Written Wonderland

Evan stood anxiously in front of the massage table, holding his head high as he took in the audience before him. Most of these people didn't know him - didn't even know of him, as far as he was aware - and a part of him didn't even want to be here for fear of the misconceptions that could arise. He was well aware he was in the body of a woman - the body of a woman whom the world usually perceived as sweet and gentle and submissive. No one who actually knew Evan would fucking dream of calling him sweet or gentle, and there was exactly one single person at this entire fucking event to whom he'd remotely willingly submit. Just his luck that she was the one who wanted to do fire play tonight, and like hell he was gonna let her do it on anyone else on his watch; he knew full well that jealousy would be a bitch if he did. Some past version of him might've let pride light that dumpster fire anyway, but not now. He wanted her too fucking badly; he was wholly hers, and she was entirely his.

Evan watched pensively as the goddess strolled slowly over to one of their spotters, but his eyes lit up as the goddess pushed the spotter down onto her knees. He felt a lightness in his chest at the sight, and a smirk start to curl on his lips. He felt a sense of gratitude well up, as he recognized that the goddess was elevating him. He was still standing, proud and posed in center stage, while the spotter humbly and obediently knelt to the side. Heh, maybe this wouldn't be so humiliating after all. He watched excitedly as the goddess strode over to the other spotter, anticipation vibrating in his core. It was tempting to break out into a stupid shit-eating grin, but he kept his expression subtle - there was an audience to consider, after all, and he intended to hold onto his dignity while he still could.

Then, the goddess set her sights upon him. Despite the bright glowing pride and excitement the kneeling spotters had gifted him, fear and anxiety gripped once more at his chest. Now it was his turn, and he didn't know what to expect. Ugh, fuck, she wasn't going to make him kneel, too, was she? His smirk faltered at the thought, just slightly.

In an instant, though, there she was before him-- the goddess kneeling to him-- holding his necklace in her outstretched hands. For a moment, he wondered if her intention was actually for him to Dom this scene, which certainly would have honoured him deeply, but before his thoughts could run away with that, the goddess spoke, and what she said was sweeter than he could have possibly imagined.

Her words sent a chill down his spine and lit an elated fire in his gut, while his smirk twisted into a sinister sort of pleasure and amusement. She'd pulled out a different side of him - a side which knew full well just how wrapped around his finger she could be, and a side which was eager to give himself over to her, and to revel in the discomfort it would put him through-- body, heart, and especially pride. That side of him didn't care what the audience thought, because this experience wasn't about them. They were mere props for him and the goddess to play with together. Glowing with pleasure, Evan took the necklace from his goddess and fastened it around her neck as she’d requested, a deep feeling of satisfaction pulsing through him as the clasp sprang shut.

Then the goddess stood, and as she did so Evan shifted back into his more nervous self, his cooler side abandoning him to the full sensation of being observed, of being vulnerable, of being honestly scared as shit. The goddess drew up a blindfold, and his heart thumped in terror as he prepared for a fast, hard dive. He knew that being blindfolded would put him well below the kneeling spotters, all the way down to that precarious place where he couldn't quite tell the difference between himself and a wholly disposable thrall. He couldn't say he liked the idea of being there while feeling so exposed, but then again, once he got there, he'd certainly stop caring about the audience; the goddess' hold on his attention would be entirely too fucking powerful for him to get distracted by anything else.

But that wasn't actually what the goddess had in mind. Instead she tied the blindfold over his mouth as a gag, and Evan grunted irritatedly, his eyes narrowing into a sharp, fiery glare. This was almost worse - keeping him up out of subspace, aware and frustrated and fiesty, but with this humiliating fucking gag tied around him, stealing his speech and his wit and his pride. He bit down hard on her fingers as she stuffed the cloth into his mouth, which he was sure she was fucking smirking about. The goddess whispered in his ear to strip, and then pulled her fingers free and stepped away from him to saunter off to the side, leaving him utterly fucking exposed to the watching eyes before him.

He threw off his overshirt angrily, tossing it over by the spotter closest to the goddess, and met the goddess’ gaze with as much attitude as he could muster. Next, he kicked off his shoes that direction, secretly hoping they might hit the spotter and somehow relieve some of his frustration. The goddess watched on in amusement, and the spotter was frustratingly untouched. He forced his gaze to stay on the goddess despite her insufferable goddamn expression, because he dare not look in the direction of the audience or he might fucking lose it. They had better the fuck not think he was stripping for them. He was stripping for her, because she had instructed him to, and because at the end of the day, he did want to please her. Even - arguably especially - when it made his pride writhe.

The next article of clothing was his bra, which he was rather loathe to part with. Sometimes he could enjoy tricking people into thinking he was a woman thanks to the breasts on this body, but now was really not one of those times. This particular bra was sporty and leathery, and the last semblance of tangible masculinity he still had on his person. The instant he started pulling it up, he wished he'd saved it for last instead, but hell if he could back out of it now.

After angrily throwing his bra to the side, he begrudgingly slid off the bandelettes on his thighs, first one and then the other. At least those, hot as fuck though they were, were lacy and feminine and so they were something he was glad to be rid of. So of fucking course the second one clung on, stretching out rather than moving while he determinedly held the goddess' gaze, desperately trying to make like this was on purpose, like he was drawing it out in an attempt to antagonize her, and not at fucking all like he was angry out of his goddamn mind that it wasn't just coming the fuck off already. It finally snapped away from the skin it had been grasping obnoxiously firmly onto, and he tossed it off to the side by the other with a frustrated growl, muffled by the goddamn gag.

At last, it was just down to his underwear, before he bore his full nakedness to the world, the breasts and curves and bush of this body fully visible and Evan still wondering if anyone in the audience had even the slightest fucking clue what he was experiencing-- what he was. He really fucking hoped they could see him, if not in the body itself then at least in the way that he carried it.

He finally turned back to the goddess, indignant and nervous and frustrated as hell. He wished he could throw off the gag just as angrily, as he ached to bite and to claw and to grapple. Gods, he yearned to take out his frustration on his goddess’ skin Heh, or maybe the ass of one of the spotters. But that wasn't the order of the evening, and he knew it. The goddess walked over to him, his necklace gleaming in the moonlight on her person, and she gave him the inevitable instruction to lay face down on the table. With a frustrated groan, he obliged.

At least once he was down the audience faded. His attention shifted to what the goddess was going to do to him, and the sensations he'd experience. And, at least fire play was generally pleasant-- not like she'd be beating him with any curtain rods tonight, which was certainly a relief. The fire on the wand over his skin was not only warm, but glowing-- and not just with light, but with lust, desire, power, and pride. Evan's skin tingled below it, excited to make contact and feel those sensations seep into him as they swelled in the goddess beside him. He really was glad that she wanted him here, despite all the trappings of discomfort.

She certainly didn't go easy on him, though. A few gentle quick lines, but then she was leaving the fire on longer, waiting until his body started flinching before she even began to move to put it out. He hated how the sounds of his grunts and his groans landed on his ears, muffled and twisted by the gag in his mouth. He couldn’t help imagining the audience hearing his sounds and thinking he was faking or pathetic or both. His jaw clamped down tight on the gag, and his brain spun vicious epithets towards the audience for their presumed audacity. He imagined lighting them on fire, and not going fucking easy one bit.

His attention was brought back to his body as the goddess’ new flogger came down on his skin, after yet another flame had been left to linger. He panicked a little, his perception splitting between feeling it as a pleasant impact and feeling it as a stinging, shocking whip. He mentally cursed again at the audience, knowing that their presence was the cause of the split. He wanted to feel it as a whip, in its full pain and potency, but he was too fucking cowardly to sink all the way in. He just couldn’t imagine them understanding. On the upshot, feeling it as the flogger it physically was did feel pretty fucking good, on that level. Despite the pricks of rage in his mind, his throat pushed a satisfied groan into his gag, and he at least sank into the feeling of the leather straps hitting his skin.

Evan finally started letting go of his frustration and rage as the flames and the floggings continued, keeping him in his body and pushing him steadily down into subspace. His skin started to tingle in the fire’s wake, growing more and more sensitive and alive. The rhythm of his breath and the fire and the flogger started to pull him close to a trance, his groans finally fully indifferent to how they sounded no matter whose ears they may land on.

But then the cold, wet sting of a towel hit him, sharp and heavy and jarring. The goddess laughed. He was suddenly aware of the audience again, self-consciousness flooding over him along with the cold from the towel that sank into his skin. The goddess easily pushed him back down by returning to fire and flogger, and pulled him back up with the towel again at her whim.

Evan growled in frustration each time the goddess wrenched him back up with the cold. Spikes of pride in him wanted desperately to do something-- grab that towel the next time the goddess tried to wield it, use it to tug her off balance, take back some fucking control and show the audience he wasn’t just some sweet submissive thing. But he didn’t actually want to do that to his goddess, not with an audience. Just as she had elevated him as their scene began, so too he wanted to elevate her throughout it. She was every bit deserving of the respect he was giving her, and he wanted the audience to know it-- even if in private he may not have shown her all the respect she deserved.

She really fucking tested him when she pulled out goddamn ice cubes, though. He would have cursed if not for the goddamn blindfold stuffed in his mouth, but gods knew his body certainly fucking reacted. Between the fire rousing his skin and the towel seeping cold into his bones and the ice cubes drawing shivers from his core, he could hardly keep still anymore. Just in time for the goddess to instruct him to roll over. He wasn’t looking forward to it for a few different reasons, but it felt even more pathetic to stay in place.

With a low, throaty groan he pushed himself up off the table enough to roll over, and angrily sloughed himself back down. His eyes glared daggers up at the night sky while the nerves all across his back danced haphazardly against the table beneath him. He was that much more aware of the audience here, feeling the chill of their gazes hitting against his skin. He knew he could look in their eyes if he turned his head, and in some ways it was tempting, but he was too fucking terrified of what he might let them see.

The goddess continued her cruel arrhythmic sequences of fire and flogger and towel and ice, keeping Evan’s experience in agony and his body helplessly in motion under her touch. His fingers gripped at the table for some kind of stability. He imagined flipping the audience off, but could never sustain focus long enough. The cascade of hot and cold and pain and pleasure was too distracting, ever pulling his attention back into it and keeping him stuck.

Something shifted as the goddess gently lifted his hand from the table, though. He was embarrassed at how pliant he was, but then again, he also sensed that she moved him with reverence. She guided his hand to be accepting of the alcohol from her wand, and of the warm, powerful flame that followed. Evan finally pulled his glare from the night sky to watch the fire in his hand, and he felt pleased. For a moment, it seemed possible that the audience might perceive his own godhood, seeing that glimpse of magic in his hands that his goddess wanted to show them.

It wasn’t long after that the goddess had him sitting up, half from instruction and guidance and half from his mind finally clawing itself out of subspace. She untied his gag with care, and gave him back his necklace. The weight of it in his hand straightened his posture and finally pulled him all the way up, and he watched in breathy exhilaration as the goddess pulled up the gag-- now blindfold-- serenely in front of her eyes. Evan finished fastening his necklace around his neck and then reached for the blindfold to tie it around her--

But before his fingers touched the cloth, she took it off, and announced to the audience an intermission.

What a fucking goddamn tease.

Maisie took back control of the body after Evan and Dehaljadrun’s performance. Really, Evan shoved the reigns back into her hands-- not that she minded returning to the driver’s seat. The fae creature certainly understood why Evan didn’t want to interface directly with this crowd now that the performance was over, though. She had been biting her own tongue quite a lot this weekend, suppressing urges to push buttons and sew a bit of playful chaos into their midst. Maybe once we get to know this group better, was the consensus; until then, everyone in the system was under instructions to play nice, and Maisie was certainly better at that than their resident scoundrel was, if only just.

After the goddess’ system took a brief break, Satyr of that system came out to use her wands on each of the spotters in thanks. Maisie collected one of the spotters’ squirt bottles and went to sit down next to the remaining audience members-- seemed much of the audience had for various reasons drifted away. In some ways Maisie thought that was sad, but in other ways, it was for the best. The audience that remained was clearly enthusiastic about the proceedings, and Maisie very much enjoyed tapping into their exhilaration at the discoveries they uncovered while watching.

The fae creature chatted pleasantly with one of the audience members while fire play continued, happily providing an ear for the newborn enthusiast to narrate her experience and comment on the things that interested her. The initiate had never seen fire play done before, but was absolutely transfixed, and this pleased Maisie deeply. Oh, the fun this initiate had in store! The creature’s back vibrated in excitement, and her ethereal tail swished in delight.

Maisie continued wiggling happily when it was the initiate’s turn to experience the thrill of the fire wands. Satyr handled her with care and grace, and Maisie watched blissfully as the initiate swam in the sensations of this newly discovered passion. If nothing else, they’d opened a portal for at least this one person, and that was enough to make everything worth it. Maisie felt fulfilled and serene at the thought, along with a deep appreciation for Satyr and her system. Yes, she was Familiar for the proper person indeed.

Once the spotters and the initiate had all had their turn under Satyr’s beautiful wands, the radiant fae came over to check in with Maisie and her system. Her system was about Topped out, but that was quite fine. Evan burned to light his goddess on fire, and Yukiko also wouldn’t mind a go. Maisie passed along-- well, part of that data, and handed the reigns off to Yukiko, excited to sit back and watch another delectable scene unfold.

Yukiko was still riding the wave of Maisie’s pleasure and bliss as she took over control of the body. She and the fae creature shared quite a lot of brainspace, and she tended to feel Maisie’s experiences pretty potently. Not that she had any complaints about that-- the fae creature’s experiences were unfailingly indescribably fun.

Yukiko was a bit more reverent, though, at least in this circumstance-- and circumstances like it. Fire was so deeply a part of her, she very potently understood its ferocity and its sacredness.

And she also very much so understood Dehaljadrun’s pride.

She had Topped for the goddess before, and considered her a friend, but not quite a close enough friend to poke fun at. She had no intention of tainting their dynamic at this stage, and offered the goddess nothing but dignity as she waited for the goddess to disrobe and lie down, and then as she began to draw flames across her skin.

It was so incredibly easy for Yukiko to get into a flow with fire. She hardly even noticed the wands between her hands and the flames; a different version of her wouldn’t have needed them. She both watched and felt the flames dance and flicker; and also rode the waves of the goddess’ responses, the ways her body’s skin rose to the fire and opened for the sensation it provided. It was pure bliss for them both.

Once Yukiko felt gratified, she gently prompted the goddess to roll over, silently assuring Evan that he could have his turn soon. She wanted it to be a surprise for the goddess. She quietly handed off the reigns as the body walked over to refill the wands, and relished the sudden powerful swell of his fire, warming the body and swimming up into the head as he enthusiastically took back control, just in time to turn around and face the goddess.

The body the goddess planned to inhabit once more was tired. After the intermission, someone else in the system had offered fire play tastings to the spotters and to one of the audience members and was prepared to call it a night, but then asked Em if someone in her system wanted to top. The goddess knew it was unlikely that Evan would come back out again after their scene at the beginning of the evening, but she ached to feel the sensation of the flames licking across her body once again and knew it was exactly what would rejuvenate her. Plus, the performance with Evan had gone flawlessly. Surely, she deserved some reward.

“Would Yukiko be interested in topping?” The goddess asked.

“Yeah, at least to start,” Em said. The goddess thought nothing of the comment as she prepared to completely disrobe. She wasn’t wearing much to begin with—black nipple pasties in the shape of an “x” across her breasts and her leather strap-on harness sans dildo—but it was enough clothing that taking it off made her feel exceptionally naked, not to mention that ripping the nipple pasties off hurt. The crowd had died down significantly, so the goddess decided not to worry about being bare and vulnerable. The rest of the audience wouldn’t know that she had returned anyway, and Yukiko… well, Yukiko thought she and the goddess were friends, and they’d done fire play before together, granted in a more private setting.

Thus unclothed, the goddess climbed atop the table, which was far clammier than she expected since it had been washed down with a towel. They couldn’t risk setting a sheet on fire, after all. Her back against the wet, cool surface made her feel even more exposed, but she was determined to settle in and enjoy herself. Face down, the goddess relished in the heat close against the skin of her back as Yukiko began, drawing agonizingly delicious lines of fire across the goddess’ back. Sinking into the sensations—not enough to drop into subspace, but enough to intensify what was happening—the goddess allowed the body she was in to react, her back gently arching as though to reach for the flames. They were welcome relief from the chill of the table.

It felt like all-too-soon when Yukiko suggested that Dehaljadrun roll over, but the goddess did so without complaint, her warm and soothed back hitting the damp table and waking her up again to the dropping temperature the night had in store. Her sore, bare nipples pushed up toward the sky, making her feel more exposed than she ever had in this body, perhaps in her own body as well.

Shortly before the goddess had settled back into the sensation of being on the table, she felt Evan’s nails dig into the place between her neck and shoulder, forcing her legs to buck as they bent involuntarily at the knee. She couldn’t hardly believe he was here, that Yukiko had gone, that he wanted this chance to have her at his mercy while she lay helpless on the table. Of course he did. Why hadn’t she anticipated this?

Her heartbeat become erratic, but she did not have time to think as he lit lines of fire on the front of her body where her skin was far more sensitive. While he likely was not going much harder than Yukiko, the sheer fact of knowing it was him doing it made her all the more sensitive as she ached to give him her pain. She looked up angrily at the stars and saw the audience out of her peripheral vision, her muscles spasming whenever the flames touched her skin. There were very few people watching, but the vastness of the stars in the sky made the goddess feel as though everyone in the world and all the other gods could see her at this moment, bare and exposed on the table underneath the man she had elevated to godhood. But she didn’t care. If everyone was going to see this, let them see it. Let them see how much she was willing to give this god, this dragon, this flame that burned so brightly for her and had served her so well. She suddenly felt truly and utterly worthy of being Evan’s, and she was, momentarily, content.

She squeezed her eyes shut then, and that’s when he threw the wet towel on top of her. All at once, she felt as though her entire body had been wrapped in cool, soggy material given how cold the table already was. It felt as though Evan had pulled a lump of freezing seaweed out of the ocean and set it on her, with god-knew-what squirming inside. She wanted to get out from underneath it, and she growled ferociously, screaming out, “That’s fucking terrible!” but she couldn’t help the grin from appearing across her lips after the words were out of her mouth. Hadn’t she wanted him to best her? Hadn’t she wanted him to take control?

The goddess wasn’t in subspace and could have gotten up off the table. In fact, she even sat up, prepared to fight him for the fire wands—consequences be damned—but was that really what she wanted? Seeing him there, lit in the light of the flames with his back to her as he relit his wands, she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t fight him. She wanted this to continue entirely too much, but… she could at least move the towel down onto her legs where it felt far less disgusting.

As he returned and saw the towel moved, the goddess nearly felt Evan’s raised eyebrow, but he continued with the flames, the goddess’ body writhing underneath him as she felt even more raw, the remaining audience members having watched her decide to stay.

Evan removed the towel and threw it on her several more times, much to her dismay, but she withstood it for him. For Evan, and for the flames. She wanted her whole body drenched in the alcohol fuel so she could feel the warmth of the flames all at once the way she could when she was fully in her goddess form, but she knew the body she was in couldn’t withstand it, so she contented herself with the lines and circles of fire, feeling Evan burn himself into her body with every touch of the wand.

Finally, when she had had enough, when the cold had seeped all the way to her bones, the goddess sat up as Evan approached, and she blew out the wand that held the flame. He scoffed and raised an eyebrow at her, but she used his momentary surprise to get a grip on the back of his neck, pulling him off balance and using his weight as he fell forward to move herself up off the table and around him. She fully stood behind him then, breathing heavy and aching to put her cock in his ass in front of whomever, but she stopped herself, shivered in the cold, let go of Evan’s neck, and walked off stage.