She had it all - riches, a college scholarship, a girlfriend - until her conservative, hyper-religious parents found out about the girlfriend and made her choose between conversion therapy and disownment. That was the end of her academic career.
Thr...
Nearly all the material in "Netzach," parts 1 and 2, is sexually explicit. This chapter details a horrific initiation rite that ancilla has devised for herself with Magister's help. The few parts of it that are not blatantly sexual will make no sense at all out of context, so my advice to a reader who wants to avoid erotic material is to skip this chapter entirely and go to the bottom of the page in Netzach (PART 2) for its summary.
There's a lot of art in here. If you're careful with your scrolling finger you should be able to look at the pictures without reading something you don't want to.
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TRIGGER WARNING
This chapter contains descriptions of breath play, including choking.
I would like to interject that breath play is not safe under any circumstances. Starving the brain of oxygen can cause permanent brain damage. It can also kill people.
I also don't advise recreating the simulated sexual violence in this chapter. "Consensual nonconsent" is a controversy in the BDSM community for good reason. For the record, although "Magister" has said he's suspended "ancilla's" safeword for the duration of the ritual, if she had tapped out or otherwise used their previously-negotiated nonverbal safeword, he would have stopped the ritual immediately.
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The maples have shed their leaves. Bright yellow windfall clumps on pavement and lawns, a defiant contrast to the gloom of the afternoon sky. As I walk from the bus stop down the street, a cold, light rain begins to fall. I pull my coat closer to my body.
His apartment, which is part of what used to be a large, sprawling house before it was divided into separate units, is at the end of the street. Some of the other people in it have turned on their entrance lights, the way many of the houses on this street have, for the trick-or-treaters. He isn't passing out candy this year. His paycheck didn't stretch far enough to allow for both candy and rent. Maybe after tonight, when the candy goes on clearance, it will be another story. We do both like chocolate.
I reach the apartment building, enter, and walk up a flight of stairs to his door. A single ear of corn hangs from it as decoration.
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