** I dunno if it's true, But I like to Imagine that Joe Tortuga is a demented Dungeon Master for an extremely sexually explicit D&D game that involves lots & lots of Cloaks of Stiffening and Gauntlets of Orgasm. If I'm wrong, Joe... don't tell me. Please, please, please... don't ever tell me.**
That Feeling
by Joe Tortuga
I noticed that feeling Thursday on the drive home. You know that
feeling? The one in the small of your back that makes you yearn, makes
you need. I used to need to be touched there, after a year of being
lonely, but these days I need more than a simple touch.
The day started bad, just by being a Thursday. As soon as I walk in,
Walters gets in my face about the Jacobi account, even though it's his
people that were screwing it up. Our boss broke it up and told us to
figure it out. That makes Walters smirk, which of course meant it was
my problem. It was my commission after all, and we needed that
commission for school supplies.
I felt the knot between my shoulderblades tighten. The weight of
everything rested a bit more heavily on my shoulders.
I spent the morning figuring out the Jacobi shitstorm, and had things
almost okay when I got the call, "Judy needs braces, hon." I sigh
and call HR to see how much of that is covered, and how much I'm going
to have to find in our budget. The knot between my shoulders
tightened a bit.
The small of my back starts to feel empty then, like a hole that needs
to be filled. I notice it in one moment, but my day is going nuclear
and I didn't have the attention for it. Nothing to do about it but
down another cup of coffee and make more phone calls.
Lunch? Let's not talk about lunch: about how the lines were long, how
they overcharged me and how got my order wrong. It was half edible; I
dumped the rest into the trash. I thought about complaining, but the
way my day was going I'd wind up in the emergency room. Or jail.
After lunch I met with Jacobi and ironed things out. They were willing
to do the deal, but cautious. I couldn't get them to sign today, but
maybe tomorrow. It was a victory, but I didn't feel it. Instead, I
worried about them changing their mind. And then I knew I was going
to worry about it all night.Thinking I'd get another night of bad
sleep stressed me out more, making the weight on my back heavier and
heavier.
I spent the rest of my afternoon making cold calls, hoping for
something that'll land a commission, get us a bit more flow. Most of
them hang up, and the few that do talk are merely being polite.
That's the way it goes, but when I pick up my bag to head home I can
feel the tenseness in my back, in my whole body.
Just another day at the office.
I settle into the car, and for the first time today I can feel the
ache there. There's only one thing that fixes that ache. In the mood
I'm in, I can't even hope that I'll get it. I text that I'm leaving,
and drive home. My family greets me at the door; dinner is on the
table. We deal with the kids, get them put to bed, and I feel my back
tense up even more. I'm worried this is not a good time for us.
I slip into the bedroom, strip off my clothes and get out the flogger.
I can hear the shower going, and have some hope. I set the flogger on
the bed and close and lock our door, in case one of the kids wanders
in. They haven't in years, but with my day... I don't want to take
the chance.
I slip into the shower, "I got out the good flogger."
"Bad day at work, hon?" I nod. It's the way it is, there's nothing to be said.
A quick kiss and I'm alone in the shower. I clean up quickly, and
towel myself dry. I step back in the bedroom, and move where I'm
pointed to. Hand above my head, I feel the cuffs snap around my
wrists and ankles as I'm bound to the door. I'm tense; I can't relax
at all. "Maybe this isn't a good time."
"Shhhh." The blindfold slips on, and I'm in darkness.
When the falls touch my back, it's just the tips. A light trail down
my sensitive back, enough to let me feel the soft leather. I shudder
from the feeling, nearly coming I need it so badly. I arch and strain
against the cuffs, pulling on the door where I'm tied.
Then it starts in earnest, dull thumps hitting my shoulders,
alternating sides. The leather straps thud into my back. My body
fights back, tensing, trying to move away. But it keeps going, on and
on and inexorably. "Give my your pain."
My body relaxes then, and I give it up. My soul starts to dance in
response to the flogging. The pace is rhythmic now; it's settled into
a pattern. I hang slack on the door, and the tears start flowing.
"That's it, that's it" I hear. "Give it to me." I lose myself in it:
the flogger, the pain, the tears, the stress. Eventually it is all
gone, and the next thing I know, I'm being unhooked from the door, and
settled into the bed. Our warm bodies wrapped up together, holding
each other while we go to sleep.
And I know, so long as we're together everything will be all right.
And that's the feeling I needed more than anything else.
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