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Death in Ropes
By : Fatbardha Sulaj & Albert Van Der Steeg ( Albania – U.K. )
The taxi stopped in front of a stately mansion, Ole paid and took her luggage over from the driver. When they walked in Kiko was really amazed about the height of the ceiling. It was all quite different from her apartment in Tokyo. Ole watched her with amusement. “Would you like a tour through the house, or would you rather sit down for a moment with coffee or tea and relax?”
A woman came from the back of the house; she was quite tall, slim and attractive and had blond very short hair. “Ah, here is Eliska. Without her I would be lost”, Ole said. Kiko and Eliska were introduced to each other and shook hands with a little bow. The tall woman took her time to have a good look at the little Asian girl and after that asked them if they would like coffee or tea. They chose tea and Eliska promised to bring it to the living room as soon as possible. Ole went to show Kiko around.
Downstairs were the living room, the large kitchen and a bathroom attached to a long corridor. The tiny Japanese girl felt like she almost drowned in the big space. Upstairs were the master bedroom, Eliska’s room and two spare bedrooms. All rooms had an ensuite. One was quite modern; the other was furnished in a classical style, even with an impressive canopy bed. It was dressed in beautiful draperies. When asked which bedroom Kiko wanted to stay in, she didn’t hesitate one second: the classical of course! She would feel like a princess in this room.
Ole put her suitcases on the floor and asked her if she would like to see the rest of the house or go downstairs for their tea. She urged the big man to continue their tour. So they went on to the next floor. At the end of the stairs was a door and Ole opened it. It led to a big room with a wooden floor, there was not a lot in it. There was a small wooden table; a big cabinet; four chairs against a wall. Kiko noticed three hooks in the high ceiling. And she saw a door at the end of the room. The door was open and she could see that there was yet another bathroom. When she peeked through the door, she saw not only a bath but also a shower cubicle.
“Welcome in my studio”, Ole said, “I expect that we will be spending quite some time over here.” Kiko told she was amazed how big the room was. And Ole told her that sometimes more than one master was working in here, so it was quite useful to have a lot of space.
“Do you think we can have a first session tomorrow morning or do you need to rest a full day? I can imagine you must be quite tired by the journey.” But she assured him she would be really ready for their work the next day. With this knowledge they went downstairs to the tea in the living room.
The first session she came in with a feeling of euphoria, she had proven before that tortures were connected with the feeling of being complete; she just wanted to be a miracle on the strings of the master. It all begins as an artistic game.
Kiko was convinced of the talent of the master, “I will be his fantastic creation,” she thought . Her Asian skin and all the expression on her face showed she was expecting a soft bondage . Kiko was wearing a white shirt and a pair of ripped jeans, below them her were her distinguished white socks visible.
She approached and the master smiled …On the wooden table was an arrangement of ropes in several colours, handcuffs, tape, a camera made by Sony, a Canon camera, everything was ready for the bondage. She loved the sight of it.
Ole asked Kiko if she was ready to start. Kiko answered in the Japanese way, in a soft spoken manner looking a bit shy. “What do you prefer? Can you select what you want me to use?” he asked. “It is not a problem for me to choose and let you bind me in a beautiful way, but I prefer that you decide and go beyond my expectation,”Kiko says quietly.
Master took some ropes, tied her legs, then tied her hands behind her back, and placed the girl against the wall, her head hung forwards, her square black hair covering her face. Ole Taka admired the view that was created by the ropes; her incredible breasts were pressed forward. He had to unbutton the blouse, Kiko became his magic design.
Kiko had fantastic lips, full and red, closed in a nice way … her face showed joy and excitement. Master stood up, took the camera and started filming, trying to get the image from every angle. The camera loved Kiko, Master loved the way he could catch everything of her.
Master buttoned the blouse, took the belt out of her jeans, unbuttoned them and pulled the jeans down and further down. He saw a sublime image …Kiko shone in the ropes…
LITERARY MAGAZINE ATUNIS NR.3 – 4 , MAY 2016
A PUBLICATION OF POETICAL GALAXY “ ATUNIS”
ZËRA NËPËR SHI
Tregim nga Ramiz Kuqi
Ca riga të shiut dhe era që i përcolli pas, i çoi njerëzit nga ulëset e parkut. Urtani u gjend përpara derës dhe po vështronte, pa ditur shkakun e shtyrjes së njerëzve për t’u futur në holl. Dy gra të moshuara , rreth të 7o e më shumë, mezi po ecnin. E mbanin njëra tjetrën për krahu, mbajtur me shkopinj.Zëri i tyre ishte i qartë.Biseda e tyre zgjoi kurreshtjen e Urtanit, i cili sa kishte mbushur të pesëdhjetave.
Ana, që ishte nga një fshat i Llapit, kishte tre djem në kurbet. Jetonte me burrin në një skaj të qytetit , bri asfaltit .Rruga ishte shtruar para disa vitësh dhe kishte nisur të çahet..Ajo po i rrëfente bashkëbisedueses së re nga Gjakova, Lindës .
-Kur vijnë djemtë nga kurbeti?
-Vijnë në korrik, rrëfeu Ana.Kanë gjashtë fëmijë, si pëllumba.Më mbajnë të gjallë në jetë. Kur del pranvera, vrapoj nëpër lulishte e mbjell tëra lulet më të bukura në botë. Fëmijët i duan lulet se lule janë vetë. Ndjehem më e lumtura në botë. Zgjohem herët, u bëj petulla, pogaçe.U ziej vezë të freskëta. Urtakut, nipit tim syshqiponjë, ia ngjyros me ngjyrë kuq e zi. I ha më me endje.Verës nuk e ndjen angushtinë e vapës. Fluturoj nga gëzimi. Shtëpia mbushet me zëra zogjsh.Oborri qesh nga lumnia !
-Je gjyshe me fat,- i tha bashkëbiseduesja e dhomës, me të cilën ajo po banonte për disa ditë.
-Ana ofshau deri në dhimbje. Po, po ,-me fat për disa javë e ndonjë muaj. Kur vijnë, derdh lot, kur ikën më kaplon trishtimi. E nuk di çka bëj. I përqafoj një nga një, por jeta nis të derdhet si lumi i tharë në gusht. Harroj t’i ujis lulet. Gjumi më ik nëpër ëndrra të trishta. Më duket se jam në një ishull të vetmisë. Nga ky deshprim, i shkul një nga një të gjitha lulet. Ç’më duhen lulet pa zogjtë e mi tretur nëpër botë? Me kend të flas? Me qiellin që nuk më kupton? Me yjet që vrapojnë hapësirës së pafund , sikur kanë humbur udhën në mesnnatë. Bie e gjumi më trazon- i tha bashkëbisedueses së dhomës.
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