Story 2: Submissive Feminist

Chapter 4:

The evening air on the cool Spring day quickly seeped into the links of the chain as they rattled against my unprotected underside. I sat down with a bit of a clatter at the bus stop and was shocked to see a few links hanging down further than my skirt. I quickly shielded them with my purse and spent my time fidgeting, trying to pull a few links over the waist band of my skirt, and wondering if they had been visible dangling down as I had walked around.

When the bus arrived, I found that, as usual, my seat was empty and waiting for me, the crazy woman on the 6:15. Lisianski started laughing as we navigated the rush hour traffic.

"You seem to be gaining hardware," she said.

"Fuck off!" I whispered.

Even when you spend most of your time in a cage it is necessary to run various errands. So, it was several hours later that I finally made it home, stripped to my collar and leash, and began to slither backwards into my cocoon. I immediately noticed the new features that my cage had acquired during the day.

"What is this, Mistress?" I asked.

"I'll explain in detail in a moment, subGrrl. But first," Lisianski replied, "I was wondering if you happened to have remembered any strangely powerful, recurring entities from your dreams."

"Entities?" I inquired.

"Yes. Entities. Characters. Spirits. People not from your waking life."

I answered negatively.

A reader of this story may wonder why, thinking that as these bdsm erotic tales generally seem to go, noncooperativety generally lands the protagonist in progressively more dire straits. Indeed, it would seem, that is precisely what was about to occur to me. At the time, however, I did not realize that I was a character in a story. I thought my prevarication would hold and the topic would be forgotten.

Additionally, a reader might wonder why I was resistant to reveal Laysan in the first place. Well, having a voice, or voices residing in one's head is a particular invasion of one's privacy. Lisianski seemed to see what I saw. She heard what I heard. But, she never seemed to be able to hear my thoughts. My thoughts were the only bit of privacy that I still retained. I only ever saw Laysan in my dreams. She was mine. All mine. Only mine. I loved her! If I had told Lisianski, I believed that she would probably have sullied Laysan just as she had the rest of my life.

"Ok, subGrrl, if you say so," Lisianski sighed as I closed the cage door with a clatter and squeezed the combination lock shut.

It seemed that my feeding tube now ended in a rather bulbous rubber attachment.

"You'll find that in order to suck your protein shake, you will need to insert that ball into your mouth," Lisianski explained.

I pushed the bulb past my teeth and closed my mouth around it. When I sucked I felt a delicious stream of chocolatey fluid pour into the back of my mouth. "Mmm!" I was very hungry.

"You need to buckle those two straps behind your neck to keep the bulb in your mouth."

"Oh ay," I mumbled around the tube as I pulled the straps underneath my hair and fixed the buckle tightly. I wasn't certain how this bulb would simply fall from my mouth based on the work required to get it in, but whatever...

"Also," Lisianski continued, "knowing how well you like locks and links, you will find two shiney new wrist shackles to wear while you are in the cage."

I examined them skeptically. A short Y of chain connected the cuffs to the center bar on the cage door.

"Don't worry!" Lisianski stated quickly. "They won't prevent you from using the tablet to read your assignments."

I wrapped the cuffs around my wrists until they locked into place. They were tight, but comfortable - a perfect fit.

"The key to the cuffs is around the side of the cage. You won't be able to reach it until the door is open. Now, please, get to work!"

This night, I was fortunate to read a particularly interesting story. The heroine, a little f, was described in rich, complex technicolor. She was enticed, not degraded. She was loved, not abused. I felt a longing deep within as she navigated her travails with dignity and finesse. I felt a comradery, a similarity... I felt for a brief moment that I was not so completely alone in the world. Were a big F like the one in the story, to find me, to take me, to control me, I would be so complete.

I hummed so happily as I meandered through the story. Casually sucking up my dinner. At the end, I gave a heartfelt and thoughtful review detailing the specific points that most enamored me with the text.

It was late and dark by the time I was finished. My dinner was gone. I was ready to receive my nightly twenty and dream sweet dreams of Laysan. I reached to undo the buckle and remove the bulb from my mouth, but when I did the chain holding my cuffs snapped tight before my fingers made it half way to their destination.

"Mmm!?"

I tried to shuffle forward further and press my face against the bars, but nothing I did allowed me to sufficiently grasp and manipulate the buckle and I grunted loudly and angrily at Lisianski at the realization that I would not be able to remove the gag, for that is what this bulb was, until my hands were free in the morning.

I slumped to my side cursing Lisianski behind my gag.

"Your lashings, subGrrl. Let's go. It's late."

"Uh ooo!" I cursed again, but pressed myself back against the window and the invasive rear bar. I heard a swish and felt a pelt of fire stripe itself across my flanks causing my muscles to tense as I screamed into the gag.

Shots of searing pain repeatedly flashed through me until a splash of adrenaline soaked my nerves and oozed from within me. Afterwards, I collapsed in tears, shaking, as the fiery pain eased leaving a dull throb of unrepentant longing. It was this longing that over the past two months I had conditioned myself to relieve through auto-ministrations. But, once again, as I reached to settle the longing, the forgotten chains that held my hands at the front of the cage snapped taut.

"Mmm!!"

I banged around in the cage trying to reposition myself in some way. Tears began to rain in earnest and I let forth a long drawn-out, gutteral, angry, muffled scream as I realized my longing would be left to find its own way on this night.

"Good night, subGrrl," Lisianski said.

---

I did not go to sleep easily rattling around in my cage attempting to grind myself against my heel or the cold metal edge of the bedpan. Much later in the wee hours of the morning as I lay motionless and angry, blanketed in frustration, I heard the unknown voice begin to talk with Lisianski.

"No luck? Is she lying?"

"Nope. No luck. But it doesn't matter now whether she is lying or not. We have only one option," Lisianski said.

"You're going to adjust her reality coefficients?" the voice asked.

"We've got to," Lisianski sighed.

"Won't that result in dangerous hallucinations?"

"Maybe..."

My eyes popped open and stared into the darkness of my small, steel home.

"But, the only way to see inside her dreams is to make her see dream material when she is awake."

"Ok," the other voice said. "I'll begin to make the Etheryords."