NIKA

Little Dots of Light in the Darkness

The links of the chain rustle homely, when I move about, making me wonder, how I ever got here. Here, squatting on the rich carpet, on which the chain glistens like jewels, connecting the ring around my neck to the leg of the heavy, elegant table. An utmost unnatural connection, neck to leg and yet it fits the state I'm in. Obediently I open my mouth when the soup-filled spoon touches my lips, a little spills and out of instinct I tug on the restraint holding my hands back to wipe the miso from dripping from my chin, it should not spoil the dear fabric under me. But the wire is too string and it only cuts deeper into my wrists, before a tongue laps out to clean my chin with loving care, teaching me again, that this is not my concern. I should not worry, I'm not responsible. That there is no me anymore. Another spoon follows, more soup, comfortably warm, no longer hot, cooled by his careful blows to a wonderful temperature. I swallow like I always do. More soup follows; I lose track how often I open my mouth, or his tongues comes to clean me or to relax inside my mouth. I lose track of myself, like every time, now I get chop-sticks with rice and fish. Tasty. A very delightful meal, but not made by him. It was a delivery-service, he allowed them in, even though I was already here, on the floor, naked only covered with the wire to bind my hands and the 'necklace'. He made me realize my worth through this. And who I am. The one who I am normally is hanging on a hook right next to the entrance, his limps dangling, discarded like a second skin. The empty shell would not be very pleased if he could see me like this, subdued, but cared for. Lonely through the company of another human being. Lost and enjoying it. Utterly vanquished, broken, opened and filled with someone else. He would shake his head softly, without understanding and turn away in disgust. He can't perceive what is going on. I believe, he's better off being discarded . More fish follows. Sour sweet pickled ginger. And some other tastes to tickle my senses, a little warm sake, then his cock and I swallow indifferently, the flavor of semen is nothing new to me. It does not go well with the sake though. It flows into my mouth with a stifled groan out of his throat, his Adam's apple moves under his skin as he gulps after another orgasm. Next thing for my senses is the sweet taste of purin melting on my tongue, a sip of sake again, also I suck his fingers, offered to me, a little salty. Dinner is over, I realize as he tugs on my chain. I stumble to my feet, they feel numb after crouching for so long. I go to the bedroom, knowing the routine very well. His hand claws in my neck, the thumb pressing enough to hurt, but not enough to tear open my skin. A simple reminder of the hierarchy. I'm the underdog, he's the alpha. With a carefree shove I'm bend over the foot of the bed, my face pressed in the cool materiel of the sheets. Without any further delay, a small vibrator is pushed into my opening, and I don't struggle against it. I feel neither pleasure nor pain, just my body on the cool sheets, now warming up and his presence behind me. "Tell me!", he whispers in a mocking tone. He likes to be strange and wants me to tell him that he is so good to brighten up his day. "You are better", I say, no emotions displayed in my voice. Maybe they are dangling on the hook next to my second skin? That is all the private conversation we have tonight. The mechanical cock is replaced with his own and he fucks me in an uncaring, habitual way. Thrust after thrust shakes my body, pressed me deeper into the sheets. There used to be pain in this state and pleasure also, but now there is just stupid bliss and all I can see are little dots of light in the darkness, even though a screaming white light is flickering on our joined bodies. He grips my wired wrists and jerks me up, just to see that he still can do that to me. I regret leaving the sheets, and now the shoves are harder. My wrists are bleeding, I feel the warm liquid dripping and smell rusty iron in the air. But it's not a bad wound, just small cuts on the surface. My unthinking look falls down on my lower body. The times I got a hard-on from getting fucked are long over, when I got one, he didn't care either, so I had to suffer for release, which was rarely granted. But he cares for me in any other way, he drowns me in care and buries me in attention. He takes away the pain of being the one on the hook now probably lightly shaken by the mild breeze of the open window. I cannot see his face, the face full of fake concern and emotions. His emotions a beside him in a clear plastic-bag, untouchable for the both of us. Thrusts that whack my body, unfelt pain...unreachable pleasure... why do they bind me? I don't realize that he has finished inside of me and already taking care of my wounds, removing the wire, lapping up the blood, making me crawl onto the bed completely, covering me with clean blankets, and falling asleep before me. During the day this second skin is strangely comfortable, hiding the creature that is bound to the leg of a heavy table in the evening. Daytime is no time for a thing like that, poor, misshapen. I'm me here. Have responsibilities and a name. I flirt and joke, make other people blush and laugh. I like that, enjoy holding power even though I know I will throw it away just the moment I step inside this apartment. I wander through my days with a dreamlike boldness, and everything seems to flourish, even though I don't care about it anymore. I crawl through my nights with a nightmarish lack of conscience, my needs control me. Or rather, they used to control me, now they are no longer my needs, but his. And I don't care about my nights either. My mouth around his fingers, around his nipples or his hardness, I don't mind. And my nerves don't react when someone pounds inside of me. Neither to him nor to the ones he brings sometimes to fuck me. Even the delivery-boy gets to shove himself inside of me and gets paid for that even. I don't care, I don't care.... I mustn't care. I shouldn't be troubled. That is not my responsibility. As well as I am not my responsibility. When someone rams into me all I can see are little dots of light inside the darkness of my eye-lids. Moving around me, dancing for me. When it's over they don't stop. In the morning, when I wake after a short nights dark sleep, I sit up, knowing it should hurt, but feel nothing. He takes me to the bath, bathes me, lathers me up, like he always does. I have to take care of nothing. He dresses me, make-ups me, does my hair, feeds me breakfast. When he towels me I don't dare even blink, the dots are lingering in the corner of my eyes. During breakfast, I'm given tea and suddenly tears are escaping my eyes. Tears that I didn't know I should shed. His eyes widen. When we leave the apartment, they have not ceased, neither can I stop them. The liquid just drops from my eyes onto the carpet, onto the lift-floor, onto the pavement. Wherever I got the drops mark my way. "Stop crying", he says, when we get into his car, and yet the tears refuse to stop. I don't sniffle or feel particularly sad, there are just the tears running down my face, unstoppable, steady and silent. He takes me to the place where we meet the others and still I cry. Concern is suddenly like a shrill unnecessary buzz in my head, while the salty liquid tumbles towards the ground. I don't stop and all their attempts to make me feel better are in vain. After an hour or so, they take me away, leaving him behind. I feel strange, my face all wet, my eyes so tired... I drift away, slowly, eyes wide open... The next thing I feel is an injection, dimly aware that they are talking about me and my 'state'. Worried. Without understanding. Strangers who I call my friends and other strangers, who happen to think they can cure me. "Hara-san, you should think of yourself now and take better care of yourself. Sleep and then we will make you better", a soft, warm voice assures me. My eyes close involuntarily. Responsibility returns to me with a vengeance. I have to care for this 'me' from now on, even though I don't know how to. And even the little dots of light don't appear anymore.

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