Be Careful What You Wish For Read online

  Abi slowed her pace reluctantly to wait for Nikki to come alongside.

  ‘I’m late for an appointment over the other side of town. What’s up?’ She resented this intrusion on her thoughts.

  ‘Well, your contract is almost done here. Have you got anything planned? Anywhere to move on to with regards work?’

  Abi sighed. She didn’t need this now. ‘I’ve been filling in application forms for weeks, but I don’t have another job to go to yet.’

  ‘Well, you could do worse than staying on with us and moving into another position. You know Boss would be happy; there’s always a place somewhere for you. That would save you having to find anywhere new at all.’

  She knew what Boss wanted, only too well. And she deserved better. For three years he’d taken the credit for what she’d achieved, pushing his name forward instead of her own, using her ideas, her words, her plans. Now her contract was almost complete he needed her to turn her attentions in another direction, passing her on into a field that was flagging in the hope she would raise its profile, and his into the bargain.

  Abi looked at her watch, quickening her pace. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve got to go. But... I’ll keep you posted.’ She pushed open the outer door leading to the car park, and was soon through the barrier, snug in her Nissan, away out of sight of the building with Nikki standing looking after her.

  She knew Nikki would report to Boss. She also realised she’d be hounded, goaded, coaxed and cajoled until she could positively say she had somewhere else to go. Boss badly needed her services, which she wasn’t prepared to give, not any more. Besides, it wasn’t just her. Other staff were leaving. Moving on. Even those who’d worked there for years were having second thoughts. He wasn’t a manager. Bickering and gossip were rife amongst staff. He only fuelled the fire by setting one person up against another. In failing to meet his targets his organisation was losing money hand over fist. Questions were being asked in high places. She didn’t intend to put her own reputation on the line, to be a part of their downfall, or on the other hand, sign another contract while they all somehow struggled through another year with no guarantees at the end.

  Abi spurred the Nissan through a network of roads, dropping in to speak to people in three local meeting places before heading home. All her working life had been about meeting the needs of different groups in various parts of the country. She was used to evenings and weekends taken up helping a young homeless person find a place to stay, coordinating exhibitions, promoting awareness of local issues and problems, creating newsletters, listening and supporting whenever and wherever needed.

  Her whole life, it seemed, had been about service to others. She was well-liked, well-respected, relied upon by people in authority as well as those on the street. Was it so wrong to want for herself the same kind of service she had given others?

  As she put the key in the lock to open the front door she was once more filled with the familiar sense of longing, loneliness, desire. She was proud of her home. She’d built it up out of almost nothing, decorated the interior and created a patio in the garden to enjoy her efforts outside. But without anyone to share it, where was the life and the love that would make it come alive, to give that warmth of knowing she really was home?

  For moments she stood gazing out the window, watching the rosebuds raise their heads and open petals to the heat of the sun. Oh how much she could give to The One who might love and fulfil her need.

  She remembered suddenly why she’d wanted so badly to return home. Pausing to flick the switch on the kettle she skipped up the stairs to the Den, and kicked the computer into life. While it was starting up she changed hastily out of work clothes and into jog trousers and baggy jumper, went back down to the kitchen to make a mug of coffee, and eagerly trod the stairs again, closing the door of the Den, to position herself in front of the screen.

  Her finger clicked the mouse, scrolling through pages to the one she sought. Frantic now she scanned the In Box, desperate for a positive response to her mail.

  She’d found the site a few months ago, and researched the subject well. Now, armed with newfound knowledge, she was impatient to put theory into practice and test if it was right for her.

  Before moving on to the replies she read once more the letter she’d posted, conscious it could be read by anyone in the world.

  I am new to this, so please be patient with me.

  I’m a newly-discovered sub. Not realising I am submissive actually made me a victim through a lifetime of destructive and controlling relationships where I was dominated, controlled and ruled by fear. It is therefore with some surprise that I am only just admitting to discovering within a deep aching need to be controlled and dominated and to be submissive... but with love, and within a safe, protective, trusting, understanding environment.

  I thought I was asking the impossible, until I happened upon this site. It is with some trepidation therefore that I take this first tentative step towards understanding this hidden ‘dark side’ of me, and just where it might lead.

  To me this is not a game. I come with emotional baggage, fears and phobias resulting from a violent past. I have been trained to be obedient. I am used to being so open as to make myself vulnerable. My only fear is being hurt and having my trust betrayed over again.

  I am not addicted to pain as some on this site seem to be, but only wish to give, to please, to be of service and to have someone else take control, with my best interests at heart. My character is one of submission. I wish only to be accepted just the way I am and to be allowed to be the person I am in safety.

  I feel a growing need to be with someone who can learn alongside me, working with me, developing and growing and learning to fly beyond what is... to what could be, together.

  I value your comments, suggestions and shared thoughts and feelings.

  Pandora

  She had thought long and hard about the right name to use. It seemed appropriate. She’d opened a new email box especially for any response.

  Her stomach flipped at two replies awaiting her attention.

  I am an old Master, 53 years young, seeking a new slave to train. I have 20 years’ experience. I will gently and patiently train you from scratch to be SLAVE. Your teaching will progress gradually until you are a total slave for my use. Your age, size, shape and looks are not important. A willingness to learn and serve, along with a sense of humour, is!

  Master David

  I am a kind and caring experienced Domination Master. I am looking for a new sub for a long-term relationship. I am interested in the psychology of power and also the lighter aspects of punishment. You need to be genuinely submissive. I am intelligent and well-educated and expect you to be more than a doormat!

  Tempest

  Abi sat still in her chair, reading and re-reading the words, aware of the oddest feeling. Deep somewhere within raged a mix of emotions. In her groin was a growing tingling sensation, an ache, a need. She felt sticky, damp. And as the tingling reached up into her stomach and beyond, spasms made her breath come in short gasps, causing her to wriggle and squirm. What was it that touched her so deeply? These were just words... but what if they were to become real? How much more might she feel then? The thought entered her head, and with it a picture of submission to a Master. She was stirred into such a state of excitement she had to break off for a while and lie on her double bed, a buzzing vibrator held between her legs, returning to the screen much later.

  She tried to focus on other things, to do the ordinary jobs that came with owning her own home. But she was drawn by curiosity. She could almost taste the arousal so much a part of her now. Inside she was on fire with a thirst, a passion to learn more, to become a part of this brave, intriguing new world she’d found almost by chance. She hardly dare pursue the question of this madness that had taken hold. She’d no-one to talk these things through with, except those who came online.


  And so it began... this journey into the unknown.

  For two weeks emails flew back and forth across the ether. She spent as much time as possible in front of the screen, drawn into this secret world of pain, pleasure and desire. She knew from everything she’d read on the subject that domination and submission was about everything from pain and pleasure to ultimate power exchange. What she was looking for was that each participant be an equal part of a committed and consensual relationship that offered mutual openness, respect, trust, and where she would be valued as the pleaser, the giver, the submissive she was, dominated and controlled... in love. It was a very special and very powerful kind of relationship.

  And yet...

  Something was missing. Something...

  One evening she arrived home later than usual, and a new and very different message awaited her.

  I bring you with reverent hands

  The book of my numberless dreams,

  White woman that passion has worn

  As the tide wears the dove grey sands

  And with a heart more old than the horn

  That is brimmed from the pale fire of time.

  White lady with the numberless dreams

  I bring you my passionate rhyme.

  White Lady with the Numberless Dreams... will you share your dreams with me?

  Dream Catcher

  A white heat seared suddenly through her body, making her gasp, catching her unawares. She throbbed in every fibre of her being. Driven by an unexplained passion never experienced before, her fingers pounded the keys.

  It is a frightening thing to suddenly find this dark side exists within. People through the years have tried to change me into what they wanted me to be, telling me that acting as a victim is wrong.

  ‘You should be more assertive,’ they say. ‘You need to take control. You’re too soft, too open, too vulnerable for your own good. It’s little wonder you get hurt!’

  It’s a relief to discover that being submissive is not wrong. That is probably why I have felt the victim without understanding the greater implications ruling my life, and this is the essence of my true self. I can be free to be the real me if only I can find the right environment and teacher who can give me the freedom to be Me, and accept and love me for who and what I am.

  And more, for it is in acknowledging and learning to accept this ‘other’ part of me that I find this ‘dark side’ which has remained hidden for so long. Suddenly I am aching to break free and to embrace this new life. To share it with One who knows.

  Are you The One? How can I be sure?

  ‘Tread softly, lest you tread on my dreams.’

  Pandora

  He was waiting. Moments after she sent her reply his words came, causing the deepest stirring in her loins.

  Pandora, thanks for writing to me. My interest is sensual enhancement. Like you I want a deep and trusting relationship within which to safely explore those sides of our sensuality that are mutually compatible. I am very interested in psychology and have baggage of my own, which is now well sorted. Write to me about your life so far... include your feelings and experiences. The more I know the securer we will be. I look forward to seeing these glimpses of you, of how you express the energies of your life that you are leaving behind. I will then need to meet you and consider your submission.

  Dream Catcher

  All thoughts of sleep were gone. How could she write of her life in a way that would tell it the way it is... and yet at the same time be different?

  Could she see herself as a unicorn, tethered and unable to fly?

  A Life Journey

  His words, like touch-paper, ignited the flame within, catching hold of her spirit. With a strength born of experience, a knowledge that comes when two souls touch, a control with the ability to protect, nurture and lead, and an anticipation of love brighter and more precious than anything ever known; she was drawn to him.

  Their souls fused and a rainbow of mixed emotions lit up the night sky. It formed a bridge across the distance between them. With a gasp of joy and not the slightest hesitation, she took her first steps across the great divide... eager now to begin the journey, craving the attention and love she was confident of finding the other side... yearning to be tethered, to be held... to have someone finally take from her all responsibility, guilt, shame, past hurt, realising she had come to that place where she had always yearned to be... where she was accepted, where she belonged... where she might simply Be.

  She had come Home.

  Prior to birth she had known that hurt was to be a necessary part of her life. And knowing the hurt that would follow she hadn’t wanted to be born at all, had struggled against it, trying to get back to the womb where it was safe, protected, loved. And yet at the same time she knew what had to be.

  From the start she was different. She didn’t belong. Born with a disability, she was hunted by those who got pleasure from taunting, teasing, making her feel small. At the same time conditioning and control became a necessary and natural part of her life. Because she was different she was hidden from the outside world. She knew she was different. She was treated differently. Yet, confoundingly, the reasons behind it were denied her.

  Writing, poetry, music, art became the language she lived by. Within her own world there was always The One, as yet undiscovered, unknown, offering hope, encouragement, support, teaching, guiding, control, right there for her with understanding and love, an intrinsic part of her journey and her world. Where He was she didn’t know, but she would find Him no matter what.

  She believed with absolute certainty The One and the world of which He was a part existed. And yet every time she reached out for Him, He eluded her. And instead of specialness and love, she kept falling into the hands of those who would hurt and maim... and control... a non-consensual control that made them use and abuse and threaten her fragile world.

  The healer who saw to her disability was the first to take control, creating an illusion of safeness so that her parents left her in his care while he wielded a power over her which terrified and hurt. No words were spoken. No reasoning offered. No questions answered. His actions left memories so confusing and so bad her mind hid them from her, unable to cope for many long years, until she was able to accept, to know, to see them for what they were - and move on.

  A much respected member of the community, who nurtured her talents as a musician, was next to gain access to her through her parents. And behind closed doors he met with her at his home, using the same abusive power, leaving her helpless, wondering what she had done that was so wrong they would want to treat her this way. What had she done that was so bad? She was obedient, a good girl, always willing, always pleasing, giving of herself. What then made these things that were bad happen to her?

  In her late teen years the abuse continued on. She met cruelty from the outset. He forced things, tortured her mind, tying her spirit so tightly, hurting it so badly it could no longer roam free even in her heart. She was violated, tied, held, bound, beaten until she was all used up, with nothing left to give, even the ability to show and to feel emotion had been taken from her. Finally she was left lying there, worthless.

  She was fragile, aching with hurt, deeply ashamed, believing it all somehow to be her fault, going over and over the experiences in her mind. And still vulnerable she fell into the hands of yet another. Although not cruel in the physical sense, he confused and manipulated her mind... giving her thoughts and then snatching them from her as if they had never been. Things around her altered... but at the same time she was assured they were the same... her movements were restricted... she went only where he wanted her to go.

  But as time went on something inside her began to retaliate. Suddenly she was not so easily accepting the rules laid down, resenting the fact she had become nothing more than a puppet on a string. What had she been thinking of all this time, livin
g her life through someone else? She wanted more. She needed a life of her own. She had her own thoughts and desires and needs, and she wanted to be able to discover and experience them for herself.

  With this newfound insight, this thirst suddenly to break free; came the ability to say ‘No!’

  It wasn’t allowed, but she said it all the same. And the effect was remarkable... it turned her life completely around. Her mate completely disappeared just as if he had never been. It was an ordinary day, and then the next he was gone. At first she was afraid. Could this be a new ploy; part of a new plan to break her? She felt first threatened... then abandoned... and when he didn’t return, for the first time she learned to be gentle with herself, to mend the broken spirit within.

  Finally then, she reached this place. She has rested awhile, waiting... hoping... longing for that moment when she might KNOW... when that spark would ignite within her like a flame... the moment when her spirit might finally be set free - free to be given to the ONE of her choice who would harness its energy, bridle, tame and develop it into something beyond which was beautiful and precious in a place where always it would be accepted and loved.

  I offer the gift of self. It is all I have. I am tired of searching, of being alone. I reach out, my true submissive self the gift, willing to be bridled, to be taught, because... after all this... I cannot cope with the frantic anxious spirit that even now writhes like a great beast, impatient and straining to be truly free and to fly to that place beyond what is... to what could be... to a place where all things are possible in a controlling love.

  She takes her first few steps across the bridge of emotions, ready and willing to submit... hoping to find The One... to experience finally what it is she has been looking for all her life... asking to come Home.