$0.99
THE UNDERGROUND:
Descent
Nineteen year old, Tom never imagined when he chose The Underground to opt out of a jail sentence that it'd be like this.
~An erotic tale of sexual experimentation
and self-transformation~
The Underground:
Descent
Volanze (The Dominate)
Volanze is a vampire with a mysterious past. He has been with The Underground since it's conception. He found Reagan living on the streets and rescued her from a life of selling her body to satisfy her bodies urges from the backlash of the sexual disorder known as Sensual Borealeous and brought her to The Underground to train her in self control. He became her mentor in all ways, mentally, physically and emotionally. He never touched her sexually until she was eighteen years old and he let that be her desicion. She is his prized posession and she is the only one that he shows any type of sympathy or emotion towards.
Reagan (The Semi)
Ninteen year old Thomas (Tom) Davies can't believe it when he is arrested for fighting, again. He is a repeat offender and that is a minimum of three years in Richter, a minimum security floating prison colony. He chooses the Opt Out Of Jail Card and is transferred to The Underground for a minimum of two years. It's a sex community. How bad can it be?
Reagan was rescued by her Dominate, Volanze when she was sixteen years old from a life of selling her body to satisfy her bodies urges from the backlash of the sexual disorder known as Sensual Borealeous. The Underground has become her refuge, her home and she's been there for six years. She, along with Volanze is a permanent resident there. Having gained the new title Semi, she has begun to under-go training from Volanze to become a full time Dominate. Her first Submissive, Tom is going to be trained equally between she and Volanze.
Tom (The Submissive)
Tom's Short Story
THE FIRST TIME I LEARNED
about the underground was when I was ten years old. I was with my Mom and we were shopping. Well, I was more like being forced to follow silently behind her as she shopped. Mom didn't allow me to help and she didn't much care for me talking either. That's a lesson I had learned well over the years. Just shut your mouth, follow close behind and heaven forbid chomp down your mouth before any random question leaves it involuntarily, thus igniting Mom's rage.
She used to roll her eyes a lot and huff and puff, then she'd explode and start ranting at a very high volume, no matter where we were, about how annoying I was. How I'd ruined her life. How she'd been settled with me after my dad abandoned her on Havok. At first, I'd been too young and naive to understand, then as I'd grown older her words began to make sense and they would pierce through my heart like a very sharp daggar. I used to cry myself to sleep. Then, as I grew even older I began to feel such furry that it was hard to contain myself and I started lashing out.
It took one wrong word, one wrong look and I'd swing on someone. That release that I got when my knuckles connected with someone's jaw was pure sweet bliss. I would actually get a sexual charge from it. Most times, after a fight I'd find a closed off room or go to a bathroom stall and I'd immediately seek a release of a different kind. I'd fantasize sometimes about someone finding me there like that.
Pants unzipped and me stroking myself lavishly. I didn't care where I was I was never in a rush. To pleasure one's self was to be an event. At least, that was my personal opinion. It was very rare that I felt the need to speedy things up. The fantasy of someone catching me and joining in was almost too tantalizing to stand.
I still shiver at the thought of it. On that particular day that my Mom was drudging up and down department store isles I was carefully following along behind her and I saw a man heading our way. We were just coming out of the toilet paper isle and he passed by with a gentle smile and a light nod of his head. Even at ten I knew there was something different about him. I didn't recognize that sex was oozing from ever inch of the man's leather clad legs and exposed chest. He had also been wearing a thin golden collar with a small chain attached to the front of it.
The chain fell down below his belly button to attach to the golden belt fastened just below his hips. My Mom didn't seem to notice him as she cleared her throat or maybe it was a noise of disapproval. This event didn't change anything about me because I was too young to know that the man belonged to one of the biggest sexual communities in the world. I didn't realize that one day I would be that guy.
Not literally, or course, but I would become my own version of him. I'd voluntarily Opt Out Of Jail and go in to The Underground for two years where I'd learn more about myself and the world than I ever could living a pukes esistance as a Norm. That's what Undergrounders call Normal Human Beings. Ones who live a meaningless existance. They have no direction, no hobbies, and most of them have dead end jobs.
At least that's what Pagan always says. I personally don't give a damn about Norms or other wise. I had my own problems. His name is Volanze and he's my Dominate. He's so, unreadable. So quiet, but very demanding. If it wasn't for Reagan I would probably be in a whole world of Hell right now.
***
If you've enjoyed the short story share it with others. My erotic BDSM novel The Underground: Descent is going to be based off of it. I appreciate you taking the time to read it.
Press the ENTER button below to enter in to my Display Room to view images and videos that have recently inspired my writing or just amused me. Also, read personal - up to date journal entries. All subject matter with in The Display Room may change at any time. ;) As life happens.