Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. Another Day In Limbo Sometimes things just can't be helped. Sometimes schedules are changed through no one's fault. Sometimes one's physical health puts aspects of life on hold. It's no one's fault. It's no one's intent. Sometimes it's easy to deal with. Sometime's...it's not. The day held the promise of relief from the terrible tension that had become nearly intolerable. The hunger that gnawed at my mind and body would be fed today. Mistress's friend was stopping by today for a visit with Her and a session with me. As I went about the morning straightening the house and getting things ready, I thought about the strain current circumstances has put on my relationship with Mistress. Just now, She has some problems that don't allow much in the way of b/d in O/our lives. W/we are in a 24/7 relationship. W/we care very deeply for one another. I think She feels the tension and stress as much as I do. I also think She handles it much better. The trappings of the `lifestyle' are everywhere...constant reminders. The cane in the closet. The hooks in the ceiling. The horse under the bed. The box of toys. The shelf of books. The adapted toothbrush charging in the bathroom. I try - and with little success - not to think about them. Mistress Herself. For awhile, it's manageable. Eventually, though, I can no longer ignore the need that rises ever more strongly. It begins to take on a life of it's own in my mind. It becomes an obsession. It haunts my thoughts and turns my world grey. It grows daily and becomes such a heavy load to carry. So, She very generously allows me to be with another Dominant from time to time. Today is such a day. I stand in the shower as the warm water flows over me and try to calm the anticipation I feel. As I wash and shave and smooth lotion over my body, I become hyper aware of the touch of my own fingers on my skin. I've put on the underwear He has requested....red bra and panties. They've been altered to His specifications...holes cut for my nipples to poke through...a long slit in the crotch to expose my cunt. I finish dressing. He has allowed me to dress fully today. It will be later than ususal when He arrives. I go next to the box of toys. He has directed me to choose something with which He can `torture me'. My fingers linger over various straps and ropes, whips and paddles. I make my choice. I pick up the cat-o-nine tails. It's not a large one but the tails are braided and tied in small knots on each end. I know its touch and shiver as I run one hand along its handle. I place it on the top of the box. It's nearly time for Him to arrive and I take a seat on the bed next to Mistress's chair. She smiles at me and I understand that She is aware of my need for this. I'm also aware that it must cost Her to allow it. I know She enjoys being my Domme. I know that, between U/us, it is love-making in the truest sense of the word. I know She misses being able to play Her role greatly. She has told me that She does enjoy watching and that it is the next best thing. Still, I think it is difficult for Her. I wonder if She realizes how much I appreciate Her generosity. I've thanked Her often for it but there just aren't words sufficient enough to express the depth of my gratitude. I come to the realization that today is not going to work out as planned. I know the time He will have to leave here and know it will not allow a session. My pulse pounds as the knowledge sinks into my brain. I feel the frustration rise to an even higher level as the hunger within me roars. Mistress's words echoed my thoughts. She tells me to understand that there would not be much time and that He doubtless got held up somewhere. I could only nod that I understood. I struggled to keep my composure and hide what I felt. Eventually, . I stand in the shower as the warm water flows over me and try to calm the anticipation I feel. As I wash and shave and smooth lotion over my body, I become hyper aware of the touch of my own fingers on my skin. I've put on the underwear He has requested....red bra and panties. They've been altered to His specifications...holes cut for my nipples to poke through...a long slit in the crotch to expose my cunt. I finish dressing. He has allowed me to dress fully today. It will be later than ususal when He arrives. I go next to the box of toys. He has directed me to choose something with which He can `torture me'. My fingers linger over various straps and ropes, whips and paddles. I make my choice. I pick up the cat-o-nine tails. It's not a large one but the tails are braided and tied in small knots on each end. I know its touch and shiver as I run one hand along its handle. I place it on the top of the box. It's nearly time for Him to arrive and I take a seat on the bed next to Mistress's chair. Bit by bit, I just dropped myself out of the conversation. To be so close and to see this chance go up in smoke had left me reeling. I blamed no one. Plans don't always work out. I was not prepared for the terrible reaction I was having. I felt the sting of threatening tears. I excused myself on the premise of using the restroom. I closed the door and sat...my head in my hands as I struggled to overcome what raged inside me. This was not anger. This was not hurt feelings. This was something I could not control...something primal in nature that threatened to drag me into its den and devour me. I heard Them still talking and knew I'd have to go back out and face Them. Mistress's words filtered through the door. I understood enough of them to know She was talking to Him about me. She was asking Him, in essence, to give me a `quickie' although She didn't use that word. Instead of me being glad about it, I - humiliated and embarrassed probably describe my feelings best - wanted nothing more than to find a deep hole and crawl into it. My now irrational mind was thrown into further turmoil. There was nothing wrong in Her request of Him. She did it, I'm sure, solely with the best of intentions and for nothing more than my benefit. But, at the time, I wasn't thinking in those terms...I was past thinking. "Have only your underwear on when you come out of there" He said. "Yes, Sir", I answered. I did as told and came out with my head lowered to stand in front of Him. The only thing I could do now was rely on habit....do what He said, react to what He did. I reminded myself that, after all, this was the very thing I had wanted so badly. I couldn't cope with the conflict in my mind. I could only give up my body and let Him use it as He would. He cuffed my wrists and ankles and guided me face down on the bed. He asked what instrument I had chosen and I told Him. The blindfold was slipped over my head and He went to get it. He didn't use it first though. His hand landed loud and hard on my ass and immediately my mind and body switched their focus. "Feed", my mind said, "take what He gives you and relish each morsel." Without anymore thought, I centered entirely on Him. The hand fell on the other side of my ass and I raised it in supplication for more. I was rewarded with another pair. Then He began with the whip. Soft strokes touched me and gradually increased....but not nearly as far as I wished. He did this for a few minutes. His hand found it's way between my legs when the lash stopped. I was very soon stimulated to the point of asking to cum. Permission was given. I did have an intense climax....followed by another and another as His fingers continued to work in my cunt and on my clit. He sat me up then and unzipped His pants. I sucked His cock and balls as directed and felt Him stiffen and lengthen in my mouth. But He withdrew Himself without cumming. I was brought to more climaxes and, when He'd finished, was laying on my back on the bed, catching my breath. I heard Him zip His pants back up. I didn't move much. My head was in turmoil again. I cannot deny how much I enjoyed what He'd done and felt gratitude for it. But...I couldn't escape the notion that it was a `mercy beating' of sorts. I finally sat up on the bed so that I could say good-bye to Him. And then He was gone and I was left with my own thoughts and Mistress asking if I'd enjoyed myself. I answered Her honestly that I had but told Her no more of my thoughts. I couldn't have made them sound anything close to rational. I felt rather like a starving man sitting before a magnificent banquet who'd been given half a slice of bread to satisfy him. The bread tasted wonderful and he was enormously grateful for what he'd been given. But...it was not nearly enough to satisfy him. His hunger had not abated. The delicate morsels had only left him more ravenous. I'm always wrung out after that many orgasms and it became an excuse not to talk very much and rest a bit. My thoughts were still swirling. I fell into the self-pity trap. And that's the worst part of it. On one hand, I knew how very fortunate I am to be with Mistress and to have Her care for me as much as I care for Her. On the other, I just felt sorry for Her and myself and the situation in which W/we currently find O/ourselves. The day moved on and, perhaps thinking She was making it up to me, She touched me often and gently. At one point, She pleasured me repeatedly. And, for some spaces of time, my thoughts were quiet. They would not stay quiet, though, no matter how hard I fought against them. I spent much of the afternoon trying to come to terms with myself. I was beginning, and not for the first time, have my submissiveness...the turn of mind that causes my need for pain...the perverseness of my nature. The day was nearly over and it was getting close to bedtime. I'd thought it would actually, finally, end and I could lose myself in the vacuum of sleep. But that would not be the case. There was another obstacle in the offing. The phone rang and She was speaking with another Dom friend of Hers. I have also had sessions with Him. I didn't realize at first that She was serious about Him stopping by very shortly. I began to feel the same as earlier in the day...knowing that seeing Him would only serve to waken the demons again. This, at least, hadn't been planned as a session. I knew why He was coming over. Mistress had money that had been left with Her for a set of cuffs He had made. He was simply going to pick it up. She drew me to Her and started working my clit...telling me that I only had a moment or so before He would arrive and, that if I wanted to cum, I'd better do it quickly. She moved faster and I climaxed again. I sat in Her lap for a few minutes...holding Her tightly...wishing for a chance to talk all this over with Her. But, the knock came at the door and I opened it to allow Him to come in. I went back to my spot on the bed and He sat beside me. It was nearly a repeat of earlier events as far as conversation went...they just talked about different things. I was again reminded, though, of possibilities that wouldn't come to fruition. I was again painfully aware of the hunger that burned in me. And, I was again sure that nothing would happen that would stop it. He touched my hair now and again. The gesture itself means little. He simply likes the feel of it. And, when I'm in a better frame of mind, I find it pleasant. Tonight, though, the touch only incensed my body. The fight for composure was very difficult. He began describing to Mistress some materials He had out in His truck. He had removed a railed fence of some sort and said it would be perfect for a `puppy cage'. Mistress looked at me and arched one eyebrow. "A `puppy cage', how interesting. We could put you in one," She said. They both chuckled a little at that. I cringed. It wasn't the prospect of being put into one, it was - I felt at that moment - the sure knowledge that I'd never see the inside of it. Just like I would never use another piece of equipment He'd made and brought over. It's a long metal bar with rings at each end and another in the center. I'd fantasized often about having my ankles fixed to each end of it. I'd gone further to imagine my legs drawn high above my head and kept in that position by being fixed to the hooks in the ceiling....my cunt gaped open....tortured....pleasured.. Just like I thought the horse under the bed would end up buried in dust. "Go over to the middle of the room, get down on your knees, and bend your chest over them as far as You can." He proceeded to measure me...length, height, width. I was glad my face was hidden. He double-checked His numbers and I was allowed to get back up and resume my seat. They talked a little longer and, due to the lateness of the hour, went on His way. W/we began getting ready for bed and bring this terribly long day to an end. As W/we settled under the covers, I knew sleep would not come easily. As She fell asleep, I laid as quietly as I could. This would not be the first night I've wrestled with my demons alone. I began trying to sort out all the thoughts and feelings of the day. I found myself becoming more agitated by the moment until I happened upon one thought. Mistress. It was easier to think when I held onto Her mentally. "B/d is not the begin-all, end-all of living" She had once said to me. And, of course, She is certainly right about that. But, that being the case, I struggle hard against the absence of it. It is my nature. It is as sweet to me as the brush of a lover's lips. It is one of the few times when I feel totally alive...free...me. There is only one thing for me to do and that is to work ever harder to keep what is most important to me in the forefront of my thoughts. Again...Mistress. She is the center of my world, my heart, my life. She is my rock, friend, kindred spirit, love, and lover. I can not imagine life without Her. Since I've come to know Her, I've learned how wonderful and beautiful life can be....regardless of whatever else happens around U/us. I have to find a way to open this up so W/we can talk about it. She is so very understanding and patient with me. My greatest fear is the distress it is likely to cause Her. I remind myself again that She, too, must be as frustrated with the situation as I am. I have to find out how She manages to live with it. I rely on Her for so very much already that I hate to put anything else on Her shoulders. But, I fear that if I don't, it will eat away at me until I become too moody to stand or so depressed that I do something stupid. Perhaps......perhaps I'll write a story.