MMA ROMANCE: PATH TO SUBMISSION

by T. A. LESNER

END OF CHAPTER 7

  8

  The next day I awoke with purpose, It felt like I had a tremendous weight lifted off my shoulders. As I went to the kitchen to get breakfast I sat with Florence and spoke about life and had a great conversation. As day quickly turned to night I knew I would have to confront Victoria but at the same time my mind was so powerful it could take me to a place I didn’t want to go. As I fell asleep I saw Victoria sitting on the sofa. I sat with her and confessed to that the black girl who pleasured me was still on my mind. She had a tenderness that I adored and was eager to experience more from her.

  "What, you dare to think about another woman besides me!” she yells.

  “Perhaps you like her even better than you like me, she will be even more diabolical towards you.” she argues.

  I am frightened; I have never seen her like this before; she is suddenly pale even to the lips and her whole body trembles.

  "Do you want a taste of the whip?"

  She snatches the whip from her side and strikes me across the face causing me to fall to the floor.

  "Are you still alive?" she asks.

  Victoria looked at me with a curious pleasure.

  "Consider with care what actions you take," she said.

  "I have been despotic towards you so that I might fulfill your dream.

  Something of my old feeling, a sort of real sympathy for you, still trembles in my heart. When that too has passed who knows whether I will give you your freedom; whether I will not become really cruel, merciless, even brutal toward you; whether I will not take a diabolical pleasure in tormenting and putting on display the man who worships me endlessly, the while I remain indifferent towards you. Consider this thoughtfully."

  "I have long since considered all that," I replied.

  "I cannot live without you; I will die if you set me free; let me remain your slave, please don’t drive me away."

  "Very well then, be my slave," she replied.

  "Don't forget your love doesn't mean any more to me than a dogs, and dogs are kicked."

  She stands up and walks around in circles thinking of her next move. Her breasts bounce delightfully around her open furs with every step.

  “I’m bored.”

  "I will bathe and you will attend to me," she says.

  "Come here Eric. Carry me in your arms."

  I lifted her up, so that she rested in my arms, while she wraps hers around my neck. Slowly, step by step, I carried her while her hair beat from time to time against my cheek ever so tenderly.

  Once at the bath she had me twist her flowing hair into a large knot which I fastened with a red ribbon. Then I prepared the bath while she removed her furs.. Some magnetic force stronger than my will compelled me to look at her nudity. I felt that all sensuality and lustfulness lies in that which is half-concealed or intentionally disclosed. I sank down on my knees before her, and gently pressed my lips on her foot.

  My heart which had been turbulent only a little while earlier, suddenly was perfectly calm, and I now felt no element of cruelty towards her.

  She slowly descended into the bath, and I could watch her with a calmness in which not a single element of torment or desire was intermingled. I could see her plunge into and rise out of the water, and the waves which she herself raised played about her like a symphony. Stroking her breasts was incredibly arousing and the feeling of her erect nipples caused a stir deep within me. After several minutes of washing her I sat back with admiration of her gleaming body.

  When she finished the bath, and the wet drops of water rippled down her body, I was seized with silent rapture. I wrapped the towel around her, drying her glorious body. As I dry her legs I am sure to place my head near her lap to inhale the freshly bathed fragrance. I spin her around to dry her back and as she leans forward with her hands on the countertop I am captivated by the sight of her sexuality spreading open for me. I knew that my chemical dependance to her fragrance was beginning to adversely affect me and I quickly stood up to avoid the temptation.

  We walked to the main room but she did not lay down, but merely threw off her furs and undid her hair; then she ordered me to build a fire, and she sat by the fireplace, and stared into the flames.

  I begin to think about the predicament I find myself. I imagine the goddess of love as having descended from Mount Olympus for the sake of some mortal man. And always cold in this modern world of ours, she seeks to keep her sublime body warm in a large heavy fur and her feet in the lap of her lover. I imagine a beautiful despot, who whips her slave, and the more she walks over him, the more insanely he loves her.

  My strength was broken. And if I am honest with myself, neither the pains and sufferings that threatened me, nor the humiliations that impended, were the thing that frightened me.

  I looked into Victoria’s blue eyes.

  "I cannot live without you. Have mercy on me!"

  She looked at me again, and her face exposed an evil smile.

  With this she turned over on the other side, and contemptuously showed me her back.

  For a long time silence reigned, then she slowly raised herself.

  "You bore me," she began.

  When I didn't budge, she seized the whip and struck me.

  "Slave!" she said.

  She tossed the whip aside, and broke out into clear laughter.

  I threw myself down at her feet, and in my agitation embraced her knees.

  "I don't want anything of you, except to be your slave, to be always near you! I will be your dog."

  "Do you know, you bore me?" she said, indifferently.

  I leaped up. Everything within me was seething.

  She looked deep into my eyes.

  “Dangerous potentialities were slumbering in me, but you were the first to awaken them. If I now take pleasure in torturing you, abusing you, it is your fault.”

  “You have made of me what I am, and now you are even unmanly, weak, and miserable enough to accuse me of mistreatment."

  Listening to what Victoria was really saying to me opened my eyes. I feel like someone who has suddenly awakened out of a feverish delirium, or like a shipwrecked man who has for many days battled with waves that momentarily threatened to devour him and finally has found a safe shore.

  A feeling of oppression weighs me down, and I cannot rid myself of it. It is probably the sufferings of the past years, which still cast their shadows into my heart. I sit in silence, contemplating a way forward.

  I look over at Victoria. How beautiful she looks, laying on the cushions while displaying in full fashion her splendid figure. Her hair is interwoven with, and held up by a red ribbon. A mighty fire is burning in the fireplace, the hanging lamp casts a reddish glow, and the whole room is soothing.

  "Victoria," I said at last.

  She sat down again on the rich cushions and tried to draw me down to her side, but I softly slid down to her feet and placed my head in her lap.

  "How beautiful your eyes are, I have always loved them as the best of you, but today they intoxicate me,” I said.

  "I no longer please you, I suppose I'll have to be cruel to you again, evidently I have been too kind to you today. I should whip you for a while,” she said with a smile.

  "Come, let me bind you," she continued, and ran gaily through the room.

  "I want to see you very much in love, do you understand? Here are the ropes. I wonder if I can still do it?" she said with laughter.

  She gently began with my feet and then she tied my hands behind my back like those of a prisoner.

  "So," she said, with eagerness. "Can you still move?"

  "No."

  She then tied a noose in a stout rope, threw it over my head, and let it slip down as far as the hips. She drew it tight, and bound me to a pillar.

  "It feels as if I were about to be executed," I said with a smile.

  "Well, you shall have a thorough punishment today," she said with a wink.

  Then she stood in front of me with her arms folded across her ch
est, and looked at me out of half-closed eyes.

  I trusted her now. Every drop of fear has left my body.

  "It was you who inoculated me with selfishness, pride, and cruelty, and you shall be their first victim. I now enjoy having a man that thinks and feels and desires my power; I love to abuse a man who is stronger in intelligence and body, especially a man who loves me.

  "Do you still love me?" she asks.

  "Even to madness," I exclaimed.

  "So much the better," she replied,

  "So much the more will you enjoy what I am about to do with you now."

  Victoria placed her arms around my neck and kissed me. I was again seized by my fanatical passion.

  "Where is the whip?" I asked.

  She laughed, and withdrew a couple of steps.

  "You really insist upon being punished?" she exclaimed, proudly tossing back her head.

  "YES!" I said in complete ecstasy.

  At that moment I came back to reality. To my real thoughts, my real body. I have escaped the dream. I began to have a flood of thoughts.

  Mr. White taught me pleasure alone lends value to existence. whoever enjoys does not easily part from life, whoever suffers meets death like a friend. I am determined to set myself free from this girl who has treated me so cruelly, even if it was at my request.

  I have loved her even to madness, I have given myself to her as no man ever has given himself to a woman. She has abused my most sacred emotions, and played a bold, frivolous game with me. However, as long as she were merely cruel and merciless, it was still possible for me to love her. I am no longer the slave whom she can kick about and whip. She has set me free, and I am leaving a woman I can only be indifferent towards.

  Now that I am a free man I intend to return to MMA training. I will use my newly found mental strength to become a champion once again. My next opponent will feel the wrath of my pent up aggression. My next girlfriend will learn that I am the hammer and she is the nail. Whoever wants to enjoy life must take it with a firm grasp. In the sense of the ancient world; he dare not hesitate to enjoy at the expense of others and he must never feel pity. He must always remember that if the roles of power were reversed, they would certainly reciprocate, and he would have to pay for their pleasure with his sweat and blood. That was the world of the ancients: pleasure and cruelty, freedom and slavery went hand in hand. People who want to taste victory, like the gladiators who came before them, must not mind if by chance they are stained by blood.

  END