THE CARNALARIUM
by Rose Caraway

“Oh, awesome!” It was the GoPro camera and GPS package I considered getting when I was restocking my travel supplies. “And an extra battery? You shouldn’t have, Kendra!” I leaned forward, hooked a finger under her chin, then kissed her glossy, smiling lips. Kendra vibrated with pride at having earned such praise. But then there came that all too familiar push-peck sensation. It always started at the back of my neck—gently nudging at first, coaxing. If I put it off for too long, it became more insistent, impatient, a sharp pecking at my spine—a mother bird forcing her too-big offspring to get the fuck out of her nest already. I pulled away a little too quickly and Kendra’s happiness faltered.

And there it was, that look. Accusatory hate, self-doubt and (the big one) hope, all sparkling in her beautiful, light-blue eyes. But this was par for the course. Although with Kendra, my leaving was a little different. I couldn’t escape the other nagging sensation, deep in my chest. A thudding, heavy achiness. I thought I might love her.

Kendra looked up at me from her knees, tried to pretend that her sorrow wasn’t sucking the air out of the room. She sat between my legs, me on the couch, her on the floor. Reminding me of what an insensitive ass I could be sometimes. “I already put your account together, so no excuses. You better tweet every day, Beth, just so that I know where you are—that you’re not dead.” She let her fingers slide up my bare thighs, wooing me with her delicate touch. Goosebumps erupted over my flesh. My nipples hardened, guilt temporarily shoved back by the sweet little jolt of arousal that swirled in my belly.

“Just for you.” I purred against her pouty lips. I slipped my tongue inside her mouth, pulled her short frame closer, tried to be who I was before the restlessness had taken hold of me. But, even as I said the words I knew she hoped to hear, I was lying.

I pulled her baby-pink camisole off, admired the way her long bronze locks zinged and zapped their staticky, messy protest. Then my eyes settled on her breasts. Much fuller than my own and pierced with shiny silver barbells—a gift from me on our third date, they were truly magnificent. Kendra was a full-figured, adorable girl with a body anyone could get lost in. Ignoring emotion, I chose impulse and reached for those breasts, hardened the pale little nipples between my fingers and thumbs, twisting the silver barbell piercings, memorizing their silkiness for the lonely nights ahead. The GoPro travel kit was forgotten amidst the wrapping paper. I kissed Kendra, desperate for her to know that I wanted to say thank you for the time we’d shared, and goodbye—because I was going to miss her. I read somewhere that a single kiss could accomplish such a task, but I couldn’t seem to make it work.

Kendra did her best to seduce me, keep me here, but I simply couldn’t stay. Being tied down to anything, including lovers, brought the walls closing in on me, threatening to block out the sunlight I craved. Kendra and I had been lovers for the better part of a year, but the restlessness had my heels itching to break for freedom, and the next two weeks were going to be difficult. I’d never been able to lay down roots, anywhere—with anyone—for any extended period of time. I’m what you might call a free spirit. I only rent month-to-month, own a throw-away cell phone, and I never stay with a partner for longer than a few fun-filled months before I flit away to explore some other part of the world, literally. I guess I might be afraid that if I stay put for too long, I might miss something else more fulfilling. To date, Kendra was my longest commitment. I took a certain amount of pride in that fact, but I couldn’t ignore the wearying effect it was having on me. I’m just not…monogamous. With anything.

Kendra, my sweet, darling Kendra, is truly a girl who would be lost without someone to take care of her. I know that sounds borderline misogynistic, but it’s true. She needs to be cherished like doll that she is. I can’t leave her broken. Hurt is one thing, but broken? That guilt would eat at me for a long time.

I’m the complete opposite. I need to get out, away—experience life, people, the world. I’ve done everything from skydiving in New Zealand and Dubai to swimming through the labyrinth of lava tubes around Hawaii. I’ve already backpacked across Europe a few times, helped build homes for humanity in Mexico, hiked the Incan Trail, even followed a camera crew to Namibia and photographed two separate nomadic tribes in the jungles of Africa. Now it was time to traverse my own country. The good ol’ USA—from the West Coast to the East Coast—on foot. With only two weeks left and still so much to do, my shopping list was getting longer and longer. At the top of that list—batteries. I simply couldn’t forget batteries, or I’d be up shit creek without an orgasm. Screw the water purifying tablets. I needed my big O’s more than water.

“I got you something else,” Kendra breathed against the nape of my neck, bringing me out of my mental list of to-dos. The warmth caused me to be a lot more than a little juicy between the legs. I didn’t want any more presents; I wanted Kendra to make me come.

“You did?” My voice was the best sultry-sweet I could manage.

“Yep.” Kendra was trying so hard to be strong for me.

“What is it?” I asked.

She pulled a nondescript red envelope from beneath the couch. “I got us into The Carnalarium.”

“The what?”

“The Carnalarium.” She rolled her eyes, a cute bratty expression I’d developed a liking for. I resisted grabbing her hair and throwing her over the couch cushions for a thorough spanking that was sure to lead to an extended fucking. “It’s only the most popular sex dungeon in the city. I emailed the head Mistress a couple of months ago,” she finally responded. “She said my application was interesting. She actually met me for coffee. We talked about a bunch of stuff—”

“You had coffee together?” I accused. I instantly regretted my tone. I was more surprised than anything; Kendra never went anywhere on her own.

“Nothing happened.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just surprised is all. And kind of impressed.” I was relieved to see the tension ease from her body.

“Really?” she asked, eyes lighting back up. Damage repaired.

“I remember the place. That old renovated abbey over on Rosary Hills, right?”

“Yeah. You wanna come with me?” This time that shy, blushing demeanor was too much to resist.

“Girl, I always want to come with you.” I pulled her in, my kisses demanding. I slipped a hand between her legs and decided I’d let her come first.

The Carnalarium was a restored Abbey that, fortunately for the kink culture, didn’t qualify as a historical landmark. Private money put it back together, and it was better for it. It was a rotunda architecture that had four adjoining apses converted into waiting rooms. The decor throughout was predictable antique Victorian furniture, but without all the gaudy lace trappings. There were several small and medium-sized erotic oil replicas hanging on the walls. A restored brushed-velvet settee, a fainting couch and an ornately designed mahogany armoire to stow personal belongings in. Everything felt lush, welcoming. We’d already gone over the rules and regulations, signed our contracts and provided proper blood work documentation, which nearly took two weeks. I’d been worried that our last playdate wouldn’t happen.

We’d stripped down nearly twenty minutes ago, the wait making our nerves a little giddy. Playful kisses and pinches kept us occupied. Dee, the Mistress, would be there any moment to personally escort us to the main floor. Neither of us had been with a man in over a year, but Kendra said that the Mistress had found a great match.

“So…you’re really up for this? Balls? Cock? Hairy chest?” I asked. It had been long enough for me that merely mentioning those body parts made Mamma want.

“Yes, but only if you still want to.” Kendra’s meek voice cracked. I didn’t like how it made me immediately reach for her. I pushed her against the red-and-black baroque damask-printed wall. I knelt down, eased Kendra’s thighs apart, then slipped my tongue deep into her slit. Kendra was a staunch believer in regular waxing, and I always appreciated how easily my tongue glided over such smooth, slippery little pussy lips.

I stiffened my tongue, pushed in deeper—reached it so far back that I could tickle the tight rim of her anus. My nose was smashed against her pubic bone as I flicked. The scent of pussy made me growl and salivate. Kendra tilted her pelvis, offering me a little more depth. I obliged. Then I dipped into her pussy hole. In and out, tasting. I moaned as low as I could, the vibrations fluttering up into Kendra’s belly the way she always liked. Her pretty moans filled the waiting room, making my pussy swell and moisten in response. I scooted closer, my knees cushioned by lush carpet, and gripped Kendra’s ample thighs. I moved my tongue a little farther up, teased and coaxed her sensitive clitoris from its fleshy shelter. The little nub responded almost immediately. I moaned and inserted three fingers pads up, and fucked her. Kendra came in seconds.

The heavy carved door whispered open. It was Dee, the Mistress of The Carnalarium.

From my knees I glanced up at Kendra, wiping my come-covered lips with the back of my hand. A shiny pink flush spread across her cheeks, indicating that she wasn’t quite ready to vocalize even a simple greeting.

“Hi, sorry, we got a little carried away.”

“The Captain is waiting for you.” Mistress Dee arched a single painted-black eyebrow, then pushed the thick wooden door the rest of the way open. She signaled us to follow with a half-smile.

Arm in arm, we followed The Mistress down a refurbished red-brick hallway that echoed her boot heels, and introduced our ears and skin to the vibrations of a cacophony of voices caught in the throes of passion. The main room was an open, circular floor plan with what looked to be about twenty different stations lining it all the way around. From each station, men and women were reveling in various positions and stages of fucking. Kendra and I gasped in unison, our breaths taken away momentarily by the opulence surrounding us. From any angle anyone could observe the uncensored debauchery around them. Center to the newly glossed concrete floor, and below an enormous, polished brass chandelier of sconced cupids, was a leather sitting area where patrons could satisfy their voyeuristic leanings, 360 degrees around.

“What do the lights mean?” I inquired. The canned lighting put a kind of swanky, modern edge to the place that kind of worked, but kind of didn’t.

Mistress Dee responded with only the slightest rehearsed tone. “Red signifies that the individual is occupied, or waiting for an appointment to show. Green represents that they are available for walk-ins. Yellow means occupied, but open for walk-ins, at their discretion.”

“Oh.” That was simple enough.

The Mistress pointed one painted-red nail toward a very tall, very naked man standing on the opposite side of the round room, his red light boldly glowing above his station. Kendra’s nerves kicked in again and she glommed on to my arm, her bountiful breasts compressed nicely. The man stood, his feet shoulder width apart, his cock hanging, slightly swollen—presumably from his own anticipation. In his hands, he held a small molded-leather box about the size of a small shoebox.

I felt Kendra’s arms loosen; her cheeks suddenly took on a strange pinkness. Something unsettling crept up my spine. I glanced back at The Captain. He was staring pointedly at Kendra. Jealousy triggered my jaw to clench. Mistress Dee’s voice made me jump. “Your applications didn’t mention any toys, devices or themed costumes, but if you change your mind, please push the com button and I will send an attendant over.” My gaze was captured by a scantily clad maid walking by with a bucket of water in one hand and a sponge and yellow rubber gloves in her other. She was headed for a man chained to a St. Andrew’s cross, stationed on our immediate left. Three other men, with exhausted but satisfied expressions on their faces, were just leaving.

Kendra’s gaze, however, was still held by The Captain. “Oh, Captain. My Captain.” She breathed those words so softly, I doubted she even knew she’d spoken them aloud. I couldn’t say why, but I didn’t like the sound of those words.

The Captain nodded politely then motioned to Kendra with one long finger. I felt her shiver under his inflexible command. She swallowed, her body trembling as she drifted away from me—ignoring me altogether for the first time in our relationship. My sweet, devoted Kendra seemed spellbound. Her small, bare feet carried her away, leaving my chest feeling strangely hollow. I reached out for her, but I was too late. She was already gone.

The Captain slid his long, tanned fingers through her rich cinnamon-colored hair like possessive talons, until they settled behind her neck, a gesture that had me clenching my jaw again. I resisted the knee-jerk instinct to embarrassingly shout, She’s mine! When Kendra closed her eyes and raised her soft lips to meet his, my bones felt cold. They kissed for too long, and then this towering, naked stranger, holding the leather box, leaned down and whispered something into Kendra’s ear. She turned, looked back at me, her eyes glossy, her cheeks pink with a lust that I hadn’t seen in a long while. Her beautiful breasts rose and fell with slow, deep breaths, the silver piercings glinting with the captured red from The Captain’s overhead light. I stepped forward, impulse once again reigning over emotion. But The Captain held up a hand, stopping me before I got too close. I’d never been halted by anything in my life.

“Kendra tells me that you are leaving her,” he said, his deep tone on the edge of accusatory.

My mouth felt dry. “Yes, but…”

“To go ‘see the world.’” He made it sound so callous.

“Well, yes…but…”

“Take this.” He held up an ornamental globe, a miniaturized version of the planet Earth. “Hold it out, like so.” Unthinking, I did as he said, an unusual thing for me. Then, over the echoes of our neighbors, I heard the distinct peel-and-rip sound of duct tape. Kendra pulled a strip from a roll. Before pasting it over my mouth, I saw something in her eyes that I had never seen before. Autonomy.

“As you won’t be able to speak, your ‘signal’ will be to drop this. If the glass breaks, everything stops.” I stood dumbly, my mind racing. What was happening? I hated the way Kendra kept smiling up at him so earnestly.

“Ready, kitten?” The Captain motioned to a simple chair I hadn’t noticed before. Kendra guided me backward until the backs of my thighs touched the wooden edge, and then she pressed my shoulder until I sat down, her newfound confidence giving her a strength I found quite mesmerizing.

“These are for you, kitten.” From the small leather box, The Captain pulled out a set of long gold chains attached to nipple clamps. That must have been where the duct tape and glass globe came from. At each opposite end, gold sailor’s anchors swayed heavily. Kendra lifted her chin, thrust her breasts outward. Nonchalantly, The Captain unscrewed and then removed each of the silver barbells I’d gifted her. As he then threaded the new piercings through her nipples it hit me, in a ton-of-bricks sort of way. He was claiming her as his—and she wanted him to. The weight of the chains and clamps pulled Kendra’s pale nipples downward, her expression reflecting that nothing else existed in her mind just then but that tugging sensation. Off with the old and on with the new.

“Don’t move.” The Captain then dragged an exceptionally tall black leather ottoman and placed it directly in front of my chair. I was forced to spread my legs so that the two pieces of furniture almost butted up against one another. I sat there, my shoulder aching from extending my arm out this long, trying to not crush the glass globe in my straining hand. The voices of impassioned people echoed around us, spanking, moaning, screaming, begging—all of it making me break out into a sweat. My pussy ached when Kendra propped herself over the ottoman. She adjusted a little, making sure to drape the gold chains prettily in front of her presented breasts. She held each clamp up and waited.

The Captain adjusted Kendra’s hips, making sure her feet were spread adequately. Then he came around and took the gold clamps from her and clipped them, one at a time, to my nipples as though he’d done this to me every day. I groaned behind the duct tape; as he applied each one, my muffled breaths filled my cheeks with too much air. I blinked. The pain, exquisite. I panted through my nose. Kendra moaned next, open mouthed, as The Captain placed one hand on his cock and one on the ottoman. While stroking himself he gave the glider a slow, steady nudge. The gold chains became taut between us, extending mine and Kendra’s nipples simultaneously. I moaned low in my throat, allowing the sharp tension to wash over me. The Captain let the tension rest, then he pushed the ottoman again. I shut my eyes, had to lean forward, give the chain slack. The glass globe—my world—almost slipped past my slackened grip.

“Beth.” It was The Captain, his warning voice pulling me back into the moment. “Sit back. Keep your eyes open.” He pushed again. Kendra’s heavy breasts lifted at each tug of the piercings. The Captain repeated this multiple times, stroking to Kendra’s cries. Then he halted the glider. Kendra turned toward his offered cockhead. Her little pink tongue reached for a taste. I was all but forgotten. My fingers trembled as I recovered, but the globe didn’t fall.

Kendra pulled his tip into her mouth. She suckled and I groaned, hoping she’d take him deeper. The Captain withdrew himself and looked at me. I shied away, couldn’t bear the disarming intensity. But he put a finger beneath my sweaty chin and forced me to look up. I’d never looked into someone so deeply before.

“Are you ready?”

In the back of my mind, I knew what he was really asking. The moment he’d beckoned Kendra to him, I knew what I had to do. I needed to let her leave me. Kendra deserved that much. I nodded. Tears threatened to fall. I didn’t want her to leave me. It hurt too much. The Captain smiled. He unclipped the clamps, one nipple at a time. The duct tape pulled when I grimaced at the blood forcing nerve endings back to life. He clipped the gold clamps together into makeshift reigns. The Captain’s face changed then; his eyes became brighter. He resumed his position behind Kendra, never letting go of her golden reigns.

I watched one and then two long, glistening strands of precome stream from his swollen tip as he rounded on Kendra. He whispered so sweetly to her, petted her flesh as he lowered his hips and took aim. Kendra reached for my thighs. I tucked my right hand under my thigh, while holding my left out. With one thrust, The Captain took possession of her, and the ottoman launched forward. Kendra grunted. My fingers trembled, but held that globe securely. The Captain thrust again and Kendra’s breasts were tugged by her new reigns, the golden anchors sparkling gloriously. Her breath was ragged while I silently kept out my arm. Sweating. Letting her go. They moved in concert, bound by those two anchors.

I realized now that I’d selfishly left Kendra with no options…no choices but emptiness and disconnectedness. Now, we were parting on mutual terms. The Captain filled her, anchored her. Kendra’s fingers became claws, digging into my thighs, her breasts heaving forward even as they were tugged back. Her mouth opened; she came loudly, freely, grounded in a way that I never could have provided.

I sobbed behind the duct tape, my globe still in one piece. My heart splintered.