Torn – Epilogue

(To read Torn Act IAct IIAct III, Act IV)

Note – this post will make no sense at all if you have not read Torn. Its structure, tense and references will assume you have.

After gathering myself, both emotionally and physically, what I perceived as what had happened started to hemorrhage in whatever you choose to believe in as one’s self, soul, spirit, entity, etc. By the bucketful. I felt like I was drowning from the inside out.

This Yet To Be Named Thing that had escaped from wherever he lives inside me (it has to be the from the furthest recesses in the deepest, darkest part of my aforementioned inner self) slithered back to that hole, probably with an evil laughing fit, burping after an engorged feast of emotional bloodletting. A soul parasite sounds about right.

Reality crashed back atop me. I watched Leigh, totally ignorant of her apparent bliss at my gruff, commanding efforts, get dressed. I guess she was floating. I felt like I was drowning. Fast.

“Are you OK??” I must have asked a half dozen times in a multitude of ways.

She nodded in the affirmative. I don’t recall verbal replies, which is typically a huge red flag that she is not alright. At the best I may have received a “Mhhhmmm.”

I could not take my eyes off her. Every motion was studied for hints of troubles left unsaid. She is like that, so it was not out of character even at the time.

“If you had said the safe word I would have stopped” I implored. She knew that. I guess I just needed to hear it myself.

Hugs. Lots of them. Cradling her face, searching its cuteness for anything, especially her baby blues.

What I perceived and took was indifference. I just assumed it was cause, not effect, that it wasn’t the traumatic event my mind raced with.

I mind fucked myself stupid…the irony.

We cleaned up and went to the cook-out, which was nice. In hind sight it was probably very fortuitous that I had that buffer of conversation, laugher, food and just time to not stew in my own poison.

I do recall Leigh being more touchy, flirty in a shy way. The PDAs were wonderful and, to me, could not have come at a better time. She doesn’t recall being more “this is my guy”, but she was.

That evening was intense. We fucked like teenagers left alone in the basement with no parental controls on the satellite TV. She came like a broken fire hydrant all over me. I returned the favor all over her. I needed both of them, one physically, the other emotionally.

It wasn’t until late morning the next day that I fully hit Topspace. And I had never soared as high as I did that day. I fucking Lorded over sensory application. Everything was better. My focus was laser sharp, I had the energy of a triathlete and the mood of a recently baptized convert. It was like being 18, bulletproof, owning a Mustang GT, dating the head cheerleader and had $300 in my pocket.

That evening, gravity collected its dues.

The Topdrop was almost too much to bear. Crashed is an understatement. On top of that was the self-awareness of this dichotomy of what I still believed had happened slamming head-on into the utter bliss of how I felt as a result at 110 MPH. The carnage was exquisite in its ragged details.

“We need to talk” I texted Leigh. Her 🙂 back was 🙂 to my face.

That evening I poured all the hemorrhaging of the past 24 hours onto our dining room table as she sat across from me. I struggled to even look her in the eyes.

Via TDND™ blog I get complimented very often on my way with words. That evening I stammered like a 12-year old trying to find the courage to ask the cute red-headed girl with the big blue eyes to dance.

I talked, no, spilled. Leigh listened to my every word with care, offering her own thoughts, insights, questions. Word by word she bandaged my inner wounds and stopped my soul from bleeding.

That evening was beyond words once the bedroom door closed. We started playing around 10something PM. We did not drift off to exhausted, content, every last orgasm wrung from her spasming body sleep until after 1:30AM. Four separate times we stopped. Three times we started back at it. In an ironic twist Leigh’s own inner “thing” (aka The Cock Slut) made an appearance at the end of the third time and throughout the fourth. She was laughing maniacally with each squirting orgasm.

Still raw inside, the following day was better. We texted a lot, and later that evening another round of verbal triage was administered at the dining room table. Later that night, in that she was literally empty, she made me scream with her mouth. Do the math.

A week’s worth of private introspection, public wound cleaning on the blog via Torn, all of your comments and blog posts on your own perverted interest du jour has helped a lot.

I’ve learned a lot this past week, about myself, my amazing doll Leigh, what it’s going to be like learning to be the best Sir I can to her within both a D/s and married dynamic, and that, yes, I fucking crave taking her against her will.

So the two of us sit here and click away on my trusty MacBook….

Scot Thomas aka The Dom Next Door.

And The Yet To Be Named Beast peering out from deep within.

I’m sure you have not heard the last from….it. But you will hear the next. And I will be better prepared when it escapes again and wants to play with Leigh.

Thanks again for all your support, comments and Likes. This chapter is closed, the story continues.

– Scot

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22 responses to “Torn – Epilogue

  1. I know I personally crave a man with a beast inside who can also reign it in. Again, it’s a pleasure to come along for the ride and get a look inside your curtain, torn or not 🙂

  2. How about The Dark Half? The Shadow Self? Okay, consulting my Latin dictionary (yes, I’m a nerd). Diabolus? Apex? The Furor (Latin for madness). I’m reluctant to name him anything too negative because he is a part of you. Plus, since Leigh loves you, she loves him too.

    I’m glad you’ve made it through this relatively unscathed. I have darkness within me, too, and she is wicked and unfeeling, and, to be honest, there have been times I would not have survived without her.

    Again, thank you for sharing your struggle with all of us. In my eyes, that was an incredibly brave thing to do.

    • Wonderful suggestions all! I’m exploring some names for …..him. I’m sure he’s just laughing his ass off over all the attention.

      I can’t say unscathed, but definitely better off for it. Your words are too kind. I feel a blog post coming (heh) in regards to the last sentiments.

      I think we all have dark doppelgangers inside us. Its just how they manifest, etc.

  3. I’m glad you came to grips with it and agree with Gillian on wanting a man who can let it out and rein it back in.

  4. Reading this saga could not have come at a better time. He and i are preparing for a long few days away from the world….and i know He has…something inside of Him too. i am going to share this blog with Him to hopefully in some way allay His fears. Thank you.

    • Hi Liza! Humbled and honored to see you here. Thank you so very much for the kind words. I am a big (heh) fan of yours. Please feel free to peruse the Archives for other serial stories.

  5. I missed reading your blog a lot this week! Congratulations on “Torn”. I read it this afternoon and got hooked! Scot, it was nice of you to share something intimate between you, Leigh and “Him” (That sounded like a threesome!). There is so much to learn from one’s Id (Take it from Sigmund Freud!). I believe that’s just the tip of the iceberg showing! Looking forward to more of your Id showing. “He” is interesting and I’m sure Leigh’s looking forward to the next time He pays a visit out of your pores.

    It’s good to know how trust and open communication played part in this chapter in your lives. (Learning from the both of you here!) The He-She perspective is a wonderful idea Scot! Tell Leigh to do some more of it. 🙂

    Terribly miss reading your blog on a daily basis! Take care you two!!! xoxo

    • Thank you for this wonderful comment! It means a lot to me, and to us. I agree that “it” is very interesting, but also extremely powerful, dangerous, full of vice and colder than January steel through blast furnace rage.

      I also meekly admit to giggling when you mentioned just the tip & looking forward to more of my Id showing! LOL

  6. @ Scot– Great fucking retelling! And speaking from the I standpoint… I crave for M to lose control, to let loose that demon inside, which he so tightly reigns in. To see wild beneath his eyes… Damn.

    @ Leigh– I agreed with so much of what you said in Act IV. I have tears spring from my eyes when deep throating as well (fuck, I’ve actually puked on two different occassions, just to jump right back on). But the one time I was pushed to actual tears, was our first (and only thus far) experience with fisting. Not only was M’s whole hand inside me, but his other was around my throat, hard. I was fighting my own demons, my own trust in him, and came the closest I ever have to calling “Red,” right when the flying stated… And apparently tears with it. The next thing I was aware of was M craddling my face with one hand, and telling me over and over that it was “okay.” It was very close to the beginning of this venture, and I think I may have scared him a bit, but fuck, it was amazing. Anyway, the point of all of that, is that those tears were completely different than the tears from deepthroating, and the space I as in at that time…

    *hugs and kisses* to both of you. And thank you for sharing your journey with the rest of us. Mwah!

    • Can I just say that this was an awesome reply? I’ve been wondering how far things have to go before a sub will call his/her safeword, and I find it telling that it wasn’t pain, at least not pain alone, that drove you so close but your inner self, same as with Scot.

  7. One of the (many, many) things I love about WIITWD is that it allows us to explore those hidden parts of ourselves, the parts we reject, or that we fear others would reject. It’s controlled chaos and it gets us out of our heads in a way nothing else can.

    Embrace your inner beast. 😀

    ::hugs::

    • I can totally relate to controlled chaos. I don’t know if reject is the right phrase in that I know It’s there. I can’t reject it. Its part of me, like a parasite. If anything I perhaps feed it too much fear of my own to keep it locked up.

      And Leigh has the key…

  8. I’m with Gillian on the name…I always refer to that thing I seek as “the Beast”. I even wrote about such a beast in one of my erotica pieces. I love when a Beast shows itself if I also know its Master has the power to put it back in its cage. Growl….purrrr 🙂 Thank you again for sharing all of this, all of you and Leigh. It was amazing to be along for the ride…..

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