My body is craving protien today. I am all assumptive that this is from
the rather intense workout last night that it wants to rebuild muscle
tissue. Whatever the reason, the idea of having a huge-ass steak is
sounding really good right now.
Tonight will I think be downtime. I can still feel the workout this
morning-- I did a lot of upper body work-- and it tells me it's time to
heal a little bit. I may ride the bike for a bit, but its not going to
be the full-blown cardio, more of a warmup and loosening. And I need to
clean the kitchen. I've been kinda lax this last week or two. Its not
that bad-- it needs more of a sprucing up than anything-- I just have to
He watches her lying naked, face down on the table, hands and feet
bound with nylon stockings. She is blindfolded, and there is a gag in
her mouth. She squirms, and he hears her whimper.
"This is going to hurt," he says as he moves toward her.
There is a lot of snow on the ground outside. Something between 12 and
15 inches combined in the two days of the storm, and now it's bright and
sunny. They don't seem to do much salting of the roads here, because
there is a layer of slick ice under it all, and if you're not careful
it's easy to slip and fall, or swerve off the road and into the ditch. I
saw quite a few places where cars had done just that, and everyone was
driving slow this morning.
He unwraps a set of tools, allowing the metallic sound of their
clinking to be heard. He watches her shudder, and he smiles. She is
anticipating the pain, just like he wants her to. Anticipation is half
Work is... Well, work. What seems like hundreds of minute details
scattered like ashes across the landscape. Questions about whether or
not a confirmation message is sent on operations, whether you can
disable the selection of certain items on a list, why use
reinterpret_cast instead of dynamic_cast. Awkward coding standards, bad
decisions. Management's requirement to have a five-minute "standup"
meeting every day to "communicate issues more proactively".
"Such a selection," he says. "A tool for every occasion."
Her struggles have become more frantic now as she tries to loosen the
knots. He knows that the nylon stockings don't loosen, that's why he
chose them. That, and the fact that they don't leave marks or stray
He takes his time as she struggles and squirms. "Such quality. Such
precision. Such sharpness."
He lays the cold steel against the skin of her thigh just below her
buttocks and is rewarded with a small gasp.
"You should really hold still you know. You only make it more
He draws the point of the needle slowly up the curve of her buttock,
tracing the nerve pathways that he knows so well.
I have a pork roast in the refrigerator that I was planning to cook
tonight. I'd like to try roasing it in the oven instead of the crock pot
though, as I'm kind of burned out on crock-pot meals lately. I probably
should have marinaded it first, but I didn't really think of it last
night. It should work fine if I roll it in spices and wrap it in foil,
"Perhaps you didn't know this, but the human nervous system has some
amazing properties. For example, if I insert a needle here" he says as
he slowly pushes the point of the slender needle into her skin, "It
creates phantom points of pain all along your body."
Her back arches as she lets out an involuntary cry. She is starting to
shake. He draws another long, slender needle along the matching nerve
pathway on the other side of her body.
"The Chinese have known about this for twelve centuries. They call it
He inserts the second needle. She gasps and moans.
"They used to vibrate the needles by hand to provide stimulation to the
nerve pathways. Very often it has been used to treat illnesses or block
feeling from certain parts of the body."
Did some laundry last night. Sheets, blankets, some towels. I need to
wash some more towels tonight when I get home. And I should probably
take out the trash, which is more of a pain in the ass now that they
moved the dumpsters around. And I'll bet that they don't have them
plowed out yet.
With practiced hands he inserts needle after needle slowly into her
skin, watching the rise and fall as her breathing quickens, and the
shaking of her body as she silently cries.
"More modern practitioners use tiny electrical currents to stimulate the
He brushes his hands lightly across all of the needles. She gasps and
"But I have found something much more enticing."
I should probably clean the bathroom too. I have a lot of magazines and
books and old prescription bottles cluttering up the counter space. And
crap, I forgot that I needed to get my prescriptions refilled. I'll have
to do it tomorrow.
"You see, the nervous system works on impulses. Tones if you will. A
series of pulses moving slower and faster depending on the amount of
stimulation." He raps a tuning fork on the side of the table, and
listens to it as it gently hums, a pure pitch. He touches the handle of
the fork to one of the needles just at the base of her spine, and she
stiffens and begins convulsing.
"It is a purity that has to be experienced, no?"
He moves the fork down to the needles that he has embedded in the skin
on the insides of her thighs. Instantly her hips buck and she writhes,
but more slowly this time.
"Hard to believe that something that could provide so much pain could
provide so much pleasure as well."
He listens as her breathing quickens, and he smiles.