Secret Metamorphosis

Today's story is a solicited request. I asked someone if I could write them a story. Why? Because I'm arrogant. I saw someone say that they had a favorite erotica author. And it wasn't me. So I had to challenge myself to try to be this person's new favorite.

Then I found out that this person has just ended a long relationship and is a bit broken up by it. Which means I both want to become a new favorite AND provide the person with something that will make the break up a little easier to handle.

Did I manage? I don't know... time will tell. And speaking of telling...

Tell Me.

We both know you’re going to tell me eventually. Why resist it? Why put yourself through all that suffering needlessly?

Think about it. Think about where you already are. Your ass is filled with, quite honestly, the biggest butt plug I could find. Your jaw held open by a ball gag that, I’m sure, is already quite painful. You’re drooling down your forehead. If you look up, you can see it pooling on the floor already. And from the neck down you are wrapped in layer after layer of bondage tape. It’s like you’re in a big black cocoon. And you are.

You are a pupa. A larvae. You are no more than an insect right now, trapped and ready for

a metamorphosis. And you will have one. Stop looking at the puddle of drool. Look at me. Eyes on me.

There’s more blood in your head than normal. It’s all rushing up there so that you can really think about it. So that you can really experience this change. But all the blood in the world won’t change you unless you’re willing to change.

So I want you to think about it. In a little while, I’ll take out that gag. Your jaw will ache, I know. I’ll give you a minute or two to stretch it out before you have to speak. But once you can close your mouth again, once you can form words, you will tell me. You will tell me everything, without holding back even the slightest detail.

I’ll know if you’re lying. And if you lie to me, things will get worse for you. I will take away more than just your capacity to move. If you lie to me, that means you need more time to think. Time without distractions.

I can give you that, if that’s what you need. I can give you a space with no distractions whatsoever. I’ll lower you down and put you inside the box. We’ll put a tube in your mouth to make sure you don’t drown, and I’ll put in a nose plug so you won’t get any water up your nostrils. You’ll just float there, in the water, with nothing to distract you. I’ll take away your awareness of gravity, your sight, your hearing. You won’t smell anything, you won’t feel anything. Complete and total solitude. Absolute sensory deprivation. You won’t know how long you’re in there. You won’t be able to trust your senses, so you’ll have to learn to ignore them.

But you’ll have time to think. Time to really consider whether or not you should lie to me. We both know you shouldn’t. Do I really need to prove it to you?

And why should you lie? Why not just tell me? How much worse can it really be? How bad can your fantasies possibly be, how dark can your desires really get? After all we’ve done, after all we’re doing, why would you think for even a minute that you could disgust me so much that I would cut you from my life?

Think about it. Really think. I’ve slapped your face until my palm was clearly imprinted on it. That didn’t scare me away. I’ve dunked your head in an unflushed toilet while fucking you in the ass with a strap on. That didn’t scare me away either. I’ve left you in a cage for the night, shivering with only a collar around your neck and pads around your hands. That didn’t scare me off.

All the things we’ve done. All the things we’ve talked about doing. None of it scared me away. It didn’t scare me off when you begged me to whip you bloody with a belt. It didn’t bother me in the slightest when you told me that you wanted to wear women’s underwear in your daily life. I wasn’t upset when you said you wanted me to use you like a sex toy, to fuck you until I had an orgasm, then leave you there whether or not you were finished.

None of it bothered me. And more than that: I’ve enjoyed it all. Every suggestion you’ve made, everything we’ve done, I’ve loved it. I love your tongue against the leather of my pants. I love when I can beat you until you cry. There’s such purity there, in your tears. I love it all.

And do you know why I love it? Why I adore every moment of exquisite torture you let me put you through? I love it because it is only then, when you are at your most fragile, when your will is at its most shattered, that you can truly be who you are. It takes pain to purify you. It takes pain to grow. That’s why they call it growing pains.

You’re a bug right now. But you’ll tell me that secret. You’ll share that darkest desire. I know you will. You'll give me the truth of you, that inner spark, that secret of secrets. You'll tell me that desire that you think will run me off, that you think will disgust me to the point that I will never be able to even look you in the eyes again.

You'll tell me, you will.

And then you'll see the truth. You'll se that there was no reason for you to keep it hidden. You'll see that keeping it a secret did nothing but prevent us both from pleasure. You'll see that the only reason you haven't already lived this fantasy is that you were too scared to share it with me.

And you'll see that there was no reason to be afraid. You'll see that it's okay, that it doesn't matter, and it never did.

Oh, I know what you're thinking. I know you're thinking that I might be wrong. Even after everything, you still think that this time, it'll be too far. Never mind that you thought it would be too far to lick my boots clean, and it wasn't. Never mind that you thought it would be too far to ask me to carve my name into your skin with a needle, and it wasn't. And it wasn't too far when I put you over my knee and spanked you until you cried. It wasn't too far when I first made you my bitch. It's never been too far.

But what if it's too far now? What if this one, this one time, finally crosses the line?

Stop and think. Think about all the things we've done and all the fantasies we've lived out. I've never walked away, and I never will. No matter how bad you might think it is, you're not getting rid of me that easily.

So really think about it. Even if this secret of yours is so bad that it would beyond even my limits, that won't change anything. The only difference between now and after you tell me this secret would be that I know the secret. That you had been honest. Worst case scenario, you tell me and then I know. Best case, you tell me and we make your fantasy a reality. Again.

Don't get be wrong. You will suffer for this, for whatever your secret may be. Your secret is an impurity, a stain on your soul and on your conscience. You are dirty, filthy, and you need to be clean. You're larvae, and insect, and you need to suffer if you're going to grow.

When you tell me, I'll get started. I will give you such exquisite agony as you have ever experienced. I will ignite your nerves, drown you in endorphins, and torture you with infinite tenderness. It is only through suffering that you can grow out of the cocoon we have built for you. Only with truth, and with pain, can you become a man.

You don't want to stay an insect. It's time to evolve, time to be more.

But to be more, you have to tell me.

I'm going to take the gag out now. Stretch out your jaw, take a deep breath. Find your voice.

Tell me your secret. You can whisper it if you need to. Save your voice. You might need it.

Because in just a little while... you're going to be screaming.