Submitting to the Elements

I held my head in my hands and stared out of my office window. It was Friday afternoon. My body was slumped in its chair with early March listlessness. I sighed. Winter just felt never-ending this year. I could barely recall when last I'd not felt tired.

I knew that in reality this had only very little to do with the weather and much more to do with my state of mind. Ever since I'd lost him, I hadn't been the same. The time of knowing him had been a blur, a wild and crazy journey of discovery, now it was over. No muse to kiss me, no friend to share my thoughts with - gone. To make it all worse, only when it was over had I fully understood that I really did love him. So even though the weeks had passed, my chest still held that raw feeling. Of course I'd thought about it all such a lot -- what it had meant, why I had got so swept up by it. Maybe my friends had had it right -- this feeling that I craved from submission, that of complete union with another, maybe it was a spiritual craving after all.

Ah, spirituality - I'd been there, I'd done that. It had been a mess. Years of joyful paganism had collapsed into bad sex with an impotent, deranged old man. Threats, curses, power struggles -- all for what? Some strange fantasy? I'd turned my back on that years ago and I'd promised myself not to go back. But the yearning was there, my heart's hunger, my body's hunger or perhaps my soul's? Who knows, who knows what these things mean?

I jumped a little as my phone vibrated in my pocket. One message. Just an email notification from the swinging website. I was annoyed for that stupid split second for which I'd hoped it would be him, even more annoyed for that sinking feeling of disappointment. Oh well, I thought, I might as well look at it now. Anything would beat staring out of the window pretending to work.

I looked at the miniature screen. 'Banshee? What a strange ID!' I hadn't seen it before -- it looked like it belonged to a single girl. I went on to read her message.

"Hi, I really liked your profile. I've read your blog and you look like a woman of my own heart. I was particularly interested in your spiritual insights about submissiveness. I have a feeling we may have a lot to say to each other. My instant messenger ID is banshee@xmail.uk. Get in touch if you're interested."

I took a look at her profile, but there was only minimal information there: no interests, no photos. Age 30, female, bisexual. It's the kind of profile I would normally ignore -- if people can't be bothered to make the effort! Most likely a single guy in disguise or somebody just interested in chatting rather than meeting. Anyway, whoever she was, she seemed to be based in Devon, a couple of hundred miles away. So I closed it all down and left it. But over the course of the weekend my thoughts kept returning to that brief message. Banshee... mmmm. And what strange serendipity.

I'm a sucker for serendipity. Like most of us I find comfort in the thought that there may be some meaning, some pattern to our random movements through this life. So when things crop up just as they are working their way through my own consciousness, I perk up. It's like there's something about them that's too intriguing to ignore, some fateful opportunity that I might ignore at my loss. It's probably a lot of irrational rubbish, but you can't ever quite take the romance out of the girl.

So come Sunday evening I thought "Fuck it! What's the harm in an online chat?" Ok, there we go: log in Eva, appear offline, add contact. I copied banshee's email address into the window and clicked ok. My invitation was accepted almost instantly and Banshee appeared on my list of contacts. She was online! My heart started beating a little faster. My mouse hovered over my status button. I hesitated, nerves churning up my stomach and clicked "available". I waited. Was she going to message me first -- or would it have to be me? Minutes passed and I did little but scrutinise the screen of my laptop. It looked like it was going to have to be me. I started typing.

Eva said: "Hi Banshee, it's Eva. Thank you for your message -- I'm intrigued!" Another deep breath and "enter".

A couple of seconds passed until the window said "Banshee is writing..."

Banshee said: "Hi Eva, glad you got in touch."

Eva said: "So you have some thoughts on spirituality and submission you wanted to share?"

Banshee said: "Was thinking more of an experience."

I raised my eyebrows. She certainly wasn't wasting any time - none of the usual "who are you, what are your preferences". I thought I probably ought to be treading carefully here, but actually it was already too late. The tingle of excitement, adventure and the unknown had grabbed me for the first time in weeks. I'd missed it, I needed it like breathing and I certainly wasn't going to let go of it now that it was within my reach. So the devil in me typed:

"I am open to suggestions."

And so it was that only a couple of weeks later I found myself on a train. It was the spring equinox weekend and I was going to Devon. Banshee and I had talked for a little while longer that night. We'd even seen each other on cam briefly to verify that we both were who we said we were. She had been rather mysterious however and had not wanted me to see her face. But from what I'd seen of her body she was undeniably a woman and a beautiful one at that. I hadn't learnt much else about her, but she had invited me to share an experience with her, although what that experience would entail she hadn't wanted to say. All I had was a set of map coordinates matching a hill in deepest darkest Dartmoor, and a time at which to be there on the evening of the equinox. Everything else would be made clear to me on arrival - or perhaps not, as she'd written with a wink.

This girl clearly had a grasp of what made me tick. Little wonder perhaps, given that I regularly poured my heart out about it on my blog. Of course that rather put me at a disadvantage in that I knew nothing about her and she knew many of my intimate thoughts. But if I was honest - that was also how I liked it. It set up a tingling dynamic between us right from the beginning, already nudging me towards that thrilling place of submission.

I left my B&B early the next morning. No full English breakfast for me. My instructions were to fast for the day. I set off with my map and compass heading due north into Dartmoor. It was a bright morning - lucky - unusual. No matter how good an experience this was going to be this evening, I had no doubt that having it in the pissing rain could destroy it quite easily. The first few miles were an easy path, making for easy hiking. I love walking - I spend the early part of any walk letting my mind rattle around. After every thought is thought, there's just walking, pure unadulterated walking. My body moving, feet sensing the stones on the path, my lungs taking in the clear air, the weak spring sunshine just tickling my face. I kept going north, following the undulating path up onto exposed hilltops and down into soggy valley bottoms.

After a rest at midday, I turned off the main path and headed for the tallest of the Tors due west. It was still some distance away, but the rock formation that topped it was quite distinctive and I didn't think I'd have any trouble reaching it. But I hadn't factored in the difficulty of cross-country walking. Soon my feet were sinking deep into the sphagnum moss and even my walking boots could only keep the damp out for so long. There were big mires which took much time to cross, as I had to try and pick out the dry land from the waterlogged ground. I hadn't eaten, I hadn't slept well and trudging through the moors was starting to wear me out. Time passed and I barely felt much closer to the Tor in the distance. The sun kept following its inevitable trail, dropping lower and lower on the horizon. As it did so, the mist started rising from the moors. I was getting quite concerned now -- no, actually I was scared. People got lost in the moors like this all the time and I was a very poor map reader -- my compass skills weren't up to much either. I summoned what energy reserves I had to speed up as much as I could, checking my compass neurotically often, just to make sure I was still heading in the right direction. Before long the mists had drawn in fully.

It was shocking how different the moors felt without the sunshine and without a view. The atmosphere had shifted entirely. I worked hard to keep rationalising. The eerie quiet was nothing but a result of the mist swallowing all sound, this was just some primal human fear hitting me. But once anxious, it's a hard job to keep out the threatening thoughts. What if I got lost? What if Banshee never turned up? What if someone else was waiting for me instead? I clutched on to the compass readings, trying to banish those thoughts from my head. I caught a glimpse of a rock formation to my left. My heart did a little jump of relief as I went straight towards it. My feet followed the rising slope and after half an hour of tough climbing I had reached the top. I scrambled up the rock and looked around. There was nobody here, no sign of anyone having been here at all. I scrambled back down, walked all around the rocks. Nothing! Panic was starting to get hold of me, as tears burned in my eyes. I felt utterly alone. What the fuck had I been thinking of, this was so stupid! The wind had picked up and had started to tear the mist up in places. Beyond the mist, dusk was falling and the moon was rising due east. East? East! Then it struck me, this was the wrong hill! I'd seen the rocks and jumped to conclusions -- I should never have come away from my compass bearings. I started running back down the hill in what I thought was the right direction. I stumbled a couple of times, tripped up by rocky erratics in the moss. I was wet now, cold, battered. Eventually I was back down at the valley bottom. This looked like the spot at which I had left the path. Just straight ahead now! The slope started rising once more. I was so tired, my feet were dragging, just a little longer...I reached the rock formation at the top. It formed a natural cradle, with a flat low stone in the middle. I checked the compass, I checked the map, this was it! This had to be right!

I called out, "Anyone here?"

I was embarrassed by the shakiness in my voice. But no one answered. There was no one here. I could hear nothing but the howling of the wind.

I sank down on the flat central stone in exhaustion. I couldn't hold the tears in any longer. My eyes were burning as the tears quietly streamed down my flushed face. I curled myself into a ball on the stone, closing my hands over my ears to keep the howling sound away. The stone was cold and hard. There wasn't enough power in the spring sun yet for it to have retained any heat. I knew I should grab my backpack, change my clothes to get warm. But I was spent, I was so tired. And the howling just wouldn't stop. It just kept getting louder, shriller, like vibrations permeating my body. The wind was swirling around me now, tugging at my clothes. I screwed my eyes shut.

'Please make it stop, please make it stop', I kept saying to myself in my head, over and over again, but there was no stopping. I was buffeted by the wind and I knew I had to move, but didn't dare look. I raised my head just by an inch or so and peered out from under my arms. It was as if the wind had grabbed the mist which was now swirling around me, forming shapes. I could see faces almost, arms, hands, fingers. I hid my face again.

'Come on Eva, don't be ridiculous. You're just seeing things. It's not real; it's just the wind and the mist.'

But then I felt it. Felt hands in my hair, hands tugging at my clothes. I started crying again, genuinely terrified. My head was swimming as I came up into a kneeling position.

"Stop, please stop!" I pleaded with the wind.

But there was no stopping. The sensation of touching and tugging continued. As my body was being buffeted more and more, I struggled to stay upright. I wrestled with myself, all the time pleading and not even knowing with what or whom. But I was so tired and the wind was so strong. I couldn't fight it. It was pitch black now, what narrow moon there had been in the sky had been swallowed by the mist. I felt myself starting to sway in the wind, my body undulating with it, not against it. I had nothing left, I couldn't fight anymore. I could do nothing but lean into it, letting it take me. Hands in my hair, hands around my waist, holding my breasts, stroking, grabbing, tugging, moving me this way, then the other. My whole body was bathed in sensation, pleasurable almost, now that I was allowing it to happen. I was easing into it ever more deeply now. I was no longer cold and the familiar flushed feeling of arousal was starting to permeate my body. Small moans of pleasure were escaping my throat.

Suddenly sharp pain seared across my back. I screamed. It was as though claws were tearing into my back. I reached around to find my fleece torn and my bare back exposed. The touching was no longer arousing, I was pushed and pulled and whatever it was just kept tearing into me. I kept trying to escape the next attack but I could never predict where it would come from. I held on to the rock for dear life. I started to feel dizzy and lightheaded with the intensity. My clothes were being torn to pieces until they fell away, torn to shreds. My back was on fire. I heard myself moaning and screaming and then sobbing, when suddenly everything ceased.

From one second to the next the night was perfectly still. No wind, no wailing, no clawing. Even the mist seemed to have suddenly lifted. I could see the moors stretch out below me for the first time, faintly illuminated by the sickle moon. All I could hear was the laboured sound of my own breathing. I let myself sink back against the cold stone, now welcoming the way it was soothing my hot skin. 'God, what was that?' I wondered. I closed my eyes for a moment, my breathing still settling down. I could feel the soreness in my throat. I must have been screaming more than I had realised. I was also entirely naked. I was still feeling light-headed, endorphins rushing through my system, my body somehow unable to move.

I just lay there watching the wisps of remnant cloud passing across the moon. It seemed to me as if they formed patterns, deer running, twisting and turning spirals, strange archetypal figures running across the sky and horns, always horns. One of the shapes became clearer, more solid somehow, like a dark shadow manifesting itself out of thin cloud. It grew larger in my field of view - a solid tall male shape, deer antlers sprouting from its forehead. A kernel of fear started to pulsate in my stomach, my instincts told me to back away. I tried to push myself up from the stone, but felt unable to move. Something (or someone?) was pinning me down, holding my shoulders with an iron grasp. I knew what this had to be: the clawed wailing demon that had torn into me. I could feel the sharp edges of its claws pressing into my skin, not piercing it now, because it was choosing not to, not because I could have stopped it. The shadow in front of me now blotted out any shred of moonlight. My thighs were grasped and spread wide open. A small whimper of fear escaped my throat, but I didn't dare move. What was more, I was swept up by a wave of potent arousal. I was being held down and opened up and there was nothing I could or wanted to do about it. The head of his hard cock made contact with my outer lips. He hit my wetness there and slid upwards, slithering across my clit, making me shudder. He moved back downwards again, until he lodged his cockhead into my entrance. I could feel its weight and width there, exerting a slow but tantalising pressure. I moaned with pure pleasure for the first time that night. My hips were yearning to move towards him, to meet him, to be filled by him, but he was teasing me, barely moving, yet moving enough to make my pussy weep with moisture. Then he withdrew. A draft of cold air passed my hot cunt. The sudden emptiness almost made me want to weep.

"No, please, please, come back, please fuck me!"

Soft words were whispered into my ear.

"Now, now, little girl, who's making demands on the Horned One now? Is that your place?"

My shoulders had been released and the sharp claws were caressing my chest and shoulders now, trailing circles around my breasts one moment, being drawn gently across my throat the next.

"No, no of course not. Forgive me!" But I knew my voice was still pleading every bit as much.

"Surrender yourself, little one! Let go! Surrender to the elements, surrender to yourself! Stop fighting, stop yearning. Receive!"

The voice was soft and hypnotic and the claws were still drawing on my skin, half caressing, half threatening me.

I let me body rest, rest into the stone more deeply, become soft until it felt like my bones were melting. Just breathing, breathing. They were both still there, I could sense their presence. I became soft open, entirely vulnerable. I let all the defences, all the fears and all the desires sink into the stone until nothing there was nothing left but my naked soul. I became theirs.

His cock returned to nudge at my entrance, teasing me as before, but this time it was almost unbearably sweet. Sensation shot through me and I heard myself sob, as though from a long distance. Lips touched mine from above and behind, soft, warm. Gentle claws now teased my nipples until I was almost beside myself. He withdrew once more, leaving me empty, leaving me aching. The lips suddenly clasped down on my mouth, biting my bottom lip with a passion and intensity so overwhelming that it absorbed all my attention. I tried to pull away to save my bruising lips, when his cock crashed into me fierce and deep and hard. My body jumped and bucked. I could taste blood on my lips and my insides ached as he thundered into me with merciless ferocity. I moaned and screamed with pleasure-pain as he kept driving into me and the demon clawed at my breasts. It was too much. I couldn't take it, I wanted to fight them. But the voice kept echoing in my head. "Surrender, surrender..."

So I let go, just let go. The pain became nothing but sensation, nothing but energy, building in my belly, building towards orgasm. The boundaries of my body started to dissolve and there was nothing more but his presence thundering into mine, and her presence (of course, hers!) pervading us both. Together we were building and building, spiralling, lifting, the wind howling around us once more. When the climax came it was thunderous, it took my swirling belly with it and threw it into the sky.

I awoke the next morning when the first rays of sunlight tickled my nose. I raised my head and looked around. My body was wrapped in a sleeping bag and I was wedged warmly and snugly between to sleeping bodies, one dark haired and petite, the other solid and muscular. I smiled.