Jungian Slip

We met through mutual friends at one of the local clubs and ended up copulating hours later in a rubber sheathed, cum-lubricated, writhing mass. I figured he was just another fetishist like me, wired so that his individuality had to be stripped away through the application of expensive latex garments and role playing. I soon discovered there was more to it than that for Xan.

I’m stronger than most women I know. Most men too. I’ve never understood why people always choose me to glom onto--maybe because I don’t say much. Maybe because I listen and understand what people say to me. You never realize how rare an ability that is in the world until you’re looking for it yourself. But Xan sure was looking for it, and the things he wanted someone to understand weren’t the type of things you brought up even within the confines of a fetish club. So, after nine months of courtship, he took me into his dungeon to tell me.

I’ve always found it difficult when people decide to trust me, especially people like Xan. Of course his name’s not Xan, but that’s who he is, at least in his own mind and mine. By day he was a problem solver for some government think tank, in possession of a genius that still scares the hell out of me. But when he got into one of his outfits he became Xan, and until that fateful day, I’d thought Xan was just some mental construct he used to alleviate the stress of being the team leader that his job required.

The night he finally told me was so Jungian for me, like it was the culmination of all the myths I’d grown up with that spoke to me. The missing sense of belonging, the darkness of my thoughts, the need for authority, for abuse, for pleasure, the need to feel in control and to lose control were all summed up there in Xan in that moment in that room. As my heart pounded, my blood raced and the fragrance of rubber and bodily secretions filled my head with anticipation, Xan told me what he was doing with his spare time.

“I’m building an empire, Molly,” he said as he sat in his throne there in the dark, the gleam of his rubber catsuit the only direct illumination. He looked so regal, so powerful in that moment. His voice held a timber I’d not yet heard in our several months together.

I said nothing, not really sure of what to say. I was too busy feeling the rush caused by the mood of the moment, by the constriction of my own head to toe latex catsuit. My Scorpio intuition gave me a feel for what was coming next.

“I’m building an underground empire, and I want you to be my Queen. I’ve been working on this for years. This will be a self-sustaining financial entity, unseen and unsensed by the normal people.”

I didn’t believe it at first. I figured he was just working me up cerebrally. I was excited, but I had to draw this moment out, savor it for as long as possible. “Is this an underground club you’re talking about?”

“Much bigger than that, Molly. Along with a number of underground clubs, I’ve bought several apartment buildings and houses in several cities. I’ve started and bought several high-tech companies that have profit margins Microsoft would envy. I’ve been slowly meeting the kind of people that I think can appreciate what I’m trying to do and have brought them in as partners.”

“And what is it you’re trying to do, Xan?” I could feel the hot wetness coming, the strength of his voice pulling it from me. Still I thought it a game.

“I’m trying to make it so that we don’t have to bother with this uptight, inefficient society any longer. I’m trying to create a Utopian system that will take care of people like us and allow for unlimited pleasure, unlimited ecstasy.”

In that moment, I knew he was mad, but I also knew he wasn’t kidding. His voice reflected some kind of hurt that went far back into his past, and I knew that this whole plan was in response to something someone or some group of people had done to him. It brought a whole new level of understanding to me of Xan, and it’s then that I realized he loved me. He was giving me real power over him. Not just the power of latex submission, but the intellectual power that one gives out of love.

And earlier, as I’d carefully worked myself into my tightest rubber catsuit, I knew that a ritual had begun. Standing there before him on his throne, with my arms sheathed tightly behind my back, I knew something was coming, but not what. When he requested the catsuit, it usually meant an intense night of unleashed sex, a high intensity workout after a soul numbing day at the office. But the air was charged now, and I knew we’d moved into new terrain. Just the fact that he’d bound me, that he’d taken control, told me Xan himself had crossed a barrier in his mind. Neurons fired throughout my whole body with anticipation of the unknown.

He rose now, and moved towards me slowly with a strength in his frame that I’d always known was there but had never seen. Stopping before me, he looked upon me with such a blend of love and intensity that my knees almost buckled. Had the dominant themes I’d made him live under bred this new creature of confidence and pure vision?

“You’ve proven yourself to me. You’ve opened your mind to me, your heart. You have a keen intellect and a cruel side that you know how to control. Do you wish now to become a part of this new world? Do you wish now to become my Queen, as responsible for the happiness of our people as am I?” The stillness of the dark room was absolute. I could hear the beat of my own heart, my heavy breath. Surreal and exciting was that moment in time. I didn’t even know for certain how serious all this was, didn’t even know what would be happen if I answered on way or the other. His submissiveness had always been a strength for me, but for him to turn it around on me so fast…

“Yes,” I finally managed to reply in between gulps of air, my voice strong and sure. “I wish to become your Queen.”

And then someone grabbed my bound wrists from behind. I smelled the scent of another woman, of rubber mixed with female smells. Now the ecstasy was building as did the ritualistic feel. But she wasn’t the only one in the room besides Xan and myself. Other black-clad figures lurked in the darkness. Fire kindled in burners on either end of the throne dais, and two PVC-clad men, fully hooded and faceless, brought in a smaller, more feminine chair to set beside Xan’s blocky throne.

Besides scenarios at the club, he’d never brought anyone else into our personal sessions. This was new. Of course I’d been with other women and participated in orgies, but in my mind I KNEW that he was serious now, and I audibly gasped. It sounded like a cry in that almost silent room.

A sultry, wicked-looking woman materialized from the blackness then, her two crystal blue eyes staring straight into me from a white latex-framed face. A massive, five pointed star with a rune in the middle hung in the cleft between two perfect, naked breasts. All she wore was a white pony hood, rubber leggings and opera gloves. I knew she was the High Priestess. In one rubber gloved hand there was a knife and in the other a red hot branding iron. I tightened at the sight of those two items, as did the grip of the girl who I knew now was one of the priestesses, assistant to this witch before me.

The High Priestess was beautiful, radiating pagan power. The feel of her energy surrounded this event, and I knew that it was she who had designed the system under which this ritual would flow. The figures in the shadows sat perfectly still as she approached me, not daring to breathe.

“The sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light in the darkness of mere being,” she intoned ritualistically. “Do you wish now to become Queen and mother protector of The Misfit Perverse? Saying yes, you must shed your mundane life and serve here in your court.”

For several heartbeats I faltered, wondering just what I was getting myself into. I’d always believed in pushing myself to the next level, but this seemed a drop into a deep sea. In the flash of a second, I reviewed the life I now lived, weighed its normalcy and security against the bizarre opportunity now encapsulated within this space of time. Through the pain focused on the tip of that iron, a doorway would open, and the very fact that I was so turned on and wet by the idea brought the revelation of my strangeness in the world I was being asked to let go of. Had I walked away from The High Priestess that day, regret would have caused in me the only pain unpleasurable.

“Yes,” I breathed, my chest heaving as the blood raced hot in my veins. “I wish it.”

Immediately, with a practiced hand, the High Priestess slashed out at my right thigh, shearing the rubber cleanly, drawing only a small scratch producing blood. Faster than I could react, she stabbed with the branding iron, burning flesh and cauterizing the wound.

I screamed louder than I ever had, shattering the silence of the room like a pane of glass, the scream of a newborn. All sensation drained into the pain of that wound, and I felt myself climax through it. Strong arms held my slumped form, prevented me from collapsing as tears poured from my eyes and my breath grew ragged. The pain was almost too intense. I looked down to see a rune burned onto my flesh, the same rune as the one hanging between the Priestess’ breasts: Ox, Strength. Maybe this was just Xan’s way of paying me back for my domination of him. But he knew me better than anyone. This was a gift of his love.

When I finally lifted my head weakly, he was there beside me, the High Priestess standing before him with knife and smoldering branding iron, a Priestess encased from head to toe in black rubber holding him from behind. I had just missed what the High Priestess had said. Xan stared into my eyes. “The pains I deliver I also endure,” he replied to the unheard question.

“A person who has not passed through the inferno of their passions has never overcome them,” intoned the High Priestess. “Do you vow to provide the inferno?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“Where love rules, there is no will to power and where power predominates, love is lacking. The one is the shadow of the other. Do you vow to rule justly, to give sanctuary to the perverse?”

“I do.”

And again she slashed and stabbed, bringing the smell of burning skin to the darkness. But Xan didn’t cry out, he only winced. His Priestess held him fast as the pain crossed his face. With that our priestesses released us from our bonds. And our old lives.

“Now do I release your power unto you,” said the High Priestess, smiling. She took our hands and placed them in each other’s. “I give you our King and Queen!!” she yelled to the gathered audience. A loud cheer went up from many uncounted mouths.

Xan looked at me then and smiled. He drew me to him and kissed me with love and lust mingled evenly. I returned his emotions, aware that my life would never be the same again.

I took the name Queen Zia, and with Xan and our court we wrote a Constitution of our own, outlining the laws and ideals under which our people would be ruled. The final draft was sent all over the world via the internet to all of our people.

Our court was now active. During the first week the royal seamstresses measured us and produced flowing, royal garments of leather, latex and PVC in which we dispensed our justice. The selection process for the high positions took the longest and most wonderful time. We chose with not just our eyes, but our intellect and hearts. The finest leather and latex craftsmen and women worked hard to clothe our court, Dukes and Duchesses representing each territory throughout the world where our realm was establishing itself underground. Xan and I spent many nights and days conferring with them our desires with voices and our bodies. There would be no tyrants in our Utopia.

There in Xan’s basement, our temporary seat of power, we personally screened applicants from our underground populace for the positions of Inquisitors, the men and women who would enforce the code by which our people pledged allegiance to before their branding. The orgies lasted weeks before our decisions were finally made. And in the end, we had them clothed in wicked uniforms of latex and steel, easily identifiable to our citizens, utterly arousing in their design. It pained me to release them from the royal chambers at last.

Then came the difficult and arduous process of bringing new members into our fold. Hand selected by Xan and myself, they came from all over the globe to petition admittance into our ecstasy-drenched world. It took weeks to screen them all, so many luscious bodies and souls begging to be under us, serving our utopian designs. My days melted into one another, each moment filled with sensory inputs that I’d only dreamed of. My entire world became one long orgasm, with brief periods of sleep or food to keep my body fit enough to go on with the carnal feast.

Until a year had gone by, and still I expected it to end. But it didn’t. I sat in my throne one day, a latex-encased eunuch at my crotch even as Xan kissed me deeply. A bound, hooded woman was on her knees, servicing him and he chose then to speak words to me.

“You are everything I’ve wanted in a Queen and more, Zia. You rule our people as a true brood mother.” We’d stopped using our Christian names long ago.

Words I’d wanted to say came into my mind, but the pleasure which burned hotly within me vaporized them. I giggled erotically at what he’d said, grabbing his latex-hooded head and kissing him more deeply in response. I had him to thank for my absolute power and unending ecstasy. I no longer trusted words as strongly as the power of my body to convey my feelings. In this world, sexual power was The Law, and I’d become a creature of pure sexual power and precision. I owed it all to this man. Yet even through the waves of pleasure, I knew his words held more meaning then I was ready to perceive.

The next day Inquisitors delivered to us two CIA agents who’d tried to infiltrate our underworld. In real life they were husband and wife, two agents recruited by the Feds for this special assignment. But they’d bitten off more than they could chew, that was apparent.

Xan watched silently as I’d begun the interrogation there before the royal court. Some of the court wore full masks to hide their identities, but I was confident that these two would pose no threat once they’d been broken. And I knew that I could break them. They hadn’t taken this assignment for love of country.

They were actually quite beautiful, agent Fox and Mulder I named them. Their real names mattered little any longer. Standing there, so proud in their boring, Skin Two PVC catsuits, I could smell their excitement, their curiosity, their fear.

“What does the government know about us?” I asked from my throne, wearing my most comfortable royal garment, a liquid-glossy black latex catsuit. Only my cruel face showed any sign that I was a human being. A silver, ornate crown sat upon my hooded head. Next to me Xan wore a similar outfit, with only the crown differing. He watched intently, as aroused as I was.

Of course neither of them answered. The court sat silently, anticipating what was to come next. They’d witnessed interrogations, and the buzz of sexual energy intoxicated me. I slowly rose and approached them. The Inquisitors backed away as I moved in on them.

“You must know enough to have wanted this assignment,” I walked closely to Fox, who tried to pretend he wasn’t intrigued. “No one takes an assignment like this without being at least a little interested in what we’re doing down here.” I walked around him, brushed his ass with my hand, let it pass along across Mulder’s. “In this place, you can experience so much ecstasy in a day that it’s easy to think you’ve used up your life’s allotment. You can have your every fantasy fulfilled in a span of hours.” I walked around to face Mulder. She met my eyes, and in them I saw her fear, her excitement. She was my key to turning them. “I think it’s time you experienced a lack of control, agent Mulder.”

I raised but a finger and encased eunuchs moved up quickly from the shadows, a frame between them, chains clanking from the metalwork. I’ll give Mulder credit, she never broke eye contact with me as they wheeled it up and secured her to the frame. I knew I had her. But I hadn’t counted on the husband.

Perhaps it was the room’s realization that I’d broken her that allowed him to do it, but before anyone could react, Fox had hurled himself into one of the Inquisitors. The one with his confiscated gun. CIA training must be good these days. He took down my Chief Inquisitor with two precise punches. Another blink of an eye and the 9mm was in his hand, blasting a slug into the Deputy Chief Inquisitor’s thigh. The whole room contracted with a combined gasp.

Fox stood there, panting in the only light of the room, the collar of the catsuit torn, hanging as he pointed the automatic at me. The Chief Inquisitor was groaning slightly in the corner, trying to get his shit together. Everyone had receded into the shadows for safety. Only Xan and I and Mulder were in the light, and only Fox looked nervous.

“Release my wife and back the fuck away from her, you perverted bitch!” he yelled.

I’ll never forget that moment. It was the moment I became everything Xan thought I was. I looked in Mulder’s eyes and smiled. “And supposing I don’t, CIA man? Are you going to shoot me?”

I turned to look at him, realized that he was more turned on than I was. I moved towards him, ever so slowly, like a spider towards a fly. He pointed the gun right at my head, but I felt such a power in that moment that I could feel that power surrounding me like a projection of pure will. If I’d willed him to put the gun to his head he would have. But I knew my people were watching.

“You haven’t killed anyone yet. It’s not too late,” I said in my most sultry voice. I stopped before him and looked him full in the eyes, careful to strike my best pose, with hands on cocked hips. “Is their world really worth fighting for anymore? You’ve lived among us long enough to know that the only cruelty in our world is there for the pleasure of those who seek it. We have no violence except for those who desire it. The strength of your will can give you unbridled ecstasy here. No one will treat you like a freak for living out your fantasies. All you have to do is submit to me now and you need never feel like an outsider again.”

The gun hung limp in his hand, and I saw the bulge at his crotch. I almost had him. A raised finger brought women from the shadows, masked members of the court in bizarre hoods, corsets, attachments. They came from behind to place rubber hands upon him. Lips kissed his neck, rubbed him, coaxed him. Still the gun pointed at me.

“You don’t need to hang onto that world now that you know about this one. You can be one of us complete.” I moved in closer, palms forward. I stopped before the gun’s barrel so that I could see the rifling, the word “Glock” on the slide. I felt lighter than air. I saw him cock the hammer, ever so slowly. The room stopped breathing.

“NO!!!” screamed Mulder behind me. The whole room exhaled as one. I couldn’t see Mulder, but I could hear the rhythm of her breathing, and knew how hot she was right now, hanging from the frame with arms over head. “Roy, don’t do it. I want to stay! I want to stay!” Something in her voice wrenched at my heart like nothing had since I’d become Queen. It was a little girl, an old woman and a desperate soul crying for salvation. I knew in that moment why Xan had created this world. It was for all the Mulders in the world, wanting to believe but needing a space where they could believe. I realized then how fucked up our race had become. It made me angry for some reason, embarrassed and sad all at the same time. It hardened me like a pillar of stone.

I gathered myself up and exuded all my will upon Fox at that moment. I put my gleaming palm out for the gun and he placed it there with his breath coming in gulps. I passed the gun off to one of the eunuchs and extended my hand once more, inviting him into our world. Rubber met rubber and I pulled him to my lips, slipping my tongue past the tightness. He threw me to the floor and mounted me there in the middle of the court in his haste. My people came from the shadows once more, clustered closely now, their grins matching my own as Fox fucked his way into our ranks. My people knew my power in that moment, and I knew as his thick member slid in and out of me hard that the legend this moment spawned would bind our people for a hundred years at least. I laughed, throwing my head back in time to see Xan approach Mulder and insert himself into her from behind. Only pleasure came from the throat that minutes before had cried in desperation. We’d saved these two lost souls as well as the collective soul of our world on that night. The court joined together in orgy even as hot waves of pleasure rushed through my being.

When I awoke to find Xan gone the next day, the emotion of surprise eluded me. We’d both slept nude that night, had made passionate, almost desperate love for hours and slept in each others embrace. I laid alone, staring at the mirrored ceiling, looking at the strange, white form that stared at me, feeling more alone than I ever had in my life. He was gone. And so was that white form above me.

Some called me a black widow, and claimed I’d sucked the life from his being, like the dark goddess some were beginning to see me as. Those closest to the origins of our world knew he’d left of his own volition. Some even knew why, even as I do. And when the new recruits are brought before my solitary throne, and I put each petitioner to the test, the knowledge that Xan might be one of them drives me on.

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22.03.13