Now, about sub space... Some people claim that sub space is a myth. Others say it's dangerous, that the sub loses control, loses understanding.
The truth is somewhere in between. Sub space is just a descriptor for being really high on endorphins. It feels like a whole different world, a whole different place. But it's the same. You're just high.
And you don't need pain to get there. (Good news for those who aren't masochists). All you need is a bit of sensation. Which is what today's story is about.
Just one more
Katy blinked, but it didn't help. Looking up or down didn't help. The blindfold was tight, the padding pressed against her eyes. She moved, but the suspension kept her from being able to tell anything more than up or down.
“Comfy?”
His voice was the only thing she'd heard in what seemed like hours. She tried to respond, but all that came out was a grunt.
She moaned into the gag when he pressed the vibrator against her. Then she groaned when she felt the tape against her leg. He stepped away, but the vibration didn't stop.
“You know the deal,” he said. “Something goes wrong, you just open your hand.” She felt his fingers slide up her leg and over her stomach. “Time to get started.”
He pressed something up over her ears, and all she could hear was the gentle static of white noise.
Then he rubbed something under her nose, and all she could smell was mint.
Nothing to see. No sound. No smell. She could have been hanging a few inches or a few yards up off the ground. She could struggle, but there was nothing to struggle against; the ropes didn't restrict movement, and thrashing around didn't get her anywhere.
The only thing was that buzzing. That constant hum of vibration just barely on the edge of her clit. Not enough to push her over into an orgasm, but too much to ignore.
Then his finger began to rub circles around her right nipple. Just a slow revolution, sliding around, the rough callous of his finger catching on the soft skin of her nipple. He didn't press down, didn't speed up. Like the vibration between her legs, it was just a slow, constant movement. Just a sensation, one that was just on the edge of her attention.
She whimpered into her gag was he ran his finger, gently and slowly, in circles, round and round. He was achingly consistent in his movements, never changing the direction, never getting any rougher, never moving any faster.
Katy wriggled around, kicked out, thrashed her hands back and forth. His finger never slowed, never stopped, never sped up. Just a continued gentle movement.
Soon, his finger felt like sandpaper. It felt like he was carving away at her skin, moving slowly around and around, around and around. And between her legs, a soft, gentle vibration with a consistency only a machine can provide.
She was so close. It would take so little to push her over the edge. Just a bit more; move the vibrator up a little higher, turn the power up a little more. Just a little bit.
But nothing changed.
She couldn't tell which way was up anymore. Nothing mattered except the little vibration between her legs and the gentle finger running circles around and around.
Her whole world focused down to those two bits of sensation. The finger and the vibrator.
She whimpered. She cried. She thrashed. Nothing changed.
His finger stopped, and she nearly screamed from the sudden shift.
Then he started again. Moving at the same speed, but in the other direction. It was like a cheese grater on her skin. But it felt good. Only it hurt. And felt good. But painful. But good.
The he pinched. It was just one pinch, not very hard. Her left nipple, one sharp pinch, so quick that she barely noticed it. The pain didn't register, she didn't pull away.
She didn't have to. The pinch was all it took. She groaned, and an orgasm slid through her body. It wasn't a huge rush of pleasure, wasn't a crashing tidal wave. It was a gentle orgasm, a calm movement of joy, a soft moan into a gag.
She felt dizzy, but in a good way. High. Her mind was wandering, wavering, sliding away from her. Images flashed in her mind, strange thoughts and fantasies that Katy would never admit to, would never have guessed that she even wanted.
He turned up the vibrator taped to her leg. The sudden increase in speed slammed another orgasm into her body. This one tore through her, ripping her in half, shattering her into tiny pieces, shards that melted from the heat of her sex, that formed her into a puddle, that drew back together.
Back to focus on one thing. One feeling.
She moaned into the gag again, let her head fall back, and didn't care which was way up. She didn't care that she couldn't see, that mint was all that she could smell. She moaned, twitched, and felt another orgasm building. It was heavy, but slow. Her body went crystal clear, smooth like the ocean as a tidal wave begins to build, that tiny ripple along the surface that gets bigger and bigger.
Katy screamed into her gag until she had no air, until she was light headed, until she could barely remember her own name. She screamed as the ripple spread, as it grew. It gathered steam, gathered power, and it washed over her, gushed out of her. Drowned her in a sea of pleasure. She felt herself twitching, her muscles spasming. Her nerves burned, her skin as sensitive and fresh as it had ever been. She could feel each hair on her head, each fiber of her being. She focused on what she could, though her mind flitted away, dancing between ideas at once beautiful and disgusting. She thought of the most depraved acts, things that there aren't even words for, and she jumped from one to the next before she could even register the thoughts, before she knew what they were or what it all meant.
Her muscles taught, the pleasure pulled her apart, sent her mind spinning into the ether, made her one with the universe. She was gone, her mind completely empty, all memory of her life erased.
It was as if she'd never come back, as if she'd never find Katy again. And that didn't bother her. Why should it? Who was Katy? What was Katy? Why did Katy matter?
She moaned, purred softly, let herself just feel, just experience. Just be.
The orgasm played with her perception, moved her through the world and out, projecting her soul to places it had never imagined. She was gone, lost forever.
Except.
Lost forever except for one thing. One sensation. One anchor that pulled her back to her body, that brought her mind back into focus, that brought her back to the world she had left behind, to the life she used to live.
One sensation that brought her back to Katy, that kept her in, that kept Katy herself. One sensation that kept yanking her back, that tossed her around like a rag doll, that pushed her into the tide of orgasm again and again.
One sensation she couldn't ignore. One feeling that just kept cutting through.
She focused, trying to find it, trying to identify it.
And there it was. One sensation.
One finger.
Circling. Slowly. Around her nipple. One finger. Calloused but gentle, slow but constant, soft but firm. One finger, one sensation.
One thing that tied her to the world, no matter how much her mind tried to float free, no matter how deep she sank. One anchor that held her there.
One sensation, excruciating and lovely.
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