When I wrote Surreal Neal, This was originally Chapter 7. However, this chapter from Jonas’s point of view didn’t fit into the narrative. I’m publishing it here for your enjoyment. You might be missing Jonas…
Sophia had done a wonderful job taking Sabrina deep into subspace. I had done it before, but not to this extent. To be honest, I hadn’t been sure she could handle it. Control was a difficult thing for Sabrina to surrender, and she did so with extreme reluctance. I would never have forced the issue, but I could tell she wanted it.
Of course, I had gone about demanding her complete submission all wrong. It had backfired, and I’d created a horrible rift between us, the kind that cut deep and painfully. We’d begun repairing the damage to our relationship by using a notebook. Whatever she was feeling that she couldn’t say outright to me went in there. Anything she wrote was considered neutral. She could tear into me, and I couldn’t use it against her, not that I would. If Sabrina ever tore into me, then I deserved it.
She didn’t use it all the time, only when she had something important to communicate that she couldn’t bring herself to say. Right now, that was most things. She almost never brought up these matters directly. The notebook was her voice.
When I found it in the closet near my socks, I treated it as sacred. This was where she bared her deepest fears and starkest desires–her soul–to me.
Once in a while, I wrote back. Mostly I waited until we had a moment alone, and I brought up the issues she raised. I knew it was difficult for her to share anything. Though I wished she felt like she could tell me anything, I knew it would take time. It wasn’t a matter of trust; it was a matter of her not wanting to disappoint me.
As if she could.
Last week, she’d asked me about deep subspace, wondering if I’d taken her there. I had not, and in a rare moment of humility, she asked me to do it.
I had no problem fulfilling her request, but I’d pushed her too far in the past and come to regret it. This time, I wanted someone objective in the room. Sophia was perfect; not only did she regularly flog Sabrina, she would look out for both of us.
I carried Sabrina’s petite form to the car. Barely conscious, she snuggled against my chest and rested her head on my shoulder. During moments like this, with her blissfully wrapped in my embrace, I felt whole and peaceful. She was mine, and she accepted it.
Setting her down, I propped her up near the passenger door. “Honey, I’m going to put the butterfly on you. Stay here.”
She murmured something, but I couldn’t make it out. I opened the door and pulled out the device that would hook around her legs and press against her clit. She cooperated with me, lifting her feet so that I could slide it into place. A small protrusion could be used in her pussy, but I bent it forward so that the stimulation remained outside.
Then I guided her into the passenger seat. Her head lolled against the backrest, so I tilted her seat back and put on her seatbelt.
Leaning across her, I was able to make out what she said. “Thank you.”
“No, I mean for this. I’ve never felt like this before.”
In addition to mumbling, she slurred her words. It took me a moment to translate her statement. When I did, I planted a kiss on her soft, inviting lips. “We’re not finished, honey.”
She smiled, and I knew I’d made the right decision. If I’d flogged her, then I might have missed the subtle signs that she was falling over the edge. While Sophia had been doing her thing, I had spent some time sensitizing Sabrina’s nipples. I kept her from subspace for as long as I could.
Her clothes had to be chafing her skin. I’d taken care of Sabrina afterward, seeing to the areas that were raw and inflamed. Sophia had disappeared, not waiting for us or walking us to the door, which was fine. I’d seen her drag Drew into the front room, and I knew she was seeing to her needs.
The drive home would take a half hour. I had the remote for the butterfly in my hand, but I gave Sabrina ten minutes before I started playing with the settings.
Our home was a remodeled Victorian. Sabrina’s grandfather had purchased her dream house as a college graduation gift. I wanted to move closer to where I worked, but I couldn’t bring myself to say that to her, not knowing how she feels about the house.
We didn’t have a dungeon like Sophia’s. I had a room in the basement I kept locked because there was no way anybody could mistake it for a bedroom. This was the place where I took Sabrina when we wanted some hardcore play. I kept some equipment in our bedroom and in the pool house, but I had made sure the equipment I wanted was in place before I’d driven Sabrina to see Sophia.
By the time we arrived at home, she had emerged from subspace. Her eyes were focused, and she was shifting in her seat, fighting the effects of the butterfly.
“Yes?” Using the title of “Master” had not worked out for us. Sabrina had disliked it. This was a compromise, one I’m not sure she liked. The fact she was using it meant she was trying, and that pleased me.
“You’re not finished with me, right?”
“Nope.” I parked in the garage and guided her to the basement.”I’m going to make you scream.”
That was another thing she’d asked for in her notebook. She’d said she wanted to scream. I was welcome to use a gag, but she wanted me to make her scream and not stop unless she called the safe word.
I’d built a frame in the shape of an H and mounted it on a sturdy base. I bent her over one side. The connecting pole supported her torso, and the other end crossed her body above her breasts but under her shoulders. In short order, I secured her ankles to the base, forcing her to stand with her legs spread. On the other end, I hooked a line through the O-ring on her collar and secured her to the floor. Her arms were free, but she wouldn’t attempt to break away.
I used a ball gag in her mouth. She didn’t like this kind very much because it made her drool, and that was precisely the reason I preferred it. She needed to understand in her core that she had no say in these matters. Plus she looked amazing with her lips around a bright pink ball.
It was a testament to her docile mood that she neither protested nor glared.
“You’re being very good right now, honey, and you look so lovely.”
She blinked, and I could see the naked pleasure she took in my compliment.
The next thing I did was to bring her a little pain. Bondage thrilled her to no end, but pain pushed her over the edge and kept her there. I fastened tweezer clamps to her nipples. Each had a chain that I attached to the center post. Any movement on her part would tighten the clamps and ratchet up the pain factor.
Relief was the first item on the agenda. I grabbed a condom, lubricated the hell out of it and her anus. She tightened when I tried to push a finger inside, but she caught herself and relaxed.
“Good. I’m not going to hurt you. Not yet.”
Unless I stimulated her clit, she didn’t come when I took her like this. I didn’t want her to come, not yet. I wanted to work her up to the point where her climax left her a trembling puddle of goo. She needed this. She needed me to give it to her.
I entered her slowly, letting her get used to the sensation. While she liked anal sex, she’d informed me that her greatest pleasure was in knowing she’d made it possible for me to have an orgasm.
Several experimental thrusts later, I established a rhythm. The H structure was bolted to the floor. I grasped the ends of the bar supporting her hips and fucked faster. Her hot little body fit so tight around me. She groaned and moaned encouragement and pleasure. When I felt my balls draw up, I drove deep and let the climax consume me.
Nothing compared to taking the woman I adored when she was bound and gagged, her ass, thighs, and back still bearing streaks from a thorough flogging. I staggered backward and sat heavily on a padded bondage chair, and I enjoyed the view of her gorgeous ass while I recovered. She waited patiently, flexing a muscle or wiggling her toes every now and again to keep her circulation going.
I disposed of the condom and cleaned myself, and then I attended to her. She whimpered a few times, both a protest to my treatment of her engorged clit and the fact that I wiped away her juices.
Next I grabbed a crop. I brought it down sharply across the lower part of her ass. She gurgled a scream through her gag. I delivered another and another. She danced under the onslaught, trying to escape the sting on her ass and the tightening clamps on her nipples. I stole a look in the mirror I’d installed on the wall at the perfect angle to catch her face when she was on this thing. Tears streaked her cheeks, and she looked like she was in heaven.
I nudged her clit with the flap, and then I struck her there. Her eyes widened, their shape matching her mouth, and she screeched so loud I thought for a moment the gag had come loose.
Recognizing that look, I knelt next to her face and pushed a strand away from her eyes. “Did you come?”
“Did you have permission?”
She shook her head.
We had worked out a signal for when she wanted to ask to come, but she had yet to use it. Sabrina still came whenever she wanted. When we’d first met, she had been new to bondage and domination, and she had never orgasmed. Ever.
“Show me the signal.” I had to make sure she remembered it.
She blinked at me, and I waited for the wheels of her mind to finish churning. Finally she showed me a signal. It was the wrong one.
I rearranged her fingers, crossing her middle finger over her pointer. “This is the signal. Failure to use it will lead to punishment.”
I didn’t actually want to punish her, not tonight. I had plans that didn’t include denying either of us.
She nodded and blinked, apologizing. I think. A line of drool trickled down her chin. I left it alone.
With that out of the way, I slapped the flap of the crop on the side of her breast. She gasped. I repeated the action on her other breast and got the same result.
She nodded, and I knew she wanted more. I reached under her and released the nipple clamps. She bowed and screeched. Her body jerked so hard I knew she would have bruises on her wrists and the places where the H-frame touched. Her cunt quivered, and light reflected from the ample juices there.
I smacked the flap of the crop on her breast, abusing flesh that I’d already tenderized, though I avoided her nipples for the time being. Before long, I had reached my limit. She was simply too enticing. I removed my jeans and took my place behind her.
On the best days, I had good stamina. I prided myself on outlasting Sabrina. She clenched around me three times, remembering once to ask for permission. I hoped to hell she passed out soon because I wasn’t sure I could outlast her without battery-operated help.
Her soft, velvety walls felt so good. Just when I gave into the urge to climax, she shuddered and went limp. I was exhausted, drained, and proud of what I’d done to my wife.