Sub Space on Santo
Posted on Sat Nov 7th, 2020 @ 4:23am by Kindra Graham
Mission:
Just A Short Hop to Priam
Location: Outside the town of Caster
Timeline: Day 22
The chauffeured shuttle settled onto the landing pad and Kindra waited for a member of the Powell estate staff to open the outer door before she stepped out wearing a flowing red and yellow sari and sandals. The lord and lady of the manor had sent their personal shuttle to bring her to their estate outside Caster on Santo. Whilst her three trunks were unloaded Kindra surveyed the impressive manor house surrounded by lusciously cultivated gardens.
It was not often that Kindra contracted with a married couple, but their situation and commitment to each other had intrigued her. The invitation had come at an opportune time as well. She'd tired of Santo's so-called polite society, rooted as it was in wealth arising directly and indirectly from the enslavement of people. Kindra was ready to move on. One recent client had concealed a particularly unsavory family history, offered Kindra a long-term contract, then became annoying insistent when she declined.
Plus, she'd gotten a wave from James Buccleuch, her step-brother, announcing his arrival on Santo in about a week and his intention to see her in person. Kindra planned to find transport off-planet before then.
An older gentleman approached the shuttle. Kindra thought he might be Mr. Powell, until he identified himself as the Powell estate manager - the butler, essentially - and gave his staff instructions to take her trunks to a guest suite.
The butler ushered Kindra through the front door and down a hall to a traditional parlor, occupied by two middle-aged people who stood the moment she entered. Mr. Powell was tall and slim, with greying hair pulled back in a neat ponytail, wearing an informal yellow button-down and black trousers. Mrs. Powell wore a fashionable red day dress that clung tastefully to her ample figure, her shoulder-length hair dyed an unlikely shade of ginger. An elegant tea set was arrayed on the low table between a matching settee and chair. Family photos decorated the walls, dominated by their two children who were currently away at University.
Kindra immediately took control of the room and greeted the couple as if it was her own home. "Mrs. Powell, it is a pleasure to meet you," said Kindra, taking both the woman's hands in hers and ceremonially kissing her cheek.
Mrs. Powell, half-a-head shorter than Kindra, looked her in the eye and smiled nervously. "Thank you for accepting our invitation, Miss… uh, Companion Graham. Please call me Cordelia."
"I'd be honored if you would both call me Kindra." She turned to Mr. Powell. His gaze slid down past her face, past her figure, and lingered at her sandals. Kindra stepped toward him and reached out her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Powell."
His gaze met hers with a start of surprise, but he gave her hand a brief shake. "I'm Reginald."
Kindra took the chair and gestured to the settee. "Please, have a seat." She began arranging the cups and saucers. "How do you take your tea?"
"Cream and sugar for me," said Mrs. Powell. "Reginald takes his black."
Kindra prepared Mrs. Powell's tea and served it to her, then she poured Mr. Powell's tea and waited for him to look up from the floor. "Black?" When he nodded after a furtive glance in his wife's direction, Kindra placed it in front of him.
Kindra poured her own cup, black, and took a sip while regarding her two clients, giving them a few moments to relax before she began the conversation. Cordelia was clearly dominant in the couple's relationship, as Kindra had guessed from their client proposal. The tea was good quality, but it had steeped too long and had become bitter.
When neither of them spoke, Kindra said, "I was moved by your communication. The two of you have been married a long time and are quite committed to each other." Couples such as them rarely contracted a Companion.
Cordelia nodded emphatically. "I want my dear Reginald to be happy. I want him to experience what he needs. It's just that I can't give it to him." A tear ran down her cheek.
"Cordelia did try," Reginald said, chagrin adding a pink tinge to his ears. He was still looking at the floor by her feet. "It was her idea to engage a Companion."
Kindra put down her cup. "Of course I could provide Reginald with the experience he craves, and in the future you could contract with other Companions, but I sense that is not the solution either of you really wants."
Cordelia's nervous expression returned, but Reginald finally looked up, hopeful. Kindra continued. "Communication is critical in all aspects of a relationship, but especially when delving into, uh, new interests." Kindra decided it was best not to use the word kink or fetish. "People are always growing and changing, so it's not unusual for couples who've been together for a long time to find that their uh, preferred fantasies don't align exactly. As long as each of you respects the other's hard limits, and keeps an open mind, with a little guidance you can explore fulfillment together."
They were both nodding and smiling at each other. Kindra took a deep breath. "Reginald, let's talk through what it is about your, uh, proposed activity that excites you. And then, Cordelia, let's talk about what went wrong the first time you tried it and what parts you enjoyed. Then we can discuss the practical aspects of play and the dynamics of power exchange."
* * *
Although Cordelia and Reginald both listened enthusiastically, and Kindra helped them work out every detail of play including a safe word, Cordelia was still uncertain. Finally, Kindra had agreed to be the sub to Reginald's dom, while Cordelia watched.
Blindfolded and reclining in a chair Reginald had acquired just for this purpose, Kindra trembled and willed herself to relax once again. The sensations Reginald elicited made her want to squirm, to laugh, to recoil from his touch, to escape the quick-release restraints. Luckily Kindra made a daily practice of meditation and muscle control. She could hold still.
The timer chimed for the ninth time. That was a modification Kindra had recommended, limiting the time Cordelia, or Kindra as her stand-in, was at Reginald's mercy. Ten five-minute intervals. The time-limit imposed structure and anticipation on play, reminded Reginald to check-in with Cordelia, and provided a count-down that would reassure Cordelia so she'd be unlikely to panic and speak her safe word prematurely.
"Are you all right, Kindra?" asked Reginald dutifully, as they had all agreed, to check in.
"I'm fine. Don't stop," whispered Kindra, modelling continuous consent.
Her vocation was about pleasure. D/s had been part of her training at Madrassa, but didn't appeal to Kindra personally. She couldn't truly relate to the rush a Dom felt at their sub's compliance. She had never experienced the floating euphoria of sub space. To her it was all theory, so she rarely took clients who wanted that kind of release. And she never allowed a client to leave evidence on her body, even temporarily. Today, she'd made exceptions on both counts.
The timer chimed for the tenth and last time. Cordelia released the restraints. Reginald removed Kindra's blindfold and asked excitedly, "What do you think?"
Kindra opened her eyes and looked at her feet. Each one of her toenails was painted in an elaborate and detailed design in an assortment of garish color combinations. She swallowed and allowed Cordelia to help her out of the pedicure chair. "It's, uh… I've never seen anything like it before. Unique, Reginald, just like you."
"Be careful," started Reginald, "you'll smudge-"
But Reginald was rendered speechless as his wife took Kindra's place in the pedicure chair. "My turn," she said eagerly.
Kindra reset the timer while Reginald confidently applied the restraints to his wife. Kindra hesitated a moment, then asked, "Would you like me to stay?"
"No dear," said Cordelia, smiling as Reginald covered her eyes with the blindfold. Reginald was kissing his wife as Kindra slipped through the door and closed it gently behind her.
Kindra found her way to her room. After unsuccessfully searching the bathroom supplies for nail varnish remover, she took her harp case from its crate, tuned her harp, and began to play a soothing love song. Tomorrow she'd go shopping in Caster, and with a little luck buy something to restore her toes.