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