My Owner comes for me each night after the twin suns have vanished beneath the horizon of gigantic waterfalls. She arrives in various forms; I never know in what shape She will appear in from one night to another. Sometimes She will materialise as something demonic, like a Succubus or a Drider Spider-Goddess. Other times She is as a ghost, ethereal and soft. Occasionally, She is almost human... almost. But always surrounded and clad by darkness. Always with a smile concealing lusts and desires, a smile that grows wider as She moves towards me...
I was taken from my world a few years ago, and trapped on this strange world where realities mix, flow, and combine into new forms and structures like dreams and nightmares. I had been travelling back home through the January cold and rain of London when... something... appeared out of the fog, like a hole in the air itself, spilling colours and sounds from infinite realities and possibilities out onto the dark, grey street. I think I fell in. Or I may have jumped, I don’t really remember. Whatever I had done, or not done, there was no going Back. It was far too late for that now.
She who now owns me appeared to me first as another human woman, trapped in this ‘new universe’, and showed me how to adjust to the way things worked here. She’d been there a while, and had assumed the mantle of ‘Baroness’ in order to survive. Being of a naturally timid nature, it took me a while to get used to the sensual - and at times, very erotic - customs and manners of the various ‘clans’ and societies here. I made some very good friends too, others who had fallen through the walls between realities, and we helped each other survive and adapt to the weirdness (and that’s the best word to describe it) that we found ourselves surrounded by daily.
And one day, She snapped a collar on my neck, and locked it tight. Very tight.
Seconds later her form shimmered and altered. As I backed away, her human form twisted and flowed and became black, reflective... arachnid. Her human upper half spat a jet of black liquid at me, which expanded and enveloped my body like a wave of hot water, then tightening and clinging to me like a second skin. As I fell upon the floor of the strange building She had taken me to, squirming and gagging against the film of black material covering my face, I heard her sibilant voice whisper... “Mine...”.
Through a haze of darkness, I could see Her looking down at me as the material twisted and bent my arms back against my shoulders, my legs being drawn together tightly and without mercy. With a deft slash of one of her lower claws, She sliced tiny openings for my mouth to breathe... I sucked in air gratefully, dizzy from terror. The second skin seemed to cling ever tighter, squeezing and caressing me like a living glove. A few more slashes from Her claws, and I realised that She had made openings in my new ‘suit’, and was already caressing the exposed parts of my writhing body with whatever appendages She had deigned to now manifest...
And now, I am lost to Her.
I understand that I didn’t fall into this world back on that London street... I was pulled in, by Her. Now, I exist as a toy, a plaything, left suspended and bound in a tight black cocoon when She is away hunting. I live inside the living latex suit She spun around me, my body twisted and contorted inside to match whatever She desires my appearance to be. She takes me as Her lover, Her slave, Her concubine, She invades my mind as well as my body and whispers... always whispers the word that makes my soul fall further and further into Her pit of dark, sensual silk...