snakes knot themselves in her hair 
and within seconds she is laying on her belly, arms behind her, feet pulled up 
and held to her hair by a rope of intertwined snakes, her head forced back 
painfully.

Her screams are now panicked grunts as her body is lost to her and when a thick 
snake wraps itself around her chin, forcing its way into her mouth as it wraps 
itself around her head, even her grunts are silenced.

She lays still, wrapped so tight only her chest moves as she struggles to draw 
breath.  She feels them tensing and relaxing, the hundreds of snakes wrapped 
about her a living cocoon.  They suddenly shift and she's rolled onto her side, 
head pulled back as they strain to bring her toes as tightly up to her neck 
behind her.

She's forgotten about the spiders.  Now unable to do anything but watch the 
flower of black grow towards, her she closes her eyes as the first of the 
little legs crawls over her body.  They are everywhere and though she fights 
the snakes that hold her, the thousands of little pricks on her skin nearly 
drive her insane.  Thousands crawl over her thighs and belly, scamper across 
her hips, find the hollow of her ears.  When she feels a mass of them clustered 
on each breast, feels the probing of their needle legs, she looses it and 
shrieks wildly around the leathery snake wrapped between her lips.

Then He is there, unseen save for the outline of his body in the shadowy mists. 
 'Shhhhh.  The shadow has many bodies like a house with many rooms.  Fear it 
and you will loose your mind.'

The spindly legs around her breasts work her nipples into hard buttons and the 
stimulation turns her panic into something else, a flash fire that has fed off 
the fuel of her fear and caught something smoldering deep inside her.  Her hips 
strain against the snakes that hold her thighs fast and her whole world is 
focused on her nipples as the tiny needles dance about her flesh.

'Embrace it and you are lost forever in its arms.'

The needles at her nipples intensify, as if they are working into a frenzy, 
their bites becoming more pronounced.  And she feels something working between 
her legs, a snake that has slid up from the coils around her knees.

'You and the Beast inside you are one.  It is just a shadow to you...'

....her nipples are being pulled out now, the little legs acting like little 
hooks, pulling her flesh taut, and the snake has found the musky warmth of her 
pussy lips and slides inside her...

'...a shadow that can rise up and blot out the world with its power.'

....her nipples erupt in pain as two legs, larger than the others, suddenly 
pierce her flesh and drive straight through.  The snake between her legs slides 
its head out of the mouth of her pussy lips, the rest of its body still thickly 
imbedded inside her, and finds the fold of her clit, biting hard with little 
fangs.

She squirms, unable to move, screams, unable to hear her own voice, and 
shudders as the first real orgasm of her life explodes from the pain in her 
nipples and clit and the helpless embrace of the shadow.  She closes her eyes, 
her body riding the wave of electricity that runs through her.  Her nipples, 
now pierced, are worked and twisted and the snake that holds her clit between 
its sharp fangs wriggles its head from side to side in rhythm to the steady 
sliding of its body in and out of her.

She's aware of a soft moan and somewhere, in the part of her mind that isn't on 
overload, she realizes that the noise is coming from her.  The snakes holding 
her body move now, allowing her to slide her hips with the snake that fucks her 
and sometimes, as they sense another orgasm building, they all become rigid 
forcing her to complete immobility, forcing her to just feel what is being done 
to her, forcing her to listen to the song of her skin and her nerves as it 
sings in beautiful agony.  The orgasms stretch into a time when she no longer 
is aware of anything but the  warm glow from deep inside her.  The glow that 
comes from her Beast.


SHADOWS

She looked peaceful - like an angel taking a nap.  If it weren't for the small 
line of drool that trickled past the thick strip of leather filling her mouth 
and puffing her cheeks she would have looked perfect for a mattress commercial. 
 I lay next to her in the early dawn hours watching her breathe, the soft rise 
and fall of her breasts - breasts that were nicely framed by two bands of rope. 
 My hand followed the line from her shoulders, running across her soft flesh, 
past the ropes holding her elbows and wrists to the small of her back, over the 
waist rope that anchored the rope running through her puss, down her thighs 
where she was tied at both knees and calves and finally ankles.  She was the 
picture of captured beauty.  And in the hour before the sun would rise and 
there was that morning twilight, I lay with a girl that was totally at my 
mercy, and by extension, at the mercy of the Beast.  And happy.  Shit.  What a 
fucked up thing. 

I gave her new nipple rings a tweak, the skin a little puffed and red, now 
invaded by the most delicate of silver.  She stirred and her eyes, eyes that 
changed color from blue to green as arousal took her, opened and slowly focused 
on me.  Athena hadn't ever wanted to be tied, although I tied her anyways 
whenever I felt like it.  This girl, Tracie, was made to be tied.  She squirmed 
a little, eyes never leaving mine, making sure she still was helpless, then 
glanced down at the little rings in her nipples.

I smiled, and my hand found the new ring that was in her clit hood.  She moaned 
as I gave it a little tug and our eyes met.  She blinked and when they opened 
again they were turning green - a dark green.  I knew that if I asked her at 
that moment if she wanted to be tied and fucked every waking minute for the 
rest of her life she would have nodded her head, yes.  The thought got me 
going.  The beast inside stirred, but he'd gotten his fill last night.  This 
was for me.

I leaned over her and kissed her cheek.  She turned her head and parted her 
lips as wide as the leather strap would allow.  She wanted that out of her 
mouth and she wanted a real kiss.  I chuckled and shook my head.  Some girls 
look too good with a gag in their mouth.  I slid down and undid the ropes 
holding her legs together.  She got the idea and began a little hum, almost 
like a purr, deep in her throat, her legs parting.  God this shit was so easy.

I wanted her on top of me - I wanted to knead and caress her flesh like my E 
string.  I wanted to feel her vibration under my fingers.  Rolling over onto my 
back, I helped her climb over my torso.  She was graceful with her arms lost 
behind her and I wondered absently if there was a way you could practice that.  
I held her close to me, her head resting on my chest, her nipple rings and tied 
breasts pressed against me, knees straddling my waist.  Slowly, I moved her 
hips down until I slid into her, parting the two strands of rope that pushed 
her pussy lips together.  She moaned a little and snuggled against me as I 
started to fuck her slowly.

I closed my eyes and soon there was nothing else in the world but this soft and 
helpless girl atop me, enveloping me, taking everything I did to her.  I 
reached around the back of her neck and undid the buckle on the leather strap, 
freeing her lips.  She was kissing me instantly, her soft mouth greedily 
sucking and covering mine.  When she moaned deep in her throat, I felt it in 
mine.  And as the rhythm picked up and our bodies slid against each other with 
more urgency, I pushed her up so that she sat on my dick and ground her puss 
into me.  I pulled the sensitive rings in her nipples and she let out a low 
moan, her eyes closed, brown bangs plastered on her forehead, cheeks flushed.  
I pulled the silver and then slapped the underside of her breast, giving both 
breasts equal treatment.

She ground into me, taking my dick deeper and deeper and then rose up on her 
knees, almost coming off me completely, then slammed back down again.  I was 
turning the underside of her breasts a nice pink and she was on the brink of 
coming.  I pulled both nipple rings long and hard, forcing her to tug on them 
harshly every time she rose up.  She picked up her pace, fighting the agony in 
her breasts with every thrust, and finally she stiffened, her pelvis grinding 
into mine one last time.  A high pitched squeal came from her and I held on as 
long as I could.  Her pussy gave my dick one last urgent squeeze and we both 
exploded.  She slammed back onto my chest, her head buried in my neck and as I 
unloaded everything I had into her it was her soft breath on my neck, a soft 
panting, that did it for me.  I held her to me tightly never wanting to let her 
go and our breathing soon became one as I lay there, still inside her.

I stroked her hair - apple blossom - and rubbed her bound hands.  Soon she had 
fallen asleep on top of me and though I'd gotten soft, the tip of my dick was 
still enveloped in her warm flesh.  All I saw was blackness.  I loved her.  And 
that was bad.  The power that we both had would consume us both.  The Beast had 
left His mark on her and she had accepted it.  Never before had I given anyone 
to Him that I wanted for myself.  He knew this - He knew everything.  He would 
use her, punish her, take her through one torture after another, each more 
sadistic than the last.  And she would be drawn to Him.  She would take 
whatever He gave her, endure whatever He did to her.  She would fall in love 
with Him.

And think He was me.  He was the embodiment of all that was dark, all that was 
animal, primal.  He was raw power.  If you stood outside in a storm He would be 
the arc of electricity that knocked you on your ass.  If you stood on the beach 
as high tide was coming in, He was the wave that hit you and pulled you under.  
He was the fire that seared your soul, the blackness that blinded you.  He was 
every fear you ever had and He was the one who forced you to face them.  He 
tied you and teased you, using your body as trussed flesh, raking your nerve 
endings until they screamed.  He crawled into your head in the wee hours of the 
morning and whispered what He would do to you in your ear and you said 'yes, 
hurt me, make me scream, make me cry, destroy me, use me, make me Yours, bind 
me to You forever.'

She had to know this.  She was the same creature as I was.  She, too had a 
Beast, only her Beast drove her to submission.  Her Beast used her power as a 
gift, a precious commodity that was both treasured and made to give away.  Her 
body, her mind, her soul - all were the power that She gave to Him.  It was a 
gift that He would accept always.  Even if it meant that we would consume each 
other.

I rolled her onto her side and she stirred but didn't wake.  I got up and found 
the pile of her clothes, the emptiness of my apartment a stark sterile world in 
the first light of this new day.  I found what I was looking for and settled in 
next to her.

"Love," I whispered in her ear.  She moaned and opened her eyes.  She smiled as 
she focused, her blue eyes instantly clear and sparkling.  I helped her sit up 
and we sat facing each other, cross-legged.  She leaned over and kissed me.  
More of that gracefulness.  I returned her kiss and finally pushed her away, 
instantly missing her soft lips on mine.

She saw what I had in my hands and her cheeks flushed a little.  She was about 
to comment but I stopped her by putting a finger to her lips.  "Do you know 
what you are fucking with?"

She smiled nervously, eyes darting down to what I held in my hands then back 
up.  Her breath was already picking up and the flush in her cheeks grew.

"Yes."  Direct look, into my eyes, not looking away.  Not even for a second.

I held the collar up to her, the leash still dangling from the opened lock.  It 
had taken only a few seconds to pick the novelty lock, but once on again I 
doubted she would be able to get it opened.  Nor want to.

"Do you know what this means?  Do you know what it means if I lock this on you?"

Her eyes were suddenly glistening and I was sure that a tear would follow.  But 
she shook her head, yes.

I leaned in and kissed her trembling lips.  When I pulled back her cheeks were 
streaked.  "You have to say it, Tracie."

She took a deep breath, the little circlets of silver in her nipples bobbing 
pertly.  When she spoke, it was in a soft, wavering voice.  "When you place 
that collar on me, I will be bound to you.  Forever."

"Unless I release you,"  I whispered.  Our eyes were locked and the only sound 
in the bare room was our breathing.  Outside the gray world was turning a rosy 
pink and the morning birds - the cardinals - were making their unique twirling 
calls.  Outside was another world, a different world, where people lived 
normal, if not mundane lives.  Outside was the Athena and the Hubcaps world, 
where trashing a bar was good word-of-mouth, and that break-out record deal was 
just a few gigs away.  Outside was debt and poverty and excessive waste and 
headlines and issues and everything else that mattered to the gray people - the 
people who lived without a Beast, without that thing that stirred you, that 
thing that saw only passion and pain and ecstasy - the Beast that gave you 
power.

Inside these bare walls were shadows.  The seconds slowed to a stop and in the 
end there was only the two of us - one, a young girl from half a world away, 
tied and helpless in body, powerful in spirit.  The other, a muse who used song 
as bait for a trap he couldn't control.  And now the wires had crossed and 
fused together.

"Yes.  I understand," she said, a fresh tear staining her cheek.  I leaned in 
and slid the collar around her neck, kissing her forehead.  I slid the lock 
home through the latch and found her eyes.  Her lips trembled.  Then she looked 
down, bowing her head.

I clicked the lock shut.



* * * THE END * * *

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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