I’ll lay on my stomach
So you can’t see my face
So you can’t reach my stomach
I’ll lay on my stomach
So you can’t touch my chest
So you don’t have a chance
I’ll lay on my stomach
So you won’t see inside.
I’ll lay on my stomach
So you can’t see my face
So you can’t reach my stomach
I’ll lay on my stomach
So you can’t touch my chest
So you don’t have a chance
I’ll lay on my stomach
So you won’t see inside.
She grips his hips
and licks her lips
and tells him that she likes it on her hands and knees.
He’s warm within,
Alive and on fire.
This woman is his sister.
A mix of dreams, thoughts and feelings, pooling together in a vat like some sort of candy concoction and I’m Willy Wonka.
Metaphor? Nonsense? Desires from the deep?
In his work The Interpretation of Dreams, Freud mentions ‘the dream is the liberation of the spirit from the pressure of external nature, a detachment of the soul from the fetters of matter’.
I won’t deny I have a high sex drive and some dreams are merely subconscious thoughts, fragmented and pieced together. But if the answer is merely I’m a sexual creature and that is all, I am disappointed.
Is it that simplistic?
I guess the reason I’m bringing this all up is because I want to talk about the things we’re scared about.
Do you ever have a thought – maybe in your waking life, maybe in your dreams, that is so unlike you? It’s piercing and potent and powerful and it sucker punches you right in the gut?
I do. And I have half an answer why.
I’ve always had an overactive imagination. Anyone that knows me well can tell you about the dreams I recount, the stories I pitch, my weird humour.
I’m not unsatisfied in my life. Quite the contrary. I’m right where I want to be for the first time in my adult life. So it can’t be that.
Have we, as humans, as people into D/s and BDSM opened a door in our minds that connects back to the core – our primal, animalistic selves? And what does that even mean?
I will say that sometimes I feel guilty. With the stories I write, the women I mistreat, all sacrificed to some bloody beast at the centre of myself, demanding flesh and sweat and other bodily fluids.
But that being said, those stories and this blog are some part of me. And rather than turn a blind eye, I write them down. Because at the end of the day, Writing fantasy, erotica or otherwise, is a hobby of mine. And exploring the depths of my own mind is an interest to me.
I do remember a reader writing in to tell me the intensity of a story shocked her in how it made her aroused by it – for reasons she struggled to put into words.
So maybe I’m just psychotic? I don’t know. I’d feel like I would know when things become too dark.
But I’m getting side tracked. I’m thinking out loud.
Imagination is a powerful tool. The mind is a powerful tool. Within it, are all sorts of memories, fantasies, thoughts and feelings. How some thoughts form, how dreams are patched together, by a thought or a memory or a sensation, can’t be helped.
So we should not react too heavily or get our heads turned by a nonsense dream. Let it wash over you and live out your day.
Underwear. We have it. We like it. We wear it. It looks good, can feel good, can boost anything from morale to happiness.
But man. Man oh man oh man oh man is it a pain sometimes!
Like, it’s not a sizing issue. I’m pretty good at finding comfort in anything I wear. But sometimes I just don’t want to wear it.
Does that tie into a primal aspect within me? Some bohemian part of me handed down from my ancestors? Who knows.
I mean, I am primal. I am naked 90% of the time, to the point where I’m happy my fences around my house is taller than my 6 ft so I can wander naked.
But when it comes to going out to dinner for a birthday, or to the Cinema – sometimes I just don’t want to wear underwear. And sometimes I come to this fact later rather then sooner.
It can be restricting, you know? I can adjust myself at the table and I can feel it, and instantly I want to free. Not just of my underwear but of all my clothing.
I don’t know if it’s linked to my primal state of mind, but there you are.
To be honest with you all, I don’t know how I ever found anyone in the lifestyle with whom I could make a connection or learn through.
I was diagnosed with panic disorder in 2013 but looking back through my life, anxiety has been like a shadow through most of my life.
That’s not to say it can’t be controlled or contained – it can. You can lead a normal life with an anxiety disorder, it just takes discipline and concentration. Even dieting.
But, as informative and courageous I may seem in my posts, even I struggle to accept my word and even I can be reduced to nothing on my deepest darkest days.
And not everyone can understand or accept, which is the most heartbreaking thing when you’re trying to meet new people or gain friends or whatever the case may be.
Because the mind never stops — ‘Should you post this picture? Should you send another email explaining your fears? What if said scares them away? What if they saw my photo and just lost the interest? What if you’re too young / too old? What if they just don’t want to put up with you? What if you’re just a phase to them? And the honeymoon period is over?
And the thought leads to a magnitude of sub-thoughts, each one with varying levels of intensity. Sometimes it escalates to a terrifying crescendo, sometimes it dies down with your own strength and management.
The bottom line is – its terrifying. You’re unsure of what thought is right and what thought is wrong. It’s hard to trust anyone because you’re not quite sure, even when you convince yourself to talk to them about it and even the thought of applying that to multiple friendships, even a quest for love, it’s tricky.
It’s constant worry – about personal relationships, about the future, about a horror film – it could be anything that’s close to your heart. And you want to know the most terrifying thing? Anxiety can lead you to false thoughts and convince you that it’s absolute truth. You are convinced by your own bullshit, to the point where you’re ready to throw your whole life away on a thought that just came to you in a fight or flight response.
The good news is that you can live a healthy and productive life. Yes, even as a Dominant in charge. Even as a submissive with tasks and orders.
Something that I have found is useful is to be open in my communication to the people around me. My openness has mostly been met with niceness, with the occasional person who – politely or otherwise – announce they cannot handle that ‘drama’.
It’s really hard to do, because it will feel like you are betting everything on the line. But in my opinion, these are just crossroads in life that you need to gamble on if you want to find a conclusive answer.
What you do have – is time. Try not to give in to that rush of immediacy that might coarse through your veins – take your time to feel comfortable before you make a decision. Let the fog clear.
Beyond time, you have patience. The patience to see it through, to see the fog clear and clear your mind.
Do not be ashamed to lean upon any medication. I would advise to find other means before doing so – as meditation and exercise CAN ease your mind. Also, I would advise a psychologist or doctor before making a jump to medication, as that’s a big step.
But it’s not a step that is worth anguish. I, personally, need medication to help that chemical imbalance in my mind. At least for the foreseeable future. I’ve had people judge me for it, doctor’s frown at me for it, but it’s a decision that I’ve had to make.
Don’t let it wash over you. Take each step as it comes. Live in the moment. Breathe in the moment. The people that are worth your time will stay by you, and the people that don’t, will leave stage right.
Due to the length of this chapter, I decided to break it up into two seperate posts so it is easier to track and read.
Eira struck the match and lit the candle on the table before her.
With the match still burning, she moved the flame to the candle just opposite to the right of lit candle.
Four candles sat in the shape of a square on this wooden table, their small flame helping the light of dawn engulf the room.
In the centre of the square shape rested the Valknut, the symbol representing Odin and his bond to the Valkyries.
Eira, completely nude, save for the collar gifted to her after the completion of her training, knelt to her knees and begin to recite her morning mantra.
Outside of Valhalla, resting on the verge of the Fensalir forest was a natural spring formation.
This was a place sacred to the Valkyries, gifted to them by the All-Father.
The spring was primarily used for bathing but the site also allows for recreation for Valkyries – a place for rest and rebirth.
If one were to stand in the crystal blue water and look out, trying to spot the hall of Valhalla, all they would see would be the enormous lush-green trees, shielding all view of the outside world.
Running in a circle around the spring, built neatly into the rock formation, was a wooden walkway, made of the very trees that guarded the place and acting as grip to guard the Valkyrie that stepped out of the spring.
Eire emerged from the trees into the area hidden from view. Ahead of her, emerged at the other end of the spring, were three Valkyries talking softly.
At the sight of Eira, Herja raised a hand out of the water and waved at Eira, flashing her smile. On either side of her was Elisabet, a slender and tanned Valkyrie with long black hair and intense dark eyes, and Göll, golden eyes, blonde hair and perky breasts, who whistled at the sight of a nude Eira stepping into the spring.
Eira planted herself down on the smooth rock formation that acted as a bench. In a moment she would begin to wash her body, but for the moment she wanted to take her time to soak up the pleasing water.
The combination of cool water on her skin and the warm morning sun beating down upon her energised her.
She began to think of Ryan, interfering with that man who stabbed him. Eira had watched from the sidelines, invisible to all, ready to fulfil her assignment.
Now that she brought Ryan to Asgard, as his guide for the time being, she didn’t know what to do. With the others, she knew. She knew exactly how to behave, what was required of her. Ryan was different somehow, he was kind and polite and reserved.
It was his personality that took her aback. He wasn’t demanding for any kind of sexual release – he was gentle.
The word ‘gentle’ brought to mind the way he smacked her the other night. Fighting off a smile, she could, all of a sudden, feel the delightful sting on her skin.
Eira had been smacked before, by Mist, her teacher, by Kára for a fault in her training, by warriors she was assigned to. But there was something about the energy behind Ryan when he struck her. There was rage, there was anguish, there was something she couldn’t quite understand.
All this and yet he was reserved.
Reserved, thought Eira. I can recall feeling that somehow. How did I overcome it?
He needs time, a part of Eira began, voicing its way to the forefront of her mind.
When Eira heard the rustling of the trees next to her, she turned to see Kára emerge, herself completely nude and glistening in the sunlight.
Kára did not wave to anybody, nor did she greet Eira. Instead, she silently dived into the middle of the spring and dunked her head under.
Eira watched the area where she dived; the nude shape of Kára swam underneath, the image rippling along with the water.
The image of her stopped and began to swim up, breaking the water and emerging into the warm sun.
Eira glanced at Kára as she moved towards the side of the spring, a few metres away from her.
Kára lay back in the spring. Her dark entangled hair lay out across the shape of her breasts.
She was a beautiful woman, Eira thought, stormy, gruff – but beautiful.
Feeling Eira’s gaze, Kára opened her eyes and looked up at her.
“I can feel you looking at me, little sister. Is there something on your mind?”
Unwilling to incite Kára’s gruff attitude, Eira shook her head. “It’s nothing.”
She rested her head against the smooth rock and looked up at the sky.
The thought of Ryan came into her head then, and she wondered….
As Eira pondered, Ryan came to.
As his eyes adjusted to the light, he climbed out of bed.
There was no visit from his mother, he thought as he pulled on a fresh pair of clothes, so what was happening when he saw her that one time? Was he going mad?
He sat on the bed a few moments, his eyes and mind adjusting to the stillness of the room, with the light of dawn filtering in through the balcony, and then he got out of bed.
As he exited the door, he bumped right into someone, connecting his chest with his or her elbow.
“I am so sorry.” Ryan began. “I didn’t see you there..”
“It’s okay” came a soft voice.
The Valkyrie twisted her elbow back and forth with a laugh.
Ryan went to speak but stopped – he recognised her as the Valkyrie that told Kára to hush when she scoffed at Eira masturbating in the great hall.
The Valkyrie looked back at Ryan with her dark violet eyes and smiled.
“Have I seen you before?” she asked, brushing her raven black hair behind her ear.
“No, I don’t believe so. I’m Ryan.”
“Yeah. Is it that noticeable?”
“Some have a glow to them, it is known.” The Valkyrie replied. “My name is Ástríðr – but everyone calls me Astrid. I am something of a medic here in Valhalla. Speaking of, has someone established a psychological profile of you?”
Astrid spoke really fast and without a breath, barely hesitating to pause between words.
Ryan frowned. “Uh…No?”
Astrid grabbed him – rather roughly – by the hand and pulled him back into his chambers.
Ryan’s arm twisted, his neck craned – and he was back in his room again only moments after leaving.
“Forgive my actions, Sir.” Astrid said in another jumble of words. “Punish me later if you must, but I wanted to ask. How have you been sleeping?”
Ryan gave the question a thought.
“Fine, I guess?”
“No broken sleep?”
“I’ve been sleeping okay-ish.”
“Is Okay good?”
Astrid stood really close to him, her violet eyes scattering back and forth as she peered into his.
“Any hallucinations? Auditory? Visual? Tactile?”
We haven’t seen you in so long, son.
Ryan looked in the corner of the room. Astrid caught the glance and looked behind her briefly, then back to Ryan’s eyes.
“Is that a hint? Can you talk? Are you seeing something now?”
Ryan cleared his throat, covering his mouth. Astrid was really close to him. Nude and really close to him. Her hand was still on his.
“I’m sorry, what is this about?”
Astrid looked down at his hand, then looked back at him with an embarrassed laugh. It came out in a husky wheeze.
“Being the one assigned to such a role as the medical officer – “
“Aren’t you all Immortal magical beings?”
“We can be injured, Ryan. We can die.”
Astrid’s face took on a stern look.
“We like to eat too. But regardless, my job is to look for a schism in newcomers.”
“Some souls remember their deaths and accept, some have trouble accepting but eventually move on, some minds see this – a life beyond Midgard – and simply disconnect. Falter.”
Ryan looked at Astrid as she spoke breathlessly.
We haven’t seen you in so long, son.
“Usually it’s because the mind is in two different places and – overwhelmed, it…folds in on itself. Are you folding in on yourself, Ryan?”
Astrid kept her gaze on Ryan, looking at him intently.
“I….saw and heard my mother?”
He couldn’t believe he was mentioning this to a stranger, but it just tumbled out of his mouth.
“In the corner?” Astrid asked, tilting her head in the direction of the corner behind her while still looking at Ryan.
In turn, Ryan nodded.
“Hm. Have you seen or heard her – or anything – again?”
Astrid clicked her tongue as she thought, her eyes moving away from Ryan and focusing off to the wall beside him.
“That could be anything – a dream, your mind adjusting. That’s a typical side effect. It can take anywhere from a week to a month for a mind to adjust.”
Astrid sighed. “It’s when it happens on a frequent basis that it becomes a problem.”
“What happens to those that have this schism?”
“Hmm. If they can’t overcome it? Comatose. Beyond that, a second death.”
A second death? Is that even….where does one go when a second death occurs?
“In any case, keep me posted. I have to see to others now, excuse me.”
Astrid let go of Ryan, gently patted the spot where she gripped his wrists and moved to the door to exit.
As she did so, the door opened, revealing Eira standing in the doorway, her hair damp.
“Eira!” Astrid proclaimed, bowing.
“Astrid. I’ve been meaning to bring Ryan by for his psychological evaluation.”
“Hmm. We bumped into each other just now and we had a chat. His strength is good, he’s coherent but he’s keeping me posted on that, excuse me.”
Astrid squeezed past Eira and disappeared from view.
Eira closed the door behind her gently and turned to Ryan.
“Mm.” Replied Eira, walking over to Ryan. “Are you feeling okay?”
Ryan nodded. That was the truth of it. He was okay, all things considered. The sight of his mother, hearing her voice again, shook him deeply to the point that every time his mind brought it back up, it was like somebody had stabbed a knife in his gut and was leaving it there to twist later. But the sights and sounds around him distracted him. That was the best he could do for now, be distracted.
Eira extended a hand and placed it on his shoulder. “Come, let us have breakfast together.”
To be continued…
I have been sitting here trying to think of a way to open this little article but I’ve got nothing. Talking about mental illness, let alone addressing what it’s like to live with something like depression and anxiety is hard to convey just how destabilising it is.
A question I sometimes get from people who suffer from depression or anxiety is – Can I live a normal life in this BDSM Lifestyle? It’s one that always manages to hit close to home because in a heartbeat, I’m right back to my own panic, wondering the same thing, wondering if I’m broken or if I should just let my lady go because someone else can take care of her better than I could.
The answer to the question is: Of course you can have a normal life. It will be tough, it may be laced with paranoia but through a little bit of willpower, sunshine and determination, you can find you will have more of those better days than the ones spent crawling through the swamps.
A key aspect of this is communication. Not everyone understands anxiety and will find it alarming. For me – and I realise this doesn’t work for all – but there was a time where it really alarmed my girlfriend. I would explain what I needed from her in my downer times, I explained that anxiety is so powerful it is capable of convincing you of a bullshit thought.
In time, she came to understand, even relate. In time, we had a system worked out that made our relationship stronger.
A second key aspect of this is trust. This one is important because it’s like solving a complex mathematical equation. You’re going to be worried about the initial opening up – and that’s healthy to an extent. Take your time. You will know when you feel like taking that second step in trusting someone because the clear-skies part of your mind will want to act but the other part will want to freeze and find another twenty reasons why it’s a bad idea.
Yes, it will leave you exposed. That’s the tricky thing about trust, you have to put yourself out there and hope it pays off. If it doesn’t, you have to have something solid to remind you it’s okay, like a positive thought or a song lyric or a mantra even. Something tied to a happy memory.
Trust also plays its part in the beginning of your journey into BDSM, because your mind is going to want to shout any kind of obscenities your way and then tell you why it’s going to harm your mind further.
BDSM is largely a psychological interaction, that much is true. But you don’t need to take that step to involve a second party until you feel you are ready. How will you know when? Your heart will tell you. Trust me, there’ll be a time.
If you are worried that any kind of risky play will influence your depression, BDSM has plenty of safety counter measures that will stand firmly in place should you feel things are getting out of hand. If it helps to ease your mind, read about the BDSM Contract, safe words and remember that any kind of interaction can be stopped if you feel overwhelmed.
As a Dominant man, being assertive when struggling with anxiety and depression is tough. I feel stupid sometimes saying or doing anything to my kitten. Repetition helps, I find. The more I spoke up, the more I got used to the idea of speaking out loud.
Practising alone can help matters. Speaking out loud, writing what you’d say down on paper, these are all different ways that can help you grow more confident with getting used to being assertive.
Regardless of role in the dynamic, if your shyness factors into your anxiety, communicate is the best thing to do. You may feel embarrassed and silly but I think you’ll find if the other person truly cares, they won’t mind at all.
There have been plenty of times where I raised the issue of my shyness and my kitten did the same and it made things more intimate and lovely and downright beautiful.
Whether you are a teenager or an adult, remember that the fog will clear and you’ll pass through an anxious period. You’ve done it before, it sucks I know, but you can do it again. Be there for yourself, take your time and remember, everything will be alright.
As always, if you need to vent any anxieties or just ramble the hour away to ease your mind, you can reach me at email@example.com
While the fighters of the great hall of Valhalla hooted and hollered, cheered and cried, Ryan knelt on the balcony that he discovered through an exit to the left of the enormous hall.
The balcony overlooked a courtyard that shadowed itself in trees whose leaves was a deep shade of green.
The courtyard itself overlooked the supposed Endless Sea, leaving a faint cream marbled seat near the edge of the courtyard’s Cliffside.
Ryan looked out onto this sea as his left hand ran along the balcony’s own marble and his right hand held a cigar that a drunken Elf had given to him in passing.
“Made from the finest leaves on Alfheim!” Said the Elf that towered above Ryan.
The Elf had stunk of brew and smoke and sweat. Ryan had taken the cigar from him just to move him along.
Ever since seeing Eira up there, Ryan felt queasy and needed to find a source of fresh air.
The worst part was that he didn’t know why he was feeling queasy. What was it to him that she was enjoying herself up there in front of everybody?
As Ryan looked out across the courtyard, he searched for the answer, any answer, but couldn’t find what he was looking for.
“Ryan.” Came a voice so soft from somewhere behind him.
Ryan turned to look and saw the woman Eira mentioned was the All-Mother.
The first thing Ryan noticed about her was her eyes. They were dark and piercing but at the same time, there was a kindness behind them. They expressed concern.
The All-Mother stepped toward him and Ryan sensed something else from deep within: This person exerted grace.
The thought made Ryan frown. He was tired, he knew, and this all must be the thought of an overwhelmed mind.
The gown that Ryan thought was Silver-White from afar was now ashen-grey. It seemed to ripple in the wind as it curled down the All-Mother’s figure.
Around the All-Mother’s neck was a white collar, bound together at the front of her neck by a silver band.
She came to rest against the balcony next to Ryan and for a moment, the two stood in silence as they looked across the Endless Sea.
“I am sorry about what happened to you, Ryan.” The All-Mother said. “I want you to know that.”
Ryan turned to her and the All-Mother turned to meet his look, her eyes studying him. They seemed to smile before her face expressed the action.
“How did I know?”
Ryan could only nod.
“I know about each and every person in that hall. The Elves, The Giants, The Dwarves.”
The All-Mother paused before continuing. “The fallen.”
She turned back to look out over the balcony. “Which is why I have come before you now, Ryan. I can understand why you aren’t celebrating. I too come out at night to be alone. It helps me think about what I have seen.”
What I have seen. The words skipped on repeat in Ryan’s head.
“Will you tell me why Eira is not beside you?”
“All-Mother…” Ryan began.
“Ye Gods don’t call me that.” The All-Mother replied, waving her hand in the air in a gesture of dismissal.
“Call me by my name – Frigg.”
Frigg? What kind of name –
“Ryan.” The lady named Frigg spoke up, cutting through Ryan’s mind. “Eira plays her part, as do we all. I can see there’s darkness within you, Ryan. But also a kindness. I hope you play your part as well. Playing our parts in this…is important..”
Frigg looked to Ryan with those brown impenetrable eyes and smiled.
Ryan watched as she turned to leave, mulling over what she meant for him to play his part.
Frigg moved with certain elegance, a certain sway to her, as she moved back into the great hall.
Darkness within me? What did she mean?
Surely Frigg did not simply mean Ryan should allow Eira to please him. But what is Eira doing by playing her part?
Eira stood in the entrance to the balcony, redressed in a sheer-white gown that did nothing to hide her form beneath the fabric.
Is this what we’re supposed to do, Frigg? Ogle these women? Do they really not care? Was this what Frigg meant when she said to play my part? To ask these questions out loud to Eira?
“All-Mother told me where you were.” Eira said quietly, her head bowed. “I didn’t want to disturb you. I didn’t know how, even if I wanted to.”
Eira stood before Ryan, her eyes that were cast down as she held her hands behind her back, were sullen.
“The souls so far…I can figure out. Men, Women. They tell me. There’s something different about you. Which makes this one wonder if there’s something wrong with her.”
The sudden transition from first person to third in Eira’s speech did not go unnoticed by Ryan. Before he could respond, Eira spoke again.
“Was it the order the All-Father gave? This one couldn’t turn it down..”
Ryan began to speak but realised he had no idea where to start.
Its true that seeing this beautiful woman, that guided him through the forest, masturbate in front of an entire room of people, not to mention the actions of the other Valkyries shook him a little. But Eira was right, this is their life.
“Eira” Ryan started to say.
“You don’t like this? Or what the Valkyries provide?”
“I am just not used to it is all. It’s…an adjustment..”
The words were failing him. He grunted in frustration and turned from her, looking back over the courtyard.
Eira was beside him now, leaning in front of him to look in his eyes.
He turned back to face her and saw that hurt was appearing across her face, her lips seemed to curl down, her eyes lost their light.
She was beautiful, even when expressing pain.
“If Odin is your Father, for want of a better word…”
Eira cocked her head.
“Your all-Father…what does that make me? Especially if you bring in new souls? Is that us done? Are you all Polyamorous? I don’t –“
In one swift movement, Eira snatched the still burning cigar out of Ryan’s hand, lifted up her gown, revealing her pale ass, and stubbed the lit end against her bare flesh.
“Eira, what the hell?” Ryan cried as Eira winced.
She flashed her eyes back up at Ryan and he saw her then – a flash of anger, a trace of shame and hurt. She held the gaze just as she held the cigar to her flesh.
“Each Born Again Valkyrie undergoes training as part of their new life. This includes managing pain, controlling it, minimalizing it. We are taught, we abide and we serve. That is who we are..”
“Okay?!” Ryan said, his hands rose in shock and confusion, just like his voice. “But what the hell is this? What are you doing?”
“I’ve offended you, Ryan. I am punishing myself.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa – No. Not necessary.”
Eira flinched as she removed the cigar from her flesh. She put the stub of it on the balcony railing.
As she let the gown fall back down around her knees, Ryan saw the black ash creased into her now raw skin.
“If you’ll follow me to your designated chambers…”
Still in shock, all Ryan could do was say “Sure..” quietly.
Eira led Ryan down a hallway of grey stone and lanterns. They crossed rows and rows of doors, some still partying into the night, some filled with symphonies of moans and others quiet.
Eira spoke only to speak of her own experiences of Valhalla – meeting Thor, speaking to Ravens, swimming in the Endless Sea.
All Ryan could do was nod, his mind stuck on the image of her raw skin left with the ashen trail where the cigar kissed her buttocks.
Conflicted and aroused, despite his reservations, he followed her quietly.
At last they came to his quarters and Eira pushed the wooden door open to reveal a wide room. Its floors and walls were made of stone, polished smooth.
The candle that sat on a table to the left was already burning, while the wooden bed, populated with rich cotton sheets and a luscious feather quilt, looked made and fresh.
Eira stepped in, swaying as she went, and Ryan saw she was moving to the back end of the room, towards the double glass doors with wooden frames.
When she opened the both of them, Ryan felt the breeze outside creep up on him.
He stepped forward, huddling himself as he went, and saw that outside lay a wooden balcony, complete with a wooden table and chair. The view that came with the room overlooked the Endless Sea and the Cliffside below.
When Ryan stepped back inside, he turned to look on the bed.
Given that his surroundings looked like something out of the dark ages, he wasn’t expecting to find that there were a fresh towel and a fresh change of clothes for him.
“Should you chose, another Valkyrie can greet you on the ‘morrow.”
“You, Eira.” Ryan finished for her. “I am happy as it is..”
When he turned back to face Eira behind him, Eira was completely nude, just as she was before in the great hall. Her gown was down around her ankles.
“Eira, what are you-?”
“I know I hurt you, Ryan. I know I punished myself with the leaves but”
Eira lay across the bed on her stomach.
“I feel in my mind, I need to ask for a punishment from you.”
Before Ryan could react, Eira shot out her right arm and grabbed at Ryan’s hand. Her grip was surprisingly strong, he noted at first, and then disregarded his first observation because – well, of course Valkyries were strong. They are trained warriors.
Did Eira train in fighting too?
“Eira, this isn’t –“
She rested his hand gently on her bare ass.
“Please” Her voice was strained.
Just hearing the desire in her voice, the need, was what drove Ryan to his decision to smack her initially. He didn’t think she needed it, but Eira did, and if he helped ease her mind, helped to convince her she didn’t wrong him, then he would do it.
His first smack on her bare ass was gentle. Eira didn’t react, Ryan saw, she only stayed quiet, with her head buried in the crimson feather quilt on the bed.
She did, however, move her hand to raise his again, and when it came down a second time, the smack let out a harsh clapping sound that reverberated off the walls of the room.
By the time Ryan struck her a third time, Eira let out a small whimper as hand connected with flesh.
Something burning hot and wild slid over his mind, over his skin, oozing across his chest and arms, tickling the hair on his body.
Ryan struck her. Again and again. The sound of her ass being struck, her skin becoming pink under his hand, drove Ryan to a place he’s never tapped into before. Something about this was satisfying him, fulfilling him. Feeding off of him. It was her cries, this place, this room, and her snow-white skin.
He thought of everything in that moment. His death, Asgard, Slave customs, Eira, Ragnarök, his family back on Earth. It all came back to him in a flood of memories.
He struck her for the umpteenth time and she let out a cry that was both cleansing and primal.
Eira let go of his hand, panting in the dark room.
Ryan let her hand go and sat on the edge of the bed, his chest heaving.
Neither of them spoke for a full minute.
“I’m sorry…I don’t know what that was..” Ryan asked, feeling shame burn his entire body.
“That was you, Ryan.”
“If that is me… I don’t know if I like that…”
Eira rose to her feet and Ryan’s instinct was to look away still.
“We have ways of understanding the darkness within us here…remember that.”
As Eira reattached her gown and brushed the hair from her eyes, she said “We can harness that energy here.”
Ryan looked at her and Eira looked back, serene.
“Get some rest. I will find you tomorrow.” She said quietly, before departing the room.
To be continued
© Tall, Dark and Dominant 2018