Little Space Triggers Novels & Stories

“Simply put, either you move to a smaller room… “Or you get a similar bed! “Your room’s three thousand square feet wide with a round European bed. “Not only can you not keep your luck, but your energy will easily dissipate! “Under these circumstances, it’d be easy to get in trouble since many evil things can effortlessly invade your body!” “I see… “Well, how long will it take before my wife awakes? “This won’t happen again, will it? “It is curable, right?”

His fingers quickened their pace, spreading me wider. The room seemed to shrink around me, and as I closed my eyes completely, it happened. The knot released, accompanied by a loud moan, and he didn't stop until my legs were trembling uncontrollably and my entire lower region throbbed with sensitivity. He sat back, his silver eyes fixated on me as he brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean.

“The small remote.” I dig through the tissue and pull out a tiny black remote with a single button and a dial. My fingers tremble slightly as I hold it up. “Turn it on,” he commands softly. I press the button. The egg-shaped toy suddenly comes alive in my hands, buzzing with a strong, steady vibration that travels up my arms. I yelp and drop it onto the bed like it burned me. “My goodness!” I gasp, eyes wide. “It vibrates!” Tristan chuckles, the sound rich and low. “Hence the name. It’s a vibrator, Andrea.”

It’s no accident —though I pretend it is— that the three of us end up locked in this tiny room; the door jammed with a dry click when John tried to close it to keep the cold out, and now neither his strong hands nor Demon’s angry shoulder-pushes can make it budge even a millimeter. The most amusing part is that neither of them wants to admit that what unsettles them isn’t the lack of space, but the fact that it forces our bodies so close that the smallest movement turns into an electric brush of contact.

He sounded so certain, like he’d rehearsed in his head a hundred times before dialling my number. “What?” I whispered. “This is you,” he said hoarsely. “This is exactly you. This is how you work. You don’t do one big thing. You never do one big thing, Lyndsey, because one big thing can be traced. You do fifteen small things. Each one looks like nothing by itself. A snake. A nail. A friendly stranger at the door. And each one on its own, if someone tried to report it, they’d sound paranoid.”

I said, walking into his room, my hands clasped as I scanned the place. It was way bigger than mine was—and I considered my room really big. Hell, it was twice the size of my bedroom back home. “Why do you seem so tense? Don't tell me you're scared of attending a zoom meeting,” Donovan uttered, as I stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. Oh, Donovan, I'm not tense because of the meeting, I'm tense because it’s been two freaking weeks since I last got dicked down, and I fear I am starting to get withdrawal symptoms from your cock.

“What do you mean?” His gaze doesn’t shift. “In BDSM, a trigger’s anything that can push someone into panic or fear. Something that reminds them of trauma, or makes them feel trapped, unsafe. It can be a word. A position. A type of touch. It doesn’t have to make sense. But it matters.” I stare at him, my chest tightening. “You’ve been through something, Red. And you might not know yet what’s going to hit you wrong. But we need to figure it out. Together. Before we start anything.”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he glanced briefly at Celyne before looking back at me. “There were signs of a sudden physical reaction,” he said. “Rapid onset. Sharp abdominal distress. Loss of stability.” I stared at him. Waiting. “Those symptoms don’t usually appear without a trigger.” A trigger. The word landed heavily. My mind started moving. Fast. Too fast. Dinner. The house. Her sudden discomfort. The way everything had been… calm. Too calm. “What kind of trigger?” I asked, my voice lower now.

I feel myself totally slip into little space with this little gesture. “ Please can I have vanilla ice cream , please…Pretty please with sprinkles on top!!” I excitedly jump up and down on my seat while clapping my hand out of joy. Jason looks to me with curious eyes – as if he is judging me. Almost instantly I slip out of my little space – just as we have triggers that make us slip into it , we also have triggers that make up slip out of it : the main trigger being rejection and judgment. My smile fades as I see the reflection of judgment in his eyes. I turn my face to the window and look at the houses that pass by. The car is silent , and it’s silence suffocate me. My eyes burn from it’s u