“Modality and Guilty Pleasures”
**We would often play in the woods by our house; the sun would glint down on us through the dense trees trailing with mossy bark, as we would roll around carelessly in the abundant supply of rich, moist dirt. We would make fortresses out of sticks and eat mud cakes; there was an endless supply of imagination feeding the grandeur of our juvenile dreams. Sometimes I would play with the neighbor’s daughter- Ariel- a girl two years my senior; with jet-black hair and fierce blue eyes, the kind that pierced my retinas and bore down into my soul. Ariel intimidated lots of the boys at school and I too was no stranger to this plight. She was undoubtedly formidable, yet I found myself gravitating towards her by some unknown charm. One day she suggested that we play a new game, I was as always totally docile in her presence but silently intrigued by any proposition she gave me. I made a small murmur of agreement and she grasped my clammy hand and guided me through the woods out to a small clearing, where I glanced in a moment of horror at what appeared to be a shallow pit. I didn’t have to ask her who had dug that hole, or what her intentions were for it. The wind caught my breath, I tried to gulp, but all the saliva had long since departed from my mouth.
‘I dare you’ she whispered.
Now I’m not sure what possessed me, in fact I will never know why I willfully clambered into that hole that day. All I know is how I watched her, enraptured, as she piled great mounds of soil over me, till I lay constricted, paralyzed by the fear of asphyxiation, listening to her shrill voice ring out to me, proclaiming I was her prisoner.**
I stared down at the handcuffs that were tightly wound around my languid wrists, the metal that cut deeply into my swollen flesh, admiring the temporary laceration it produced. I noted my familiar surroundings, the huge folds of darkness that I had known to become that of a loving embrace. I heard the sound of heels clinking on slate in the distance, my pulse quickened to an alarming rate, and I remembered that familiar lack of spit in my mouth. I quivered in anticipation of my Mistress; every fiber of my being was electric, my excitement intensified and stiffened.
My protagonist, the one I called Mistress, had a hollow, drawn face with thick, plump red lips and raven black hair. She was formidably beautiful- and those eyes- were the kind that could sever a grown man from his soul in just a glance. In the peripherals of my vision I observed her seductively sparking a cigarette, the light from the flames momentarily illuminating her harsh features. I watched her as she inhaled deeply, then began to circle me, like an eagle coming for its prey. My excitement rose, it was unbearable, the ultimate torture was not knowing when she would strike. I have come to learn anticipation is the deadliest form of control Finally she sunk the whip into my left buttock, I howled out, she heard my feigned weakness, so she spanked me again, this time more fervently. I felt the deep throb of pain pulsating, igniting a fire of euphoria which set a trail blaze up my spine, coming to satisfy some innate desire in my lower cortex. With each whip she would strike, I found myself easing into peace and my dark thoughts dissolving. Well at least till next time…
Now you are probably wondering how I ended up chained to the floor in a dingy basement being whipped senseless by an intimidating woman dressed head to toe in latex. I have often pondered events from my past which no doubt have had some serious implications on my, err preferences. About me, I am a high-flying executive in the city, it has taken me some years to get to my level of hierarchy but I am a hard worker and my perseverance finally paid off. I am totally dedicated to my job, a workaholic if you will. Just sometimes it gets tiresome, the banal questions, the constant need for appraisal, I feel like I’m babysitting toddlers half the time. Believe you me I have a few of my own, so I know what that means. Being in control of several departments all critical decisions are passed to me, I am in total control of the company’s assets, so naturally sometimes I just need to let go. Now some people ‘let go’ by having a glass of red with their steak in the evenings, a spot of golf at the weekends or a line of coke off a strippers back. Me? I like to be dominated- blindfolded, tied up and spanked- the more left field the better- give me rubber, whips, dominance and degradation.
I had first come to know this spot called Pandora’s Box through a woman I had been having an affair with. She knew what I was into, and passed me the details on the sly after a particularly rigorous session. I think she was secretly saying my demands, or lack there of, had become too much for her. I never thought I’d even admit it to myself, let alone pay for it, but without a doubt it has been the most liberating experience a man could ask for.
island6 and the Liu Dao art collective present to you the weird and wonderful world of “Modality and Guilty Pleasures”, our kinkiest addition yet. Allow yourself to be seduced by our tempting siren calls as we lure you inside with promises of electric whips and LED handcuffs. Our dynamic vixens have dusted off the bit gags and slithered into their best latex, prepared to take you on a voyage inside the dark, seedy underworld of Liu Dao and the island6 closet of fetishes.