1 comments/ 12072 views/ 0 favorites Ember Burn: The Curved Path By: hdm303lj "May I ask you something, Mister Fixxxer?" "Sure." "You still have connection within Thoughts Consolidated, correct?" "Depends..." "I would like for you to inquire about the individual known as Ember Burn." I smiled politely. The rumor connection Ember to TC isn't new... and not all that wrong; I just wondered why a schoolteacher would have need of his services. Aside from the obvious. Looking around her living room, there is nothing overt indication her BDSM slant. Even her face betrayed nothing but idle curiosity. Always a dead giveaway where Ember's concerned. "How shall I contact you? I assume discretion is vital." She nodded, her face never shifting expression "Take your deck offline. In three days bring it to the Cavern. Ask for Ancient, and give him your deck." I called Ember on the way to my office, dropping him the information on this latest curveball. * * * * Patricia Millner waited patiently as the deck technician tapped away on her deck. When he finished, he handed it back, smiling at another completed job. Slotting her credstick, she smiled and headed out. In her home, she activated the deck, the trode rig resting comfortably on her head. It didn't take her long to find out that nothing had been altered. Confused, she jacked out. Sighing, she twirled her credstick around. "Sneaky," she chuckled. She grabbed her coat and left. * * * * "Thank you for seeing me, Mister Burns." "I was wondering if you'd figure it out. Your Honda's autopilot gave me the idea. How can I be of assistance?" "I've heard certain rumors about services you provide." "Such as...?" "I am a single woman interested in the BDSM sub-culture in this area. I realize that many of the subjects are powerful individuals. What I seek is visual confirmation of the acts... not dirt." "And I fit in how?" "There are rumors..." "Look, chica. I know you're all biz. I know that you're asking for a voyeurs experience or more. Spit it out. Not being rude... just honest." "Well... Please forgive me; I'm new to..." "I understand. But please... everyone has a bit of Freak in them. If all you want is a live show I can easily arrange for you to watch me during a session. No charge. That's only for you; I like how you conduct yourself in meets. "I'll make sure no one sees you leave your home. Privacy is something I pride myself on. When's good for you?" "How soon can you be ready?" she said, a bit too eagerly for her liking. * * * * "I'll start with a soft session; by the looks of you, a full on hard session would be a bit much. This is Donna. She lives here" She nodded at the naked female. Ember stood beside his slave... then pushed her towards one of the plush loveseats. She obeyed instantly, bending over with practice ease. "A soft session generally involves at best only mild spanking. Pinching and love-bites... the ones that leave no lasting marks or draw blood... are standard as well. Nearly indistinguishable from 'ordinary' sex, actually. In Donna's case, I take my pleasure from her at will." During his speech, his hands caressed Donna's ample rear. Patricia listened intently, quietly fighting her own rising arousal. "Most soft sessions are typically humiliation inspired..." Suddenly he slapped her ass, leaving one bright red handprint on Donna's pink flesh. Patricia jumped, squeezing her legs together. "fantasies. And in this, there is a wide range. Urination and scatology are among them; you'd be surprised how many people get aroused watching their Significant Other use the facilities." "Horse..." Donna gasped as Ember filled her sex with several fingers. "play. Animal play actually... when one dressed up and behaves in the manner of said animal. Cats are popular. "Now... each Master has Rules. I have more than my fair share. One of which being... if you are a guest, you arte bound by the Rule of Control. My slaves are mine... not yours. Respect this. My Slaves are Human beings with Free Wills; they all choose to be here... be my Slave. No... means no. EOF." Patricia found it difficult to concentrate; Donna's moans and groans... and the way she moved her hips... She licked her lips, adjusting herself in the comfortable chair. She placed her hands in her laps, pushing gently on her crotch. "One thing... if you find yourself aroused, please feel free. Like I said before: privacy is guaranteed." Patricia blushed... and turned her head slightly. "Ah... That is also common for a soft session. Being naked around strangers is bad enough for some. Being observed masturbating is damn near taboo... though many with this fetish-slash-hang up have been caught by authority figures at least twice. First time accident... with the second one being the erotic one." While he talked, Donna came. Loudly; the dark haired woman moaned, thrusting her back into the air. Ember adjusted slightly, fingering her hard... yet he did not show any other acknowledgment of Donna's presence. Patricia groaned, her nostrils flaring at the overwhelming scent of arousal. He didn't stop, pushing Donna into yet another orgasm. His slave adjusted herself, yet remained in place, accepting his ministrations. She gripped her crotch through her dress, squeezing the mound gently. He'd stopped speaking, keeping her squarely in her gaze. Patricia watched as she slowly removed his fingers from Donna's sex. She didn't move. "One thing I require from my Slave is Trust... not surprising since they trust me with more than their physical safety. I am responsible for their emotional safety as well, though you'd be hard pressed to prove it a good thing in a court of law. I will not lie to them... and expect no less from them. While privacy is respected... if there is something that affects me..." He shrugged. By that time, he'd wiggled two fingers into Donna rear entrance. Patricia moved over, all pretenses abandoned as she moved to get a better view. "So... with that in mind... why do you rub yourself and not take full advantage of my hospitality?" Patricia lowered her head, somewhat bothered by her honest answer. "Afraid you won't like my body." "Let me guess... hubby ditched you for a skinny ditbrain with large tits." She smiled, chuckling softly. "It's not magic; sadly... it's Status Quo. You'll notice that most of the women here are, to be polite, plump women. This is mostly my own preference of body types... and more this stupidity than I'm actually comfortable with." His eyes narrowed. The room seemed to darken, along with his mood. He removed his hand, taking Donna by one hanging breast. She moved instantly, dropping to her knees and pulling Ember's jogging pants to the floor. Patricia gasped, and then giggled. "You can't be serious!" he chuckled. "I am by no means hung like a mule." He laughed, shaking his head... as Donna swallowed him. "You're interesting, Patricia. I hope... you've enjoyed yourself." "Indeed," Patricia moaned. She pulled up the front of her dress, stroking her panty-clad crotch. "Who was your last lover?" "My ex... the one..." He raised his hand... and smiled. Patricia rose and started removing her blouse. He raised one hand, stopping her. "Donna... please see to our Guest." Patricia allowed herself to be undressed. Donna pushed her back into the chair, propping her legs on each armrest. When she plastered her mouth over Patricia's sex, the schoolteacher threw her head back and swore violently... and sprayed her nectar over Donna's face. The growl rolled through her. Eyes snapping open, she saw Ember behind Donna. He pulled her up. He filled her violently, the motion transferred to Donna stiffened tongue... which rammed into Patricia's depths. Patricia grabbed her ankles, pulling her legs skyward. Donna wrapped her arms around her back, pulling her forward as she removed her tongue... only to slide the invader into Patricia's exposed asshole. * * * * "Thank you for the demonstration." "My pleasure. I hope I was able to clarify some things." "Indeed. May I ask a personal question?" "Shoot?" "Is it wrong... to want someone who loves you... to treat you like that?" "Not at all, Patricia. Remember what I said about Trust? Love is the ultimate expression of Trust. Yet Complete Trust goes beyond even this. To Know that regardless of how twisted we get... someone still Loves us... will be there... is rare indeed. So no... it's not wrong. Difficult to obtain is a gross understatement "Nor is it wrong to want to experience Everything-But. Done carefully and responsibly it's extremely helpful. So I offer this: if you'd like, drop by here. My Housekeeper will see that you have a room available. You can make all arrangements with her, including setting up the times and any rules you request or would like to clarify. I know... sounds all business-like. Then again... it's Personal Biz... the most dangerous kind." "Thank you. How..." "She's waiting for you in the garage." I gave her a hug. Appropriate... and calming. Though she was not a psion, she'd walked the same Paths I'd crossed. Self-doubt. The feeling of being abnormal in her wants and needs. She'd return, and always fret over others view. Given the bulldrek spread about my home I wouldn't expect any less. The only unknown... is how she'll react. And will she stand when they knock her down. * * * * Necropolis - The Standard "She decided to stay the night." "Figured; her eyes gave her away." "Will you be taking her?" "Perhaps... after the Groundrules are established. By the way..." "She says she'd rather discuss that with you." "And you sound torqued. Believe me, Deborah... it will happen again if you happen to come in on the ground level. Anyhow... see to it that she behaves herself. She's still a guest." "May I ask a question?" "Shoot." "Since she is a guest..." "So long as she says yes... and you clean up the mess," he chuckled. * * * * It didn't bother me... Deborah taking an interest in Patricia sexually. What did bother me... was the way Deborah constantly clung to her more conservative ways outside Darkhaven Manor. That comes from a Theory in the Deck. The old expression, "Coming out of the closet," used to refer to people openly stating their homosexuality. Soon came to mean exposing any potentially damaging... or personally embarrassing... situation. To hear Ace tell it... "The instant you use the closet analogy, you've introduced an element of surprise into the person on the other side of that door. And since when did surprised people ever act perfectly rational or logical? Even better... popping outta the dark... into the light... always blinds ya for a tick. Never a good thing." First Erik... now this. Sighing heavily I phased into the Nothing. While adding one more Pathway to the mix didn't stretch my ability in the slightest, it did let me know one thing... I've grown very powerful... maybe too powerful. * * * * Watching Deborah move is like watching your slightly overweight grandmother walk around with an air of confident superiority... when she wore clothes... which was more often than not. In contrast, Patricia moved like a schoolteacher: not one micron of seductiveness to her movement. Her hips didn't even sway... quite a feat for someone with a rear unaffected by the oh-so-common White-Woman's Ass Syndrome... two-dimensional. Deborah entered the guest room after knocking. I chose not to listen in... mainly because I wanted to see what went down before I listened in. That... and as every empath and full psion knows...count on the walls having ears and eyes. Patricia stood near the window, drying her hair. She looked yummy in the white bathrobe. Apparently Deborah didn't notice... or was just immune to the curves. She never sat during their conversation... which upset Patricia after three minutes. Patricia always led with her eyes... and her face inevitably followed. During her first Visitation I watched her as I fingered Donna. The casual onlooker would only see her eyes dart to Donna's body. I saw the Truth... the tension as she tried **not** to **stare** at Donna. During her conversation with Deborah I saw Patricia's eyes... and they were constantly searching Deborah. You'd have to be a Predator to Understand the meaning. I am. Now... when Deborah left Patricia, two things happened. First... Patricia dropped her casual stance slightly. Her feet moved apart slightly, and she removed her hands from the bathrobe pockets. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she turned her torso just enough to suggest she was moving elsewhere... to anyone not familiar with martial arts. The second... was Deborah. She didn't appear upset or angry or even interested. Controlled... very much so. But... forced. That settles it. Time to see what's going on in her mind. The door shut. Red light on... then off; maglock engaged and encoded. Patricia exhaled, yanking off the robe after taking a few more breaths. She flopped onto the bed, clearly trying to banish the recent conversation from her mind. I smiled when one hand drifted to her covered mound. Deborah made her way into the kitchen. Normally the Twins are experimenting there. Tonight the room was empty. She fixed herself a small snack, turned on the trid... and waited. I say waited... because she kept checking the clock with quick looks. I slid a tendril into her mind, the process nearly a physical thing... to her. She blinked oddly, then settled down. Aside from the overt sexual thoughts about her lover Erik and the aftereffects of my one-shot, her mind was Southside Local Status Quo... dead, dull and boring. All thoughts about Patricia were at best... sideline acknowledgements. An idle mind... That went into motion when the alarm signaled Erik's arrival. The other drivers nearly bashed his skull in once word got out that he'd scored an exclusive with Darkhaven Manor. Deborah mothered him through the initial pain. Since then the poor slot can't think a crooked thought without her somewhere in the Flow. Meanwhile, Patricia slowed her breathing, the three orgasms doing wonders for her. I replayed the scenes... and grimaced. Standard clit-and-hole play. Retrieving her thoughts is very possible... but requires either a personal touch or contacting a Denizen. Since Meanstreak's arrival, I try to avoid denizens. Watching the replay I spotted something else... she avoided her asshole with practiced care and familiarity. As she lay on the bed I slipped into her mind. Not bad; I actually expected worse. Playing doctor with her brother. First look at a troll's dick. One name flickered in her memory: Jesse. She smiled Realtime as I browsed her memories of him. Not bad looking... if you care for a traditional-looking blonde-haired, truck driving, beer drinking Redneck. Joker was stereotype to the gills... and beyond. And this... is the Why Behind her previous question? Had to be a psion who said Love is blind. I let both scenes fall away... then brought up Patricia front and center. REM sleep... when the good dreams Flow. I felt Donna shift her attention. Through her eyes I saw Deborah and Erik making their way to Deb's apartment. True to form, Donna didn't have a bad emotion in her body. Just happiness... and that sickening source of sadness. Patricia just happened to roll over... still asleep... and I saw one hand slide between her thighs... and the middle finger worm its way into her asshole. Smiling, I contacted Donna. * * * * He claims to only be using a fraction of his power. If that's chip, then what he did that first time was... an eye blink. Whenever I Felt his Thoughts, my entire body comes alive. Try imagining going from whatever to rampant slut instantly. Nausea. Cramps. Disorientation... and each of them and the other symptoms... all hotwired to your pleasure senses. Walking in a pair of jeans will make you cum. Breathe too hard... suck air through your teeth. Just standing on the floor. I'm used to it... almost. It still takes me nearly ten minutes before I regain Reality. When I do, I head upstairs. * * * * Playtime. Watching her dreams carefully, I forced Patricia to awaken... right as her dream-arousal was at a good point to carry over. She rolled over and then rose, wiping the sleep from her eyes. She reached for the nightstand, trying to turn off the lamp. That's when the amber light blinked three times. This time I Recorded the sound. For later; Donna has yet to fail me. Patricia stands behind the door... an odd thing considering Donna is totally nude. Donna doesn't speak; she walks into the bedroom and promptly tucks herself in. Patricia, understandably flustered, holds the door open for a few moments before closing and locking it. I watch as she tries to converse with Donna. When she gives up... the real show begins. Donna's near the middle of the bed. Now... Patricia has several options of where to flop. Her face tells the tale, flowing through the pros and cons of sleeping next to a nude female and such. Donna rolls over, stretching. In the process, one breast manages to escape the comforter. Then recognition flows onto Patricia's features. I slide into her mind again, catching the tail end of the Thought. Rumor... judging by the sliver I managed to See. Patricia joins Donna... who moves over, giving her a bit of room. I smile when Patricia takes the bait. After turning off the light, she sets about adjusting her sleeping position until her rear just comes into contact with Donna's flesh. While Donna does the Sleep dance I check in on Deborah and Erik. Both fast asleep. Erik's face looked so peaceful... it took me several moments to choke back the urge to rip it from his skull. Deborah, however, looked smug. Developing an ego... and this after her mistake with Donna. The whimpers pull me back to Patricia. Donna does that when she's having The Dream. Patricia, who by now is holding her spoon-fashion, immediately makes with the soothing sounds and caresses. She stays clear of the sexual organs... until Donna, now awake enough to know where she is, drags Patricia's moving hand to her own crotch. Patricia plays with Donna's clit gently... and instinctively. Then comes the neck nuzzle. I don't have a clue why it made me laugh. Yes I do... it's normal. When Patricia let her nose tickle Donna's neck... it was nothing more than a signal to stop faking sleep and get down to sex. That movement is near classic in its simplicity... and she performs it like a pro. Donna rolls over, that smile cocking her lips. She doesn't waste time with tender kisses. Patricia looked shocked for a moment. A brief moment... which ended with her caressing Donna's hair as she nursed one breasts... while fingering her sex. Donna made her way down to Patricia's crotch. Patricia... cocked her legs open. The choice of words is most appropriate; her legs flew open on instinct... not the slow, seductive movement of a horn-dog chica. No... this motion belonged to a well-trained frag-toy. And her reaction reminded me of a porn star... utterly over-the-top senseless whimpering and excitement. Her hands made a mess of Donna's hair. Toes curled and uncurled. Close it with a near horizontal spread with locked knees... Now... Donna's turn. Patricia didn't flinch at having a cunt dropped onto her face. What she **did** do... was dive in eagerly... and finger Donna's asshole without any reservation. I felt my eyebrow raise as the Thought formed. As usual, it Felt Right... which meant the rising growl from the Beast wasn't just Hunger pangs. I'd make this up to Donna later. Right now... it was about information gathering. Donna drools when she's eating out. So much so that it began rolling down Patricia's ass cleft. The first dollop that oozed over it... made it wink. Patricia inhaled... then **really** went to town on Donna... or at least in her own mind. The radiated animegasms began to annoy me... Ember Burn: The Curved Path * * * * She won't stay long. She'll only anger him; she doesn't have the strength necessary. She moves like a practiced wannabe stripper... like a married woman who learns the Art of Strippin' to keep hubby's OCS in the doss. There is a subtle difference in good sex... and practiced sex. She knows how to eat a woman out... but she doesn't know drek about me. She's going on rumor alone. Her last orgasm pulls her into slumber... thank Ghost. I wait until she's asleep before leaving. The door opens automatically, closing behind me. She'd check the system... but wouldn't find anything. She'd check her body... and find nothing. All evidence would be gone... except for her own memory. * * * * Ember Burn - 99.99% "Patricia's downstairs." "How is she dressed?" "Silver spaghetti top, black skirt and stockings and heels. No jewelry... not even earrings." "Your take?" "I think she's interested. Other than that I honestly can't say. She's definitely in submissive mode..." "You don't believe her." "I do... I just don't think she fully understands what she's in for." "They seldom do, Donna. Show her to the Hospital Room." "As ordered." * * * * I kept the smile from showing, even in my eyes. Patricia's heels clicked loudly on the synthetic marble floor, bouncing off the walls eerily. I didn't need to see her face to know the questions running through her mind. * * * * The Hospital Room is not a place I frequent regularly. It's only used for those Slaves with urine and hospital fetishes. The oddest thing about the place isn't the sickening white walls or the overwhelming smell of scrubbed-beyond-sanitized. It's the lack of medical professionals who've been here... like zero. The instant I'm seen is a first for both women. Donna in particular; she's never seen me dressed in Shadows, and takes several steps back, a look of wonder wringing her pretty features. Patricia doesn't raise her head. I stride past Patricia, stopping in front of Donna. She looks into my eyes, the wonder slowly giving way to fear... which excites her. She keeps her breathing as normal as possible as her own lust slowly builds within her. I wait patiently... for three minutes. She doesn't move, nor does she lower her eyes. "You may want to wait in the Sanctum, Donna." The bowing doesn't quite shield her excitement. As soon as she's out of sight I whirl around, slapping Patricia on her ass with a bare hand. She yelps/gasps, jumping away. The growl does more than frighten her... it casts a darkness over what I see. I reach beneath her dress, encountering the familiar barrier of pantyhose... a rare item in 2078... and nothing else. No pseudo-panty guard... just thin fabric and the seam, which runs between the cleft of her rear and cunt. I find her clit and pinch. She hisses, fighting not to clamp down... to simply accept. It's a sign of a new submissive. I tell her to remove the blouse and skirt as I turn around. Somewhere within my Mind I See another body... and know full well what Patricia will experience. The bar looks like the walls, the sick white color making it difficult to find unless you know where too look. Reminding myself to thank Hammerstrike for the lighting scheme I pour her a glass of water. I watch her drink, totally disinterested in the act. She tries to search my gaze for some clue about my plans. She doesn't see the drain open silently beneath her. Once finished, I nod towards the bar. She pauses, trying to discern where the bar is. Again I slap her rear... harder this time. She doesn't make a sound, but jumps to obey. Even from the back I can see her blend of pain, pleasure, confusion and sexual arousal on her face. She places the glass on the counter top, and then begins to turn around. She doesn't hear me approach... aware of my presence only when I grab her left shoulder. She makes yet another mistake, bending over. Cocking my head to one side, I instruct her to remain there. I look at the cat-o-nine tails, the white leather slightly disturbing. Snorting softly, I bring it down over her exposed back. She screams, jerks... and regains her position. I listen for the sobs... striking again at the first blessed sound. Deep Within, that sound brings her image into clear focus. Smiling wickedly, I bring the whip down across her back, drawing back just enough to curl the leather strips in preparation. Flicking my wrist, the tips explode across one ass cheek, obliterating a swath of fabric. No matter how many times I see it, it still amazes me. Whip the back and very few think to protect themselves. The ass is another matter; nearly every single Slave whips a hand to their rear, hoping to protect their sensitive rear. She learns the lesson when I strike the exact same spot... and her hand and wrist. "Better." * * * * It's too close to the hard style favored by Dungeon Crawlers for my tastes, yet I had to see what he was doing to her. Not quite true, the way he was dressed... the way he looked through me... into me. Eyes closed, I listened to Patricia's torment. It wasn't long before I had three fingers deep inside my sex. Part of me wanted to see. Part of me... the part I'm all too familiar with... screamed at me to run. Not that I didn't have anywhere to go... I wanted to see what was in store for me when he finished with her. * * * * There comes a point when the only thing in a Slave's entire existence is the Pain/Pleasure... when the impact of whip, hand or whatever ceases to be a concern... when the only thing that really matters is the Oblivion of their situation. Patricia reached that point quickly... which always disappoints me. A crumpled heap on the floor, sobbing in pain and after orgasmic tremors, she looked pathetic. And, as expected, the glint of ecstatic happiness deep within her eyes. I grab her hair and roughly push her onto her hands and knees, momentarily disoriented by the superimposed Memory. She reacts slowly and clumsily. I leave her there for the moment, returning the cat-o-nine to the hidden cabinet... and retrieving the only black instrument in that collection: a bullwhip. Returning, I fill her cunt with the butt end of the whip. Before her shocked gasp can fully escape I flick her back with the exposed end. It doesn't take force... just impact. She yelps, whimpers, and starts crawling towards the exit. "Something wrong?" "I have to urinate, sir." "What's stopping you?" I growl, striking her back a bit harder. It's just a squirt, but the effect is immediate. She clamps around the bullwhip's handle... activating the circuitry. The electrical impulses are not enough to do any damage, though a wet vaginal cavern doesn't really concern itself with such scientific matters; the surge confuses her. Clench to push it out or relax and obey. And as she tried to make up her mind, her bladder released, spraying her partly covered mound with golden fluid. I lean to one side and watch her face. The difference between her and Marsha is evident. Marsha wants the humiliation; Patricia is only now experiencing it. I don't give her a chance to think, fragging her with the charged invader while whipping her rear and back. I hear her choke back tears, and lean close to an ear. "Get used to the sensation. Even if your Master is your One True Love... this sensation will be with you." The words are low, growled through barely open lips. * * * * I can't help but scream; the orgasm is more powerful than any I've ever felt. My eyes snap open. Both hands grip my sex... and I can't stop frigging myself. I curl into a ball... try to slow my breathing. * * * * The twins wait patiently in the main hall, summoned by mental command. They've grown accustom to my summons, though they still believe its magic based. Patricia's barely conscious, struggling to keep from sprawling onto the floor. "See that she gets to her room," I say, dropping the bullwhip. Butt end still deep in her sex, Hey moves towards Patricia, bowing slightly. "When you've recovered, we'll begin again. She gets two hours of rest, and then return her to the Hospital Room." * * * * I hear the silent opening. I sit up and slide from his bed. When he takes a handful of my hair I obey immediately, fishing his member from the black slacks. I don't mind the sudden feel of him in my mouth... then down my throat. I expected it; there's something very dark trying to surface inside Ember. Something I've only glimpsed. This is not about me, though I know I'll be more than satisfied. I settle down onto my knees and let him frag my face, sucking him vigorously. When he does cum, it becomes very clear that I will not be enough for him. I look up, catching his gaze... And know real fear in his presence for the first time. * * * * Neither of them satisfies me, though Donna comes closest. Fear fills my nostrils, the scent all the more frustrating for the image that refuses to leave my Mind's Eye. Donna is the only one to ever see the face of the Beast Within... and not run screaming into the night, mind flayed beyond all hope of sanity. She sits there... chained by a fear so primal it cannot be denied. "Rise." She obeys, never taking her eyes from me... and astounded that she has to look up at me. I bend slightly, taking one leg in hand. She turns just enough to allow me access to her sex, still entranced... * * * * No. This one is not blinded by the denied fury simmering beneath Human eyes. She is not enthralled by the Power assaulting her. In her eyes I see the fearful surrender of a knowing Slave. I pull out lips into a caring... asking smile. She should not Know the fury about to grace her body, yet she understands her Place. * * * * It is pure, unadulterated fragging. I'm just there to provide a body and available orifices. Usually, all I care about is sex. Now I see the difference Ember always spoke about... but I never thought much on. He filled me totally, slamming into... then beyond... my uterus. Pain lanced through me, quickly overwhelmed and amplified by his powerful thrusts. I flung my arms around his neck, pinning my leg to his chest. It hurt... and I didn't care. I didn't care... because of that smile. Sad... apologetic. I didn't count my orgasms, I just came and came. I don't remember him pulling free, or spinning me around. I lifted my face from the comforter on his bed as he filled me again... with even more power than before. I can't think... only react. * * * * I tuck her into my bed, swallowing the last drams of guilt. Donna's served me well since arriving. Now, body pushed beyond endurance, she sleeps the Sleep of the Dead. Her entire body is slack; even her eyes seem to lack the energy for REM sleep... dead man's floating in their sockets. I lower my head, respecting such a sacrifice. The Beast Howls... and I agree. It should be her. Instead... I turn, leaving Donna to sleep... and heading for Patricia. I stride by the Twins. Fear quickly and utterly crushes their surprised looks. I don't spare them a nod, moving towards the Hospital Room. I don't spare Patricia a look, simply moving towards her with purpose. Her mouth opens and she takes a step back. Rage glances over my eyes.... forced more by Honor than any Natural instinct. She wants to know if it is wrong to do such things to one you claim to love. Foolish; that is a question for those claiming moral superiority. I have no such arrogance. No need to lord my own moral code over everyone... sad habit most religious souls seems to enjoy. Grabbing one breast I drag her from the painfully bright area... And into the Dungeon. * * * * Ember Burn - Time Time is a precious commodity. Whether Bleeding the Edge in some corp Zero Zone or shaving black ice while trying to out deck otaku... all while streetsams and go-gangers sling lead... Time is important. Consider Patricia and her Visit. Aside from the Time I've touched her... she's been alone. I'm fairly sure she had Thoughts, and can easily retrieve them. And now the Twins prepare her for an unknown time span... where her only guarantee is pain. Pleasure is assumed... a foolish habit some possess... and cannot shake. I spend part of that time observing her. Hey and Yo move quickly and efficiently... even taking the time to let Patricia select her own outfit. Normally I'd examine this process. She'll pick something plain. A teddy perhaps. Or the standard leather straps placed to allow nipple and clit access. How boring. No style... just patterned tastes. I do take a Moment to laugh at Yo... who rolls her eyes at the final selection. Crotchless white lace body suit with spaghetti straps. See? The twins move to the door, standing silently. Patricia stands still for about two minutes, then starts examining the room. I'm actually quite proud of the Dungeon. In the far right corner sits the Alter to Darkness... the local Hardcase name for an area that's Classic Gothic BDSM. Jacob's Cross. Chains. The wall looks like it came directly from a musty old tomb some taffeta clad vamp sleeps in... and I even have a coffin for the truly disturbed. But the tech makes the place what it is. As Patricia walks around the horizontal rack I bring up the Universal Eyeball. I can monitor everything: heart rate, pulse, vital stats MIT&M docs would kill to get even in a Delta clinic. She lets her hands roam over the wood. Judging from the readings, she's in awe. The rest of the Dungeon is my own design. Some say it mirrors the den. Others think I have a doctor-nurse fetish, a line of thought stemming from the clean surfaces, the menacing chrome-black shine and the cool blues and grays that adorn the various instruments. And calling them torture devices seems... twisted. There are two walls that separated the Goth area from the rest, and next to one stands a weight machine. Nothing special... until you examine it closely. When she finally gets there it takes her three good looks to figure out the function. Straddling the center area, a small horse, activates it. The soft ping follows a gentle female voice. The instructions are simple and soon she's doing a mild work out and getting fragged by the smallest vibrator the device offers. She does one set of ten then stops, the machine whirring down quietly. Simple? Well... she was free to leave. Leg restraints can easily prevent that... and then there are the other settings she wasn't told. Like the one that frags her constantly... if she doesn't work out. The micro-horse sits on a rotating platform, ensuring that at least one simple change... from front to back lat pull-down... possesses a constant frag-session. No rest for the wicked, neh? Next comes the free weight bench... complete with weights. And, if you happen to examine the floor, hidden manacles. Padded, though the material can... and often does... carry a small electrical signal capable of overriding the impulses of the brain. Keeps the extremities immobile. Though, with even a bar on it, the thing goes inert. Won't have accidents like that. Last along the wall are the bikes. The open seats tell the tale there. Well... part of the tail. She doesn't see the concealed wheels that allow each machine to be easily moved. Corner... and one runs into a small end table and the lamp. Those always draw attention; they're designed by Nero's ex... the cheating slitch. A slender black pole runs nearly to the ceiling, where three arching limbs curve, each ending in parabolic black plumes. Capable of various lighting effects... including limited trideo projection... they cost a cool grand... if she's still alive. The table itself is rather barren. One lone ashtray... that never gets used. I don't have a no-smoking policy; the Visitors have silently agreed to keep the healthy atmosphere. Not all people are rotten slags. Next comes a sofa. Dark shimmering blue, the cushions are hand made. Couldn't tell... and that's wiz by me. The synthleather's coating makes easy cleanup. Only a few newbies actually H-line on it, and they're quickly and gently admonished. That's for sitting... or practicing spanking. The most... and least... obvious area is the sunken center. That's where Displays happen. Hammerstrike's work is exquisite; thirteen different ceiling arrangements. Chains. Spreader bars. Ropes. The floor houses several poles and a horse. Patricia makes her way around, her body only now beginning to react to the slight dip in room temperature. There's a wide area directly across from the entranceway. That's the Decorated Area, used for whatever and supplied by the Ammo Dump. That name is blamed on the Twins. Two doors... one leading to a dressing room designed by Morgana. Shoes galore, and enough outfits to make even the most jaded participant drool. Some of Sid's works are bid on from time to time, commanding large prices might I add. I make a note to have Deborah speak to Sid about throwing a fashion show after this mess in the CDZ is quiet. I open the door. The Twins move smoothly, giving Patricia some warning. I hear her rise, padding softly on the cool floor. I raise my right hand, palm towards her. She obeys quickly and properly... and I try not to vomit. "How long do you think you can last?" I ask. She looks towards the Gothic dungeon, her face trying to calculate the Time. "Not there; you're not ready." True... but not the only reason. She's not worthy. Petty... but I make the rules. Her confusion slides from my notice as I mentally instruct the Twins. Yo struggles to hold on to the brief contact, her arousal oozing into her muffled breathing. "How long?" "One hour... please." Time is a precious commodity. One hour is meaningless. The runners are going over their plans, checking their equipment... doubting themselves even as they salivate at the prospect of a big run. Donna will be up, though her Thoughts will be everywhere for quite some time. I will be here and Elsewhere... There are slave capable of eight... even ten hour stretches. Daylong stretches are not unheard of... though they take quite a toll on both Master and Slave. And she... wants an Hour. She could be preparing her husband a meal. Preparing for tomorrow. Something... anything. She chose to take this hour... to be tormented. Tortured. Sexually abused and humiliated. I let my eyes slide over her. Once again... Sheep. This is an experiment... for something she may or may not want from the man in her life. Or woman... it doesn't matter to me; she's not serious. This is a game to her. It takes me several moments to Remember... once everyone was at this Crossroads. Once. I stand here now, and I will not let anyone continue on blindly. Perhaps that is what many find so abrasive about me. So utterly ruthless and unemotional. True... yet I will not lie. I Show only the Truth and Facts and Logic. I leave my emotions out of things because it is best. She won't Understand. Time is precious... and this hour will not be wasted. The Twins return. Hey carries the rope, the same color blue as the cushions... with gray threads here and there. Yo carries a leather flogger and the ball gag. Patricia's eyes light up, then glaze with the appropriate fear. I don't even consider smiling as Hey binds her breasts. I take the whip as Yo passes, letting its weight hang in my right hand. In truth; I'm oblivious to it. To her. Only the Twins matter. Patricia whimpers. Hey slaps one tit viciously. Patricia jerks her eyes to me. That's when it hits her. For the next hour... she's a thing. She eyes the whip, but only briefly; she's enthralled by the look on my face. If it were the sneer of evil, that would comfort her. No; the look of indifference... the look that does not count her existence. She doesn't hear the ceiling open. When Yo puts the ball gag in, she fights. That's when I smile; the fear has finally reached her soul. And, for the briefest of Moments, she remembers the Time. One Hour. Ember Burn: The Curved Path Yo smoothly moves clear, the ball gag in place... when the whip falls loudly onto Patricia's right tit. She's too surprised to do more that eek. Before that is fully free from her lips I strike the other twice. She jumps back, only to have the Twins grab her arms. The chains are secured before she begins to struggle... and then she rises. This is when she tries to speak. This is when her eyes plead for audience. She manages to kick at Yo, but it's futile. Soon her legs are spread. Spread eagle and suspended... There is Time enough for her to think as the Twins move to the walls. They choose the clamps. Hey is a bit extreme; the teeth will definitely leave marks. Yo... goes for pain. I stand still, looking through Patricia When the clamps are applied, the twins return to their posts beside the door. Patricia seems to be waiting... so I turn and leave her there. "One hour." The Twins nod. I think Patricia muttered something. * * * * Ember Burn - Timing Time is a precious commodity. I watched Patricia those last two minutes, a smile pulling my lips skyward. Amazing... she actually considered **only** being tortured for an hour. Maybe some sex thrown in. This... so simple a thing as being strung up and ignored... never crossed her orderly corp-mind. I doubt she even noticed that the Twins remained motionless during her stay. My gaze fixes on her crotch. Not just her bare mound, but also the flesh that makes the border between belly and bush. The slight twitches greet me. Time to teach. "One hour. Congratulations." After I remove the ball-gag she tries to smile, the aches in her arms robbing the expression from her face. That's when I notice the one golden droplet falling. "I'm ready to..." "Silence. Seems you need to urinate." I hear Yo's silent footfalls as I continue. "Please wait. Oh... and I never said that your session here would end after one hour. Remember... you're here for three days, Patricia." Timing is everything. Yo places the metallic pan down right as Patricia's bladder overwhelms her sensibilities. She struggles to halt the flow, but the simple act of hanging up sapped her far more than she knew. I enjoy the tumultuous emotions that fill her face. Especially the one that signals her realization that she's horny. Then comes confusion... she follows the Pathway perfectly. Timing is everything. I hear a phone ring. One phone... and in the other end is one Soul. I do not think... merely act. * * * * "You had no reason to do that." "I wanted Ember, not you, Meanstreak." "I hear the catch in your voice. You Know." "Somehow... yeah." "I cannot go back." "Didn't really expect you to even try." "Then why have you called him." That, Morgana does not answer. * * * * Yo starts at the sound of the whip against Patricia's skin. Patricia is too startled to do much more than jerk. I don't use my Powers often... certainly not for Play. But this is different. Time is a strange thing. One Moment this was about Patricia. After the electronic jingle... Patricia opens her mouth to speak. I cut her off, striking the inside of her things with the leather strands. I vary strength and area. I don't let my face reveal the information... and the emotional responses. Each strike... each caress of flesh-on-flesh to soothe... is calculated. Evaluated. Practiced. I move around her, coldly tormenting her. Somewhere I hear her screams and cries. Somewhere I'm aware of Hey obeying the command, moving to place the ball gag in Patricia's mouth. I turn to Yo. She lifts her eyes from the whip, confusion melting away easily. I nod once. She places her hands behind her head, spreading her elbows. I hear Hey's breathing increase with longing... and mentally tell her to wait. Somewhere I am aware of how easy Hey accepts the commands... and Know Fear. I lash out, spinning so suddenly no one reacts... until after the explosive thwap as the whip falls over Hey's rear. Before she can yelp I flick the tips across one of Patricia's breasts. Yo is only know realizing she wasn't hit when I whirl the whip overhead, bringing it down once over each breasts. When the Twins finally react, moving away from the now-gone pain I concentrate on Patricia. It is only three minutes of constant whipping. Constant, practiced pain delivered with scientific cruelty. "Frag her until she passes out." We will speak later, Ladies. They bow deeply, waiting until I've exited the Dungeon. * * * * Deborah definitely didn't like my rush exodus. The parties were scheduled. Mika had things well in hand. All she had to really worry about was her over-eager funboy. "I'm sure teaching you how to properly train a slave can wait, Deborah. Besides... if this pans out... I may have a female teacher. Guys don't do a thing for me, chica." Donna on the other hand, didn't so much as flinch. "If things go well, I'll explain everything. On my Honor, Donna." "Don't. I..." I nodded." "Is Patricia still here?" "The Twins have her until she passes out. Do you want her?" "No... I just need to be alone..." "I understand. As per our Agreement?" "Call it a hiatus." "Back in a few, eh? Sounds familiar. "For what it's worth... I'm sorry." "That's why I'm leaving." I forced myself to banish the sad smile from my memory... and the Feeling of having hurt another. "This... is about her... the red head..." "Yes." "I hope someone will Love me like you love her." "Wanna Know a Secret?" fin