Taking Flight

by Tabitha Rayne

  Her other hand still occupied with Katja, Deborah used the purchase in the other woman’s pussy to bend her knees and crouch a little to offer more space to the punishing paddle. The flickering balls of tiny fire on the top of the candles all around drifted in and out of focus, becoming large suns, then tiny pinpricks threatening to disappear altogether. Deborah fucked and humped and felt the pull of her own climax take over as she rushed on a wave of spirit right to the meeting point and into the arms of her lover.

  “Marcus!” She was so stunned to feel him, smell him, see him. She thought he was in the room with her. “Are you here?”

  He looked at her in confusion and disbelief for a split second, then grabbed her face in his palms and kissed her deep and hard, imparting all his longing and aching into her soul and she did the same. Just as soon as it began, he started to fade. Deborah thrashed about, trying to hold on, keep him there, but it was no good. He drifted into the darkness, and Deborah watched the light of his being become the flickering glow of a candle in her punishment chamber.

  When she came to she was slumped with one hand between her legs, still holding the paddle, which was now sopping with her juices, and the other being squeezed by Katja’s hot, satisfied little cunt.

  Deborah couldn’t decide whether she was euphoric or broken-hearted but it seemed whichever it was, this woman who was bathing in a post-orgasmic glow of her own had brought her and Marcus together. If only for a moment.

  Extracting her fingers, she replaced the panties and pulled what tattered fabric was left of the skirt back over her buttocks to offer the woman a little dignity. She crawled to the front of the bench to untie the bindings, then stood to unwrap the woman’s wrists, rubbing them as she went to get the blood flowing back in.

  “Don’t worry, the markings will soon be gone,” she said softly as she massaged the ridges, trying to smooth them out.

  “It’s okay, ma’am,” said Katja meekly. “I like it.”

  Their eyes met, and Deborah saw a look which seemed to mix determination, satisfaction, and sorrow with a deep sensuality that told her this had been something they had both needed. She fought the urge to smile and make chit-chat. After all, they would be doing this again very soon and she was now certainly looking forward to it.

  Chapter 24

  “Where’s Katja?”

  The unfamiliar chaperone just shrugged and kept marching steadily in front of Marcus on the way to the servicing chamber. They went past the usual door right down to the end of the corridor. The chaperone waited for the lock to be released then ushered Marcus through. The room was different to his regular one, which only had a chaise longue and changing corner. This one had a large four-poster bed and proper wash area for him and what looked like a very comfy chair to recuperate in.

  “We’ve got new clients for you to entertain,” said Katja’s replacement with no emotion. “Don’t anger them.” Then she left.

  Marcus felt tense and lost. He tested the bed. Quite hard. He lay down and waited for his client to appear. He must have drifted off for a second but was woken by hot breath just at his ear and a low, menacing whisper.

  “What do you think you are doing?” Something told Marcus he wasn’t to answer and he guessed right when she continued, “Don’t you say a fucking word.”

  The woman stood back from him and he looked her up and down, taking in her severe silhouette. She was angular in a feminine way, but with a cold aura that made Marcus almost tremble. This was it. By some weird twist of fate, he’d been offered a chance to test out his submission theory. By the determined, steely way she was looking at him, Marcus had a very good idea what might be about to take place and he summoned all his humble timidity to get what he needed from her.

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve actually had a man who needs to be taught his place. Most are so grateful to still be alive that they don’t break the rules any more. Well, I say bring in the bad boys. I’m here to teach you a lesson.”

  Marcus parted his lips to speak but thought better of it as she placed a gloved finger over his mouth and flashed him a look which left no doubt as to its meaning.

  “Roll over, bad boy,” she said in that hard tone, but Marcus detected excitement and arousal beneath the surface.

  He did as she instructed and squashed his face into the pillows. The tip of her leather glove ran seductively from the nape of his neck over his shoulders and down his back, raising hairs and electricity as it went. His groin tightened and swelled and he lifted his hips slightly to allow his hard-on to rise beneath him unimpeded. A sharp smack to his backside told him quickly how the woman would deal with any unauthorized movements. Here it was. They didn’t know that by punishing him like this they were holding out a key to his freedom. Smack! The sound, then the sting. Marcus smiled into the bedding and the woman slid a hand underneath him to feel the stiffening cock.

  “Tut-tut,” she purred. “This will never do. Never do at all.”

  With one hand gripping him, she administered another five sharp smacks and milked him in time. The movements were constrained; her hand squeezed tight around him and pinned down by his body-weight and tension from being slapped. Liquid seeped from the tip of his cock, smearing over his abdomen and onto the sheets below, and Marcus drifted up and out of himself and began to call to his lover.

  Soft light became brighter and the infinity rolling out before him made him feel tiny and immense at the same time. He was riding the waves and pulses of pleasure emanating from the physical and using it to travel through the astral planes.

  “Deborah!” he called over and over with his heart and soul. “Deborah!” It was a whisper and a shout, and every time the wave of pleasure retreated, it gathered strength and swelled back fuller, with more urgency. Marcus knew this level of intensity wouldn’t last long. In the distance he could hear what was going on in the chamber and he filtered it out with his calls. “Deborah!”

  Suddenly, from a point on the endless horizon a wisp of light appeared and roared toward him. The speed was blinding; he shielded his eyes as it flashed closer and hit him in the chest like a sonic boom.

  “Marcus? Are you here?”

  He grabbed the energy entity by the face, kissing her hard and entering her spirit while his body convulsed below, releasing a shuddering, shattering climax. Like a mirror breaking and dissolving into a trillion stars, he fell back into his twitching body, panting and writhing in the shock of being back in the physical realm. He was on his back with his cock buried deep in the hot, fiery depths of his captor. She jerked her hips, and her head slumped forward, shuddering, as liquid spilled out from their union over his body.

  “My, my, we do respond to our punishment, don’t we?” The woman sat up, still impaled on his softening cock, and swept her hair off her face and over her shoulders, mopping her brow with the back of her hand.

  Marcus smiled at her and sat up on his elbows, urging her to move off him. She was very beautiful, he thought, as she curled her long, bare legs up and dismounted, cupping her sex in her palm to keep from spilling anything. For a moment she looked unsure, and Marcus pointed to the little bathroom area.

  “It’s all right, you can use that one.”

  The woman smiled coyly as if she had suddenly turned shy. When she came back he saw she was indeed shy and he asked if she was okay.

  “Yes, yes, I’m fine. Thank you.” She offered him a brief, tight-lipped smile and gathered her things. “If you don’t mind…” she started, and he thought it sounded like she was about to state her disapproval of the exchange they’d just made. She continued, “I will be back tomorrow, and I may bring a friend.”

  Had she really just asked his permission?

  Marcus found himself stammering, “Well, y-yes, I don’t see why not.”

  He could hardly wait. If that woman could elicit the spiritual journey he’d just been on, he was sure to find Deborah again. And soon. His heart leaped as the now strangely meek woman left his chamber.

&
nbsp; * * * *

  As soon as the door closed behind Katja, Deborah ran to her bedside table and took up the notebook. They’d found each other. For real this time. Deborah knew for sure how to get back into that place, and she silently thanked the governor for sending her Katja. There was something about the new prisoner, something that connected up the story, but Deborah just couldn’t put her finger on it. Even with the governor, it was different. Yes, she’d come and they’d fucked but there had been no connecting with her lover, not really. Deborah vaguely wondered why this woman would be the missing link to their connection.

  She rifled around in the drawer and found a moth-eaten quill and dried-up ink bottle. It took all her might to dislodge the lid but eventually the ink flaked away and she unscrewed it. She spat into the solid block of black and scratched the quill about in it, trying to form a useable paste.

  Finding a blank space, Deborah began to write in alternating thin, spidery script and blotching blobs.

  I know how to reach him now. The new strange woman, whether she knows it or not, has shown me the way. I will find you again, my love. We will be together.

  Deborah lay back in her bedding, euphoric. It had worked after all. She could barely wait for the next day.

  Chapter 25

  Della placed the lid on her fountain pen and picked up the file she’d been working on as she leaned back into her chair. Twisting her knotted-up neck, she smiled as it cricked, reminding her of why it was so stiff.

  Regan and the new inmate had certainly taken to their new roles with exceptional gusto. A shiver of pleasure ran down Della’s back as she remembered the tantalizing view of the action through the peephole in the door. It had been a wonder she hadn’t been discovered, her hand wedged firmly between her legs and her breathing husky as she practically humped against the door.

  Surely she’d be forgiven a little perk or two. Della knew she’d been getting a reputation for being a little intimate with some of her fellow guards or delivery people but this was perfect.

  That Katja woman is certainly keen on getting out, Della noted as she scrutinized her papers. Ahh, she thought as she read where the new inmate had come from. So she’d lived on a farm. No wonder she was so desperate to go back. Della would give anything for even one sniff of a male. The scent of a man. It had been so long; even the lingering odors of past male employees or prisoners were gone, without a trace.

  Della had heard of the oxytocin bars where you could inhale the pheromones from the intercourse you couldn’t afford. Then there were the musk bars where you could inhale the smell of the men getting ready for their time making the oxytocin you couldn’t afford while having the intercourse you couldn’t afford. Then there were women like Della, who could only just afford the memory of a male.

  Saliva began to form at the back corner of her tongue and pool in her gums as she breathed in deeply, craving the scent. It was a feral reaction when the ache came over her. Her whole body yearned for just one little hint in the air of her natural counterpart.

  Looking shiftily around the room, Della scurried to the safe where all the most sensitive documents were kept. That, and her prized treasure. Tucked at the very back, out of sight, was a zip-sealed plastic bag with a worn out rag inside. Della brought it out, feeling guilt at her weakness, but she needed to, just this once. Carefully, she opened the bag and lifted it to her face. Sealing it around her nose and mouth, she inhaled. It took a second or two, and for an instant she thought it might be gone, but there it was—only a hint, but it was there.

  She knew she shouldn’t have kept it. Tears fell over the plastic and she slumped to the ground with her back against the wall, clutching it tight. It was such a self-destructive addiction to want to breathe in an absent lover. The craving dissolved until only the ache was left. Della reluctantly took the bag away from her face and resealed it as tightly as she could, squeezing out the air to try and keep the last hints of him inside.

  She wiped away her tears and snapped back into governor mode. Self-pity would never do, especially now that she had a plan which, if it worked, meant she might be able to go to one of those farms one day. He might even be there.

  * * * *

  Deborah was ready and waiting, and Katja didn’t even need to be told where to go. She came in, pulled her newly acquired tunic over her head, and dropped it to the floor on the way past, taking her place on the suede bench. Deborah was actually quite miffed at the presumptive way in which it was done and she was about to make Katja leave and come back in again, but her impatience to find Marcus at the meeting point was too great.

  “Eager,” said Deborah in what she hoped was a dismissive tone.

  “I just want out of here, ma’am.”

  “Very well.” Deborah opened the bottom drawer this time, knowing exactly what she’d find there after another tidying session that morning. The woven leather handle felt weighty and solid, but the long tassels were airy and soft as she trailed them across one palm, letting them fall one by one until they swayed and dangled just out of sight of the naked woman spread out on the bench.

  Deborah raised her face skyward and closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in and preparing herself. She smiled and looked back down at the full backside that was presented to her. Lifting her arm high, she heard the air split as she flicked her wrist and brought the leather tendrils down hard onto Katja’s flesh, who jerked forward, tensing up. She watched the woman’s knuckles whiten as they gripped the suede at the other end of the bench.

  Red lines flared over Katja’s rear and Deborah had to stop herself from asking if she was okay. Hovering her palm over the welts to feel the heat radiating already, Deborah quickly slipped her fingers down between the woman’s thighs, nudging them apart to feel whether she had truly enjoyed it. Bringing out a thoroughly sodden digit, her own dampness spread with the presence of the obvious arousal. Deborah felt herself begin to detach from her body and quickly thrashed the woman some more to build her want.

  The sound of the smacking retreated as Deborah spread her pussy lips wide with her other hand. Yes, she was ready, ready to spin out of this reality and meet her lover. She bent her knees a little and slid her middle finger deep inside herself, undulating her clitoris onto her palm. With one last look at the red-raw rump of her prisoner, Deborah’s eyelids fluttered and her eyes rolled up as she flew into the beyond.

  “Marcus!” No sooner had she formed his name than a seismic blast tore through her being and he was in her.

  “I’m here, I’m here, I’m here.” They twisted and turned and mingled in each other’s bodies, both physical and spiritual.

  “I missed you so much,” she gasped as something huge slipped in between her legs and overtook her. She suddenly felt tiny as he engulfed her both inside and out. His cock was a thick column of lust and he fucked and rammed her hard, as if he needed to own her—to believe they were actually there, together.

  She felt like a rag doll being tossed in a blanket and she surrendered to the joy of being completely under his control.

  He held her legs open and wide and carried her on his forearms as he humped and she rode him. All the desire in the world seemed to converge at this point in time and space, and all at once they were everything. Marcus and Deborah were the world, the universe, light itself.

  “I love you.” The very space around them seemed to gasp the words as they slipped and slid in each other.

  Deborah’s cunt sucked and heaved as he plundered her, devouring her flesh with his lips and tongue, and she kissed back, catching him in her teeth, trying to keep him inside forever. His cock crashed and forced out and in and she met him thrust for thrust, juices spilling and spraying from her utter abandonment. Her bud was engorged and peaking, ready to explode, and he shifted position, pulling his arms out from under her and reaching around to grab her ass and pull her into him while he drove his cock deeper and deeper. The base of his shaft met her aching clit and he slowly wound his hips, keeping firmly inside while his p
ubic bone ground against it.

  “Oh, Marcus.” Deborah heard the groan come from the inside of her heart as she began to shudder around him. The wave of pleasure welled, threatening to break but still spiraling, and Deborah panicked as a surge pulsed through his cock, still deep inside her. She thought she’d miss him and her breathing paused. He grasped her attention with his stare and they locked eyes.

  “It’s okay,” he soothed. “We’re both here.” Then his face contorted in ecstasy and his nails dug into the flesh on her ass, and she thought she would split in two with the explosive force of his climax. She rode the eruption and went to jelly as stars grew and exploded inside her. She clenched his body in her thighs and let all tension go as she came hard over him like a feral creature made of pure lust. They sank together, still locked together in a spiritual embrace.

  “I’ll never leave.”

  “Neither will I.”

  Everything stilled and slowed until even the sound of their breathing ceased.

  Chapter 26

  “So, Katja.” Della eyed the inmate up and down. She’d never met such an obedient subject in her life. “It seems you have passed your correction already.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.” The voice was meek and submissive yet Della sensed a real determination.

  Yes, this woman and Deborah Regan had proved her theory on punishment. Della was ecstatic and could have leaped on the woman for a victory fuck but managed to contain herself. Everything had to be aboveboard—she had to appear squeaky clean, as it were. She would have to content herself with the memory of snatched glimpses through the peephole.