Don't Label Me! (15 page)

“
An emotional Meta being, isn’t that
dangerous? You’re potentially more powerful than Thex and he nearly
caused a world catastrophe once when he lost his
temper.”

“
That’s because he is not used to it
and doesn’t know how to channel it safely. I know what I am. I know
the all too human weaknesses of my relative self. I’m at peace with
who and what I am. The Malakim know I’m liable to rant and yell
when things are unjust or simply going plain wrong but they don’t
take it personally.”

“
So don’t take your rants personally,
I think I can handle that. Anything else?”

Orea smirked but she didn’t want to scare
him with her kinks just yet. “Oh a few things but we’ll get to
them. First tell me about the other dimension I touched. I think
you know more about it than I do don’t you?”

“
Have a look outside. I don’t think
it’s so other any more.”

Orea looked around the hut and spied a sheet
of colorful tie-dyed batik cloth. She wrapped it casually around
herself and tucked in an edge to secure it just above her boobs.
She’d find a pin later. Walking out she paused as the filtered
sunlight of the jungle splashed across her face. She was
momentarily dazzled by the light but then her eyes adjusted. “Oh
my!” A myriad of winged beings flitted through the trees,
glittering beings in shades and colours she’d never imagined
before. Two taller, almost humanoid, winged beings stood beneath
the great fig tree, deep in conversation with the goddess and the
one George’s mind told her was someone called Melissa. “How?
What?”

George put an arm around her shoulder,
standing with her to survey what she had done. “Seems even Meta
beings don’t know everything. You merged this patch of jungle with
the dimension of fairy. It’s what we’d planned to do once we’d
recovered but somehow you did it all in one easy step. You must
have picked up the need for it from my mind. Without this the
bulldozers would have soon descended on this land. They are right
at its borders.”

She wasn’t sure what the threat of
bulldozers was but the images of deforestation she picked from
George’s mind weren’t good. “I couldn’t have done it without you
George,” and that was the truth of it. Now she just had to work out
how to convince the village people that she was not a goddess but
something they could all aspire to.

Sheila was more engrossed in reading the
latest novel by one of her favorite authors than she was in manning
the club’s reception desk. It wasn’t a hard job. The guard on the
door upstairs kept those with idle curiosity from getting in.
Still, it was a second check, even if it was more a meet and greet
for the club’s usual members. She smiled, relieved, when Sathi came
downstairs but frowned when she took in the 25 something Asian man
with her. She could be wrong but he looked awfully ‘vanilla’. “Are
you sure Sathi?” Although she rarely second guessed her friend.

“
He rescued me Sheila.”

“
From...?” The man, while young, had
something of a teacher or public servant about him but he did walk
with a stance that suggested something more. Someone who didn’t
need to prove himself. Someone you’d be happy to have your
back.

Sathi heard a mental warning from Hideo not
to scare Sheila with too many details just yet. “I was followed
when I left. It seems I’ve attracted some unwelcome attention.”

Sheila extended a hand to the gentleman.
“Thank you for looking out for me friend and business manager. Call
me Sheila. I have to ask though, do you know what you’re getting
yourself into coming down here?”

Hideo returned the handshake. “Hideo
Suzuki.” By force of effort he managed to say his name with the
first name upfront but couldn’t help bowing slightly. It was as
innate as breathing. “I think this might allay your concerns.” He
retrieved a letter from his inside jacket pocket and handed it to
her.

Sheila scanned the letter, her frown melting
into a broad smile. “Well now Master Suzuki, if you’re a student of
Kit’s then you are most welcome. She says here that you are skilled
in Japanese shibari but you are still learning the finer points of
kinbaku and performance bondage. I don’t suppose I could offer you
a mutually beneficial deal? You get to practice and our crowd gets
to watch?”

Hideo looked thoughtful. “I would need a
model.”

Behind him Sathi’s pulse sped up,
remembering the time she’d been Kit’s model. Would he be as good as
his teacher? A deep need in her awoke. Finding out would be the
only way of answering it. Getting down on her knees before him and
lowering her eyes to look only at his shoes she presented herself.
“I would be honored if you would choose me Sir.”

Hideo offered her his hand to help her up.
“There is no need for that Sathi. I am what your club would call a
rigger, not a dominant. For me shibari is about accentuating a
model’s sensuality, vulnerability and strength. It is akin to a
spiritual practice. Like shiatsu it stimulates acupressure points
and moves the model’s energy or Ki. More than that, it is art. To
be honest, initially, I wasn’t sure why Kit wanted me to learn it.
Now I’ve met you I start to guess at her motives.”

Sathi grinned. “You think Kit was
matchmaking?”

“
It is possible and while I sometimes
question her views on fighting I have yet to question her motives
in this. Would you do me the honor of being my model?”

“
Yes I would.”

Sheila nearly clapped her hands in glee.
“Good, that’s decided then. Go and circulate for a bit while I
arrange to have an area set up for you. What ropes do you
need?”

Hideo lightly stroked the skin on Sathi’s
arm, considering. Her healthy skin would not be easily abraded by
something with a little more texture than silk and he also wanted
something that would compliment her natural coloring. It called for
the elegance of simplicity. “If you have any undyed jute that has
been already prepared that would be great. Just a basic set should
suffice.”

“
Not a problem.”

Her comment jogged Hideo’s mind. “Actually
there is a problem of a different kind Sathi and I would like to
discuss with your members, but maybe after.”

Sheila arched an eyebrow, intrigued. “Okay,
brief me later and if I’m convinced I’ll call a meeting of members,
but I doubt it will be tonight. Before you head out on the floor
though I’ll need you to read through Sathi’s standard contract. If
you are happy with her stated hard and soft limits sign here,
otherwise you two will need to negotiate any amendments you wish to
make and both initial the changes. The club has a two alcoholic
drinks only policy if you’re playing, order and pay at the bar. No
smoking allowed. The dungeon monitors have silver arm bands. Feel
free to ask them any questions you have and for anything else you
need for your demonstration.”

Hideo wasn’t sure the club could afford to
be out in the open too long but he’d wait for that discussion and
take it up with her then. He picked up the contract and started
reading.

Rules and regs dealt with they wandered into
the main hall of the club. There was a stage where a dominatrix,
otherwise known as a domme, was currently demonstrating various
forms of discipline with the guy she had on a leash. It seemed a
lot like dog training to Hideo but the man on the leash was looking
at his mistress with adoring eyes, obviously enjoying what she was
dishing out. Who was he to judge? At smaller stages around the
perimeter of the room others engaged in various forms of play some
of which quite frankly looked a lot like torture. There was one
particular hooded guy who looked for all the world like a medieval
executioner. His naked victim, another man, was in stocks, unable
to do anything about what was happening to him. It looked quite
painful, even potentially damaging.

“
Sathi, why does that man over there
look like his balls are being squished between two pieces of
glass?”

Sathi laughed. "The man with his balls
clamped is Lewis, a good friend of mine I'd like you to meet later.
He’s quite the sexual omnivore. I would never try to categorise his
tastes. He’s game to try most things. The device is perspex not
glass and while it is called a ball crusher that's not its purpose.
It is all part of a game called cock and ball torture. Although
it's actually play, not torture. The guy inflicting the CBT is
called the top and the guy having it done to him is the bottom.
It's the top's job to ensure that he doesn't cause the bottom any
lasting harm. It's the bottom's job to trust that the top won't.
Yet there is still that edge of fear that says that because he is
bound there is nothing he could do about it if the top did decide
to castrate him. It’s that edge of danger that they dance that
gives them both a thrill. The top experiences a feeling of power
and control, even wonder because another being is giving him that
much trust. While the bottom gets the relief of letting go that
very same power and control. He wants someone to trust that much
that he can step aside from his ego mind and fly free, into a
wonder that we call subspace."

Hideo felt his balls contract. He wasn't
sure how any man could trust another that much. "So how does the
bottom know that someone he picks out to play with has the skills
necessary not to harm him?"

"That's where the club comes in. It gives
people a chance to share their knowledge through demonstrations and
giving workshops. A top doesn't get to be called master in what he
does until another master of that specialty says he has the skills
that go with that title. The training required for that kind of
status usually involves the would be master not only learning the
particular set of skills and techniques that go with his or her
kind of kink but also being subjected to the very things he wishes
to master. Much like Mistress Kit has given you master status as
far as shibari. Here you are Master Suzuki but only as far as your
specialty." Sathi paused in her explanation to take a second glance
at the man who was topping Lewis. There was something about him,
the way he held himself, his slightly scruffy underfed appearance.
She'd almost swear he'd once been one of her clients but she
couldn't quite place him.

Hideo didn’t fail to notice her fondness for
the one she called Lewis or her partial recognition of his
tormentor. He sincerely doubted that Sathi would ever restrict her
love to just one man. He’d need to take that under advisement.

Once the domme and her slave cleared the
main stage Sheila reappeared with the ropes Hideo had requested.
“Would you like to set up now?”

Hideo bowed and accepted the bundle. “Yes
thank you. There is much going on around here that is strange and
new to me. I could do with a diversion.”

“
Do you need any props?”

Hideo had considered that but he thought he
would go with simplicity and elegance. This was after all his first
public performance. It was one thing to practise in front of a
classroom full of Kit’s students. Quite another thing to do it in
front of strangers. He needed to block out that distraction and he
could do that best by totally focusing on his model. “Just Sathi,
naked and willing, although it would be nice if she came out in a
kimono if you have anything like that.” If Sathi was indeed his
destined mate as Simon had suggested then this would be his first
chance to woo her. He’d never conceived of seducing a woman with
rope before. Lunch, flowers, a tea ceremony perhaps but not
shibari. He would make this all about her. The crowd watching would
simply not exist for either of them.

Sathi seemed to know where she could quickly
find something to double as the kimono he’d requested. The club
kept a costume wardrobe for its members. While she ran off to
change, Hideo mentally readied himself. Sheila took the stage to
give a brief background and history of the art, giving them time to
prepare. Sheila also reminded the crowd that this was an art form,
to keep their talk to a minimum during the performance and to leave
their questions until after the demonstration.

Sathi reappeared, dressed in a simple wrap
around dressing gown of pale blue satin. A wide ebony sash bound
her waist. She had pulled back her long black hair and bundled it
into a simple multi-layered hair-do, secured with what looked for
all the world like a pair of chopsticks.

Hideo couldn’t help but smile at Sathi’s
quick innovations. He would make careful use of it all in their
performance. While Sheila spoke he checked the ropes, running each
through his hands looking for wear spots and abrasions. He didn’t
want anything that might scratch or injure Sathi.

Having finished her intro Sheila winked at
her friend and then left the stage to them.

A deep calm descended on Sathi as she
watched Hideo walk towards her. Silently, with a slow but measured
pace, he proceeded to undress her, like some virgin from the pages
of a samurai novel. She could feel herself really there, another
time, another place, another culture. The silken material of the
kimono fell from her shoulders, pooling on the floor. With a
seamless action that might have almost gone unnoticed by the crowd
he pushed it casually and effortlessly away from her with his
foot.

A firm hand took her hands, gently pulling
her arms behind her. Grasping her shoulders purposefully he turned
her, an act somehow far more powerful than just walking around her
to reach her back. She could feel the texture of the rope as he
wound it around her wrists, securing her in her helplessness. It
was that transition between power and submission that drove damp
heat straight to her feminine core.