Destined to Play, Feel, Fly Trilogy (66 page)

On her knees she bends her body over the raised platform, her buttocks protruding with her head lowered. She must connect her nipple rings to the attachments on the board and rest her arms by her body awaiting her master’s arrival. Sometimes he pins her arms behind her back, connecting her wrists together, other times he stretches her arms out in front, locking them beyond her head. Occasionally he leaves her arms free. Every time, however, the nipple rings control her movements more effectively than any other restraint, ensuring her stillness and his ultimate control over her body. He has explained to her that this simple act, by trapping the most feminine part of her body, offers her the best hope of eliminating any potential witchcraft possessing her. The difference between maintaining this position with the precision he expects is the difference between a punishing beating and a rewarding orgasm, either way she is left utterly spent when he leaves.

‘My pet, it is time to prepare you for penetration. To accommodate man and, once and for all, to force out the devil.’

Attached to the board, he massages her buttocks with lard, taking his time to ensure she is well lubricated before any penetration occurs. He slides his fingers along her crack before tracing circles around her anus. Her breath freezes on entry until her rectum adjusts to the plug being inserted, which settles within her.

‘Keep breathing, my pet.’ His large hand firms over her lower back.

She is always conscious not to wriggle or move. Each rise and fall of her chest has the potential to either stimulate her nipples, or cause instant shooting pain should she jerk too hard, and it takes all her concentration to ensure it’s the former sensation she has to deal with.

Once the discomfort from the plug has subsided, although it remains firmly lodged within her, the sting of the belt hits her buttocks. Always ten strokes, five on each cheek, unless something is not to his liking, then it can be any number more. This pain she learns to manage. Her main concern is managing to keep her chest steady on the board with each blow, which provides a small distraction from the blow itself.

The best and worst part of this exercise, after the punishment for her sins has been delivered, are his questing fingers that have become expert at playing with and teasing her inner folds. She is deeply ashamed of the anticipation and arousal she feels when she longs for his touch and cannot understand how her body can experience such pleasure after the pain that has been inflicted. He has complete control of her orgasms
that can either be small, releasing a few mild pants or cause great shuddering, uncontrollable spasms and reverberating screams of euphoria around her cell.

Strangely for one so committed to routine, there is never any regularity or rhythm as to how long he takes, so she can never control her breathing enough to manage her trapped body. She both fears and longs for the feelings of ecstasy he causes that allow her to escape momentarily from this earthly world.

Every few days Lyon appears in her cell to bathe her and tend to any wounds on her body. He brushes her long hair and scrubs and trims her nails. It is his job to ensure she is clean and acceptable to her master. He does a thorough job of looking after her and though he has never spoken again of her being a woman of the heart, she senses the kindness in his touch.

Her master, while able to elicit almost unbearable pleasure and pain over her body with his clever fingers, never penetrates her vagina and is delighted when her anus is ready to accommodate his manhood.

‘My pet, congratulations on your progress. You are finally ready.’ Caitlin’s breathing quickens as she realises what is going to happen. She is stunned when she receives no lashes on this day. His mastery over her body ensures she reaches a shattering orgasm before she feels his penis penetrate her from behind. Her master’s fastidious preparation makes her first experience of sodomy more pleasurable than Caitlin would have ever believed possible and he gifts her with multiple orgasms, leaving her absolutely exhausted.
That night she receives a banquet almost fit for a queen and she has an appetite to match the volume of food delivered into her cell. Just as he controls every aspect of her physical being, she senses her spirit completely surrender to her master, allowing herself the luxury of forgetting the world she had once known.

Her master tells her that he has sent a message of gratitude to the old priest for suggesting she be marked. He proclaims the nipple rings have provided the key to the successful submission of her witchcraft, enabling her to live a more pure life and recommends their use for other offenders under the influence of the devil. He believes that surely this triumph is a clear sign from god that he did the right thing by saving his pet’s life and is grateful he did so. For reasons undisclosed to Caitlin, he now believes he can move on with his own life.

I’m drawn away from the scene and I’m left with thoughts and emotions swirling around my psyche. For the first time in my life, I have to consider that this is where my secret fantasy stems from, rather than some psychological deficiency leading to masochistic tendencies. The intense feelings of being bound, blind, punished and pleasured that have haunted me my entire life, but never made any logical sense, have just been played out in front of me. Feelings I have felt personally, that I know mirrored Caitlin’s. A sexual
fantasy I shared with Jeremy very briefly years ago that formed the basis of my thesis have just been replayed, relived by me.

Caitlin’s fear was my fear, her shame my shame. The shame of desiring something that seems so evil and wrong, but wanting it so much because the sheer pleasure of submitting to it was undeniable. Sexually awakening my body, awakening the feelings that lay dormant for so many years, has brought me to understand that my carnal needs derive from a space and time inextricably linked to my ancestry. My feelings and desires were ignited by arousal and sexual acts that stem from centuries ago. I can’t help but wonder how much more we have to learn about our psyche, how much more we have yet to tap into. After all my years of psychological study and experience, never before would I have considered this to be a potentially viable explanation for sexual preferences. Yet, I’ve just witnessed the very source of my tendencies, my arousal. Sexual acts that challenge my personal boundaries, yet excite me beyond belief.

I could feel the confusion in Caitlin’s feelings, the turmoil of never wanting to give up on her mother and her own destiny; almost craving the physical pain of the beatings to subdue the emotional pain and anguish in her heart. All the while, her body reacted against the absolute intrusion into her secret orifices yet greedily accepted the orgasmic highs, just as I have found myself in similar situations throughout my life. Jeremy awakened me to anal pleasures in my youth, though
I desperately wanted to avoid it from fear of the unknown pain. He re-awakened my sexual being when I had believed I was past my use-by date, allowing me to explore the dark fantasies of my mind, never judging, though gently coercing, yet always right by my side. I understand intimately what Caitlin was going through, how she was desperately trying to maintain control in an environment in which she had none.

This irreconcilable fantasy of mine, that I have to admit was a major impetus in my studying psychology in the first place and was a direct influence on my thesis, appears to be a fragment from a past life. One that Jeremy recreated during our weekend together, which has led me to experience a sequence of events I would never have believed possible.

I could have sworn my own nipples were being pierced as Caitlin’s were, feeling the searing pain as it happened and then the erotic aftershocks she was determined to bury and ignore. The tips of my own breasts still feel swollen, aroused and tingle with the memory. Even though my physical body is weak, my mind has never been sharper. It’s as though the insights I’m receiving are being processed at higher levels in my brain.

The vision of Caitlin in her cell is no different to how the image has played around in my dreams for years, albeit in a different time or century. A shameful fantasy that has haunted me since adolescence, preyed on my mind, teased me to attempt, to understand. I was never brave enough. In all my studies, my prescribed theories,
never once did I consider that these raw emotions and feelings might derive from a real time and place.

I’m shocked at this discovery, but desperate to understand Caitlin’s destiny and how it may link further to my own. I send myself back into the ether with these thoughts swirling around my brain.

One day, her master appears in her cell without sounding the bell, something that has never happened before.

‘Turn around and face the wall.’ She hears his booming voice as he enters. Caitlin has not seen her master’s face since the day at the monastery. She quickly follows his instructions as she has been trained to do, lest he should immediately pull out his belt. He places the hood over her head before addressing her in an abrupt tone.

‘I am to be married so you will be moving to the forest. Lyon will take you. Listen carefully to my rules, as they are not to be broken. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, master.’ Caitlin’s voice reflects the shock she was feeling.

‘You will not leave the forest.

‘You will not remove your nipple rings.

‘You will wear your chains and chastity belt on the night of the full moon.

‘I will attend to your punishments to keep your witchcraft at bay once a week. Lyon will prepare you.

‘You are forbidden to speak to anyone other than myself or Lyon.

‘Should you disobey any of my rules you will be tried as a witch. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, master.’

‘Whom do you belong to pet?’

‘You, master.’

‘What part of you?’

‘All of me, master.’

‘Never forget it.’ He slaps Caitlin’s buttocks to reinforce his point and binds her wrists in front of her.

‘Lyon, get in here. She’s ready to go.’

Lyon takes Caitlin to a small cottage deep in the woods on her master’s vast estate, where she will have no contact with society. As outlined, her master punishes and pleasures her once a week, to ensure her witchcraft never sets in. Lyon continues to take responsibility for Caitlin’s ongoing wellbeing, given they are the only two people who know of her existence. He ensures she is bound and blind for her master’s weekly visit and most importantly that she is hooded, fully bound and chained within the tiny house with her chastity belt firmly fixed to prevent her sinful fingers, every night of the full moon, when she is of greatest risk to herself and others.

Caitlin, having believed she would never escape either the dormitory or the basement that confined
her, can’t believe her good fortune at these new arrangements and is deeply grateful to Lyon for having organised it with the master. After years of death and darkness looming over her, she rejoices in the solitude of the forest. As long as she obeys the rules, she has more freedom than she has experienced since the death of her mother.

Instead of feeling violated by the ongoing constraints in her life, she counts her blessings that there is hope where there used to be none. She understands that it has taken Lyon many months to sway her master to make these arrangements, to give her a life outside the cell and reconnect her with nature and she is deeply grateful to him. Other than Lyon, she still longs to look into the eyes of another human soul and Lyon assures her that he is working toward making that a possibility.

One day Caitlin is embracing the feel of the sunshine on her deprived skin, humming as she plants a small garden near the cottage, when she hears a rustling in the bushes. She stills.

‘Hello,’ a voice calls, ‘is anyone there? I heard you singing so I’m hoping you can hear me.’

Caitlin runs back to her cottage, fearing for her safety. Though she secretly longs for human interaction, she knows it is forbidden. Hearing heavy footsteps running toward her, she speeds up, almost making it to the cottage to close the door behind her but she trips on her long skirts and topples over, knocking her head against a rock.

As she opens her eyes, she feels the softness of her bed beneath her and turns to see a tall man standing in the tiny cottage, drinking from his flask and staring directly back into her eyes.

Her heart stops beating for a long moment as their eyes connect with one another. She can sense this man’s good nature along with a restlessness and lack of control. She also knows that her nipples have instantly hardened at the sight of his tousled dark hair, mischievous green eyes and cheeky grin.

‘My name is John. I brought you in here when you hit your head.’

Not wanting to break any rules lest she be punished, she remains resolutely silent.

He had been appraising this beauty singing in the forest for well on an hour. Her long dark hair is braided in parts and looks as wild as the forest in others. Her lithe limbs and curvaceous body ooze sensuality and he was immediately drawn to her, almost dangerously so. As he carried her inside he had opportunity to feel her soft warmth against his own growing erection. After he carefully laid her on the bed, he stepped away, able to absorb her beauty as she rested. He noticed the outline of the rings connected to her nipples and was initially taken aback. Who is this woman? He has been with many women and has only encountered this once on his travels, though he didn’t get close enough to touch.

They maintain their steady gaze in silence, his arousal strengthening as he notices her nipples swelling beneath her blouse.

This man captivates Caitlin, it’s as though he has the power to put her under a spell, not the other way around. She has never experienced such feelings and her breath quickens as he takes a step closer, as if he is being magnetically drawn to her. She watches intently as he kneels beside the bed, his eyes reflecting her own soul as if they have met before. She senses she is privy to a secret and unexpected homecoming, as the beat of their hearts regulate their breath to each other’s tempo. Their longing for each other is undeniable as the atmosphere intensifies between them, their limbic systems in overdrive trying to accommodate the raw sexual energy they are experiencing but not understanding how or why this is happening. Just simply knowing their union is meant to be.