La Mer Series - ep. 1 The First Tide [Erotic Audio For Women]

Transcript

Here and here is different, held, still, outside the world is ending in a chaos of salt and water and bruised purple light, but in here the silence is a wage to it, pressure, the scent of ozone from the storm, but something else beneath it, old stone, dry wood, and something clean, sterile almost, it is the scent of a place scrubbed clean of everything that is unnecessary, you can feel the vibration of the sea through the sole of your feet, a deep resonant tremor that seemed to work its way into your bones, the chair is precisely where they said it would be, one chair facing the storm, an invitation or an interrogation, perhaps both, did you enjoy the journey, a deliberately absurd question I know, it is not a journey meant for enjoyment, it is a necessary turbulence, a rising of the palate to bring the city with you, the noise, the expectations, that would be like bringing a handful of gravel to a wine tasting, yeah, the boatman has his instructions, to steer into the swell, to let the sea do its work, to deliver you here unburdened, or at least with your burdens properly shake it loose, please, the chair was placed for you, better, from here you can actually see it properly, it's not a painting, it's a mechanism, the greatest engine in the world, and tonight it is in a particularly honest mood, it is not pretending to be serene, it isn't offering you a gentle laugh, it's actually showing you it's true nature, power, indifference, an endless churning appetite, most people who live by the sea build walls to forget this, they plant gardens, they try to tame it, I prefer to have a clear view of the truth, don't you? The truth is what you came here for, is it not? Well, in one form or another, people rarely undertake such a disorientating journey for a simple conversation, they come here for a verdict, an absolution, a license, they come hoping to be told a secret, the amazing part is that they always believe the secret is mine to give, yeah, look at the way the foam glows at the cliff face, see the undertone, the dark ribbon beneath the chaos, do you see it?

It pulls back twice as hard as the wave pushes forward, a perfect balance of violence, the fight doesn't ask for your permission, the only choice is whether you fight it head on, or maybe surrender and discover where it takes you, that is the only secret I possess, and I've already given it to you, for free. Are you thirsty? Of course you are, the salt air dehydrates the body, it's just a biological fact, but you weren't thinking about your thirst until I mentioned it, you were thinking about your journey, about me, about whether this was a mistake, your mind was telling you a story, a very loud, very intricate story, but your body, your body was quietly, simply thirsty.

What is more through in the moment, is it the story or the thirst? This is the first lesson, and actually it's the only one that truly matters, learning to listen to the engine, not the noise it makes, your mind makes a great deal of noise, a splendid, magnificent, distracting amount of it, I've read your letters, I've seen the architecture of your thoughts, it is a fortress, beautifully designed, impeccable, but you see, fortresses are built for a reason, aren't they? To protect something, or to imprison it, you are wondering what I want, is the question harming right beneath the surface of your skin?

You have prepared a dozen questions, or perhaps a dozen answers for yourself, what should it be, a transaction, maybe an experiment? The whim of a wealthy reclusive man, all of them are plausible, all of them are wrong, all of them are just noise. What I really want is to watch you drink that water, it's such a simple thing, to reach out, to satisfy a primal need, it is no longer simple, isn't it?

Now it's an act, a concession, a statement, if you drink, you are acknowledging your thirst, you are acknowledging that I saw it before you did, you are admitting that the engine is real. If you refuse, you are choosing a story, choosing to let the fortress stand, choosing to pretend you are not thirsty, here in the salt air, with a glass of cold water right behind you. The choice is yours, there is no judgment here, only observation, and we have all the time in the world, the storm will not pass for hours, I can tell you for sure.

There, it wasn't so difficult, was it? The engine wins, and in the end, it always does, the only real question is how much energy we waste in the fighting, how much of our lives we spend pretending not to be thirsty. Thank you, really, that was an act of considerable honesty, and it will be respected.

Now we can dispense with the formalities, the stories, I'm not interested in the woman you perform for your colleagues or your friends or even for yourself in the mirror, that is the fortress and you have just willingly lowered that drawbridge, I'm interested in the ecosystem that lives inside the walls, the part of you that feels the vibration of the sea, and it recognizes as a native language, the part of you that is hungry. May I? There, the engine, a little faster now, a flutter, like a bird caught in a cage of reefs, it has a truth to tell, quite separate from the story you've prepared, my interest is in the engine, not the story, and yours, your pulse is speaking volumes, it's not a rhythm of fear, not entirely at least, here is a cold thin pit, no, this is something warm, take off, this is the rhythm of anticipation.

You see, the fortress you build is not to keep the world out, it's to keep you in, and because the person you are pretending to be capable, calm, controlled, is terrified of the woman who lives inside, the woman who doesn't want to be sensible, the woman who doesn't want to be admirable, the woman who is tired of being strong, that's the secret, isn't it? The one you barely let yourself whisper in the darkest part of the night, it is not that you secretly desire chaos, or pain, or degradation, those are cheap, brutish words, the truth is finer, more exquisite, you have a deep, profound, and utterly overwhelming desire to be relieved of the burden of your own strength, you have for one perfect suspended hour no decisions to make, no battles to fight, and ultimately no walls to maintain, you don't want to be broken, you want to be undone, gently, worshipfully, you want to be explored like a new continent, you want someone to finally see that your strength is not a gift, it is a weight, and you want more than anything in this world for someone to be strong enough to take that weight from you, just for a little while, the fortress is down, the engine is running, and I'm strong enough, the only question left is, will you let me take that weight? You don't need to answer, your pulse already has, it is time for your next lesson, listen, stand up for me, slowly, let me see you in the light, good, now turn and face the window, I want you to watch the chaos reveal its power, but you are not in it, you are here, you are safe, the only storm you need to concern yourself with now is the only one I intend to start inside you, the only anchor you need is my voice, my hands, your clothing, it is beautiful armor, but it remembers the city, the world outside, we don't need it here, rest your hands on the glass, feel the cold, feel the vibration of the sea, and I will attend to this, this small button, a simple piece of shell standing between the woman you pretend to be and the woman you are, there, the first one is undone, your skin is warm, so warm, the air in this room is cool, but you are generating your own heat now, the engine is working hard, another, another, this is an act of reverence, I am learning the weight of the fabric as it falls away, mapping the line of your spine as it is revealed, let it fall, forget it exists, now you are simply a masterpiece, a starting tension and grace to the world, this body is a vessel for your formidable mind, to me.