ysabetwordsmith: (Schrodinger's Heroes)
[personal profile] ysabetwordsmith
This story fills a square on my card for the [community profile] kink_bingo fest. This fest encourages people to push the limits of their comfort zone by creating erotica, pr0n, smut, and other sexy stuff in the many flavors of kinky, sensual, and otherwise exotic activities. I'm hoping to attract some new readers for my writing.

The following story belongs to Schrodinger's Heroes, featuring an apocryphal television show supported by an imaginary fandom. It's science fiction about quantum physics and saving the world from alternate dimensions. It features a very mixed cast in terms of ethnicity and sexual orientation. This project developed with input from multiple people, and it's open for everyone to play in. You can read more about the background, the characters, and a bunch of assorted content on the menu page.

Fandoms: Original (Schrodinger's Heroes)
Kink: Leather / latex / rubber
Medium: Fiction
Summary/Preview: After some rough handling by Amazon invaders, Bailey feels unsettled in his own body. Kay suggests kink as a way to reclaim himself. What makes Bailey feel safe are the precautionary materials of his hardware expertise, mainly rubber and latex.
Content Notes: Nonconsensual sex: brief mention of prior attempt at sexual assault. All activity within the current time of the story is consensual.
Additional Information: NSFW. Canonical characters of color (Kay is Hispanic and Bailey is mixed race). Power exchange. Bondage. Fingering. Use of sex/kink for emotional healing.

"Insulating Layers"

Bailey lies nude on the bed. He can feel the rubber sheet, cool and smooth beneath him. The room is quiet but his mind is not. His mind plays and replays the images from the battle, Amazon invaders from another dimension grabbing him. Their big hands left angry bruises, so outraged that a man would take up weapons and stand against them. Even now the memories crowd against him, refusing to leave him alone. Bailey wants his body back.

"Eyes on me," Kay reminds him, her voice pulling him back to the present like the snap of a rubber band. She squeezes herself into the latex dress. The neckband stretches over her head, leaving her upper back bare. She tugs her black curls out from under the tight material. Her hands straighten the skirt that reaches halfway down her thighs. Bailey cannot take his eyes off her now. As she turns, he sees the taut creamy latex stretched over her breasts. Her nipples show through the translucent dress, dark brown like Spanish figs, contrasting against her fair skin. Lower down, he can see the black delta between her thighs.

"What is your will, Fair Dulcinea?" he says. Kay always reminds him of that legendary beauty, when she takes off her soldier clothes and dresses for pleasure instead.

Kay laughs. "I doubt that Don Quixote's lady-love ever wore anything like this!" she says, sitting down beside him. The bed creaks under her weight as the rubber sheet pulls and stretches along the skin of his back. "My will is ... whatever it takes to make you feel safe."

They had talked about this, negotiated carefully for over an hour. Bailey might not match Kay's extensive experience with sexual adventures, but he held enough curiosity that when she suggested this as a means to reclaim his body, he agreed to try it.

"I want that too," Bailey says.

Kay buckles the cuffs around his wrists and ankles, their heavy-duty innertube rubber gleaming darkly against the natural tan of his skin. She strokes her fingers through the brown waves of his hair. Then she secures the cuffs to the corners of the bed with lengths of tough plastic chain. There is no collar but there is a leash, the ground cable that runs from his anti-static wristband down to an alligator clamp that attaches to one of the grounding ports in the wall of his room. Her fingertips trace his wrist between the cuff and the wristband, making sure they lie parallel and do not pinch his skin.
Bailey can feel the care that Kay takes with him, walking the sharp edge of risk. She is Hispanic and not white; he is mixed race and not black; but slaves and slave owners walk through both their ancestry, casting long shadows. This, too, is part of what he needs: to be held gently, not harshly, but relentlessly all the same by someone who understands how perilous that power can be.

Kay places a rubber squeaky toy in his right palm. Bailey closes his hand over it. The nubbled surface feels faintly powdery under his fingertips. "Show me yellow," she says, and he thumbs the thing twice, a short eep-eep. "Show me red," she says, and Bailey clenches his fist with a long eeeEEEEeep.

"Open," Kay says.

Bailey opens his mouth and she fits the rubber bit of the gag between his teeth. It does not jingle because the metal side-rings are wrapped with electrical tape. Kay's fingers whisper through his hair again as she fastens the leather strap securely behind his head. The rubber presses against his tongue, firm and bitter and familiar. The weight of it in his mouth equates to the handle of his favorite screwdriver that he holds with his teeth when both his hands are busy at repairing some vital bit of hardware.

It is like throwing a switch, somewhere in the back of Bailey's brain. This is what makes him feel safe. This is how Bailey handles power, with the proper tools and protection. He is surrounded by layers and layers of insulation shielding him from anything harmful, grounded and wrapped in the smell and taste of the rubber bit on his tongue, the sound and texture of the rubber sheet shifting under his back, the sight of pale latex embracing Kay's curves. He is secured by the cuffs and the chains and the leash, held fast by this release from freedom, so that for a time he need not think or decide but only be. He is not responsible for saving the world tonight. He is not responsible for anything at all. Bailey's breath escapes in a sigh of relief as his tense muscles uncoil.

Kay murmurs to him in Spanish, her home language, the one she speaks to the people she loves. She does this with all the members of Schrodinger's Heroes, even the ones who do not understand Spanish, and they know what it means for her. "¡Te adoro!" she says to him. "Dejame estar contigo."

Bailey's Spanish is largely limited to practical matters, but he knows enough for this. He meets her dark eyes with his own. "Si," he says to her. "Te necesito."

When Kay puts on her gloves, the snap of the latex pushes Bailey down even further into the warm safe space within himself. Gloves are for working with the most delicate and vital of equipment. The last of his tension drains away.
Kay touches him. She takes his body in her strong, gentle hands and returns it to him. She strokes his skin until it comes alive for her. The dark hairs stand up as waves of shivery delight course through him.

Need pools in his belly, thrums, and runs lower. Bailey's eyes flutter shut.

He hears the click of the lid as Kay pours out the lubricant. She smoothes it along his cock, down over his balls, and lower still to the furled core of him. She teases him with her fingertips for long moments.

The light touch lingers, until he whines with it. His hips hump against the rubber sheet where sweat begins to pool beneath him.

Kay slides two fingers inside him. For Bailey it is like the prongs of a power cord plugging into an electrical socket. He is grounded; he is connected; he is charged.

Kay opens him with her left hand. She works tenderly, powerfully. Her right hand strokes his shaft in a steady rhythm.

Bailey has an on button. Kay presses it, and wrings an orgasm from him with a practiced grasp. Bliss flares behind his eyelids.

Then there is darkness, and quiet. Bailey is alone in his own skin again, at home, as it should be. Everything about him is his again.

Kay peels herself out of the latex. She releases Bailey from the restraints. She mops him off with a damp towel, then strips the rubber sheet from the bed and rolls him expertly onto dry cotton.

A single blanket settles over him like a dustcover. Kay turns off the light. "Sleep safe," she says to him, and Bailey does.

* * *


1) The Amazon invasion is described in the apocryphal episode "Last Woman Standing."

2) Kay's dress looks like this.

3) Fair Dulcinea and Don Quixote are famous characters from Spanish literature. Read the novel online for free.

4) The bit gag looks like this.

5) "Home language" refers to a heritage language spoken among family in private, which differs from the surrounding mainstream language. It can carry a strong sense of intimacy and bonding.

6) ¡Te adoro! Dejame estar contigo. -- I adore you. Let me be with you.

7) Si. Te necesito. -- Yes. I need you.

(no subject)

Date: 2012-10-12 03:21 am (UTC)
technoshaman: Tux (Default)
From: [personal profile] technoshaman
innnnteresting. Focus almost entirely on the power. and, never seen footnotes in a story this short, but they help. (They wouldn't work in print! Happiness is, living in the future :)


Date: 2014-10-17 06:08 am (UTC)
dialecticdreamer: My work (Default)
From: [personal profile] dialecticdreamer
But I love the way that it's /reclaiming/ rather than /manipulating/, and it is /very/ clear that Bailey is the one /with/ the power and control, despite the apparent denial of it. For Bailey, all of the restraints equal /security/, which I don't think I've seen portrayed this clearly anywhere else.


ysabetwordsmith: Cartoon of me in Wordsmith persona (Default)

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