CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“No,” Damien said, scowling.
“Oh, come on. It will only be for a little while,” I pleaded.
“No means no means no,” he insisted.
“Why not?” I crossed my arms over my chest, huffing.
“I am the Dominant. You are the submissive. The submissive does not control the Dominant.”
“But it's for my birthday. You asked what I wanted, and I'm telling you.”
“What you're asking of me would be like me asking you for anal sex.”
“It's not like I'm going to stick anything up your butt.”
“I don't care. It's the principal of the matter.”
“You're no fun.” I sulked.
“Now, tell me what else you'd like. I don't have a lot of time to go shopping.”
“There's nothing else I want.”
He sighed, leaning back against the sofa. “Why do you have to be so difficult?”
“I thought it was a rather reasonable request. It's not going to cost you anything.”
“Why do you want to do it anyway? Did Danica get to you? I was afraid to let you go with her, but I didn't think she'd turn you.”
“She didn't turn me. I just . . .” I looked away from him.
“You just what, wanted to experiment with me? Sorry, she already pitched me that line,” his voice was harsh.
“No. That's not it at all,” I said, offended.
“Then what?”
I paused, feeling a bit uncomfortable to admit it aloud, “I want a part of you that she hasn't had.”
He was silent for a moment, thinking. “It would be a really big deal for me to give up control.”
“And that's why it's so important to me. I know you've never done it before. At least, she made it sound like you've never done it before. That's why it would be such a great gift.”
Damien sighed again, “You do realize that if I do this, I'm so asking you for anal for my birthday.”
I giggled, “Sure, I'll give it to you up the butt for your birthday.”
“Cheyenne, I'm serious. You're asking me to do something that's going to make me very uncomfortable.”
“Why would it make you uncomfortable? You trust me, don't you?”
He hesitated, making me feel absolutely horrible.
“You don't trust me,” I said.
“It's not that. It's not you,” he stumbled over his words. “I just don't trust anyone to that degree.”
“I promise I won't shove anything up your butt.”
“Then what would you do to me?”
“I don't know. I haven't thought that far in advance yet.”
“You're lying.” He furrowed his brow.
“No. Really. I mean, flogging you might be nice, but I really don't know. I haven't thought much past the point of actually having you tied up.”
“Well, that doesn't make any sense.”
“It doesn't matter. It's what I want.”
I felt like we were at a stalemate. He wasn't going to budge, and I truly didn't want anything else from him. The best I could hope for was to salvage the rest of the evening.
“My father is coming home tomorrow. I want you to meet him,” I changed the subject.
“Another request I'm not very comfortable with.”
“Comfortable with it or not, you agreed to it. You'll come over for an early dinner on Friday, around six o'clock. Afterward, I'm taking you to meet my mother.”
“Both parents in one night. Double whammy,” he sounded genuinely unhappy.
“I'm celebrating my birthday with them on Friday, and I want you to be there. We've been together for a while now, and they still haven't met you.”
“Don't you think they'll have issues with me being older?”
“My mother doesn't care. My father doesn't know, and if I don't tell him, I doubt he'll figure it out. You don't look your age.”
“But I look older than you.”
“By a few years. It's normal for a girl to date a guy who is a few years older than her.”
“Fine. I'll meet your parents,” he relented.
“I told them you're my boyfriend, so I'll expect you to play the part.”
“So demanding. Are you sure Danica didn't get in your head?” he teased, pinching my side.
I swatted his hand away. “I think it's good that I'm being more open and honest with you about what I want.”
“I suppose.”
“What? Would you have me silent, barefoot, and pregnant in the kitchen?”
He arched an eyebrow, and I couldn't tell if the look was sarcastic or disturbed. “I'd rather you be bound and gagged in the bedroom.”
“Friday. My house. Six o'clock. Wear something nice. I want you to make a good impression,” I said before leaning forward to give him a sloppy kiss on the lips.
“Yes, ma'am.”
On Thursday, my father arrived home from another long run on the road. He greeted me with tempered enthusiasm, probably still weary from the road. By Friday, he was in a much better mood, though that could have been entirely because it was my birthday. Whatever the case, he seemed a lot happier.
When I got home that afternoon, I took a quick shower and then went to work cooking dinner. My father had offered to take me out to eat for my birthday, but I really wanted to make dinner for the two most important men in my life. Perhaps it seemed a bit strange, but it meant a lot to me, watching them both enjoy a meal I prepared with my own hands. Hopefully, they'd get along, and the evening would be perfect.
The doorbell rang at promptly six o'clock. Damien was punctual as ever. He was dressed to impress in a pair of black skinny jeans and a beige sweater with black loafers. His hair was neatly spiked, but he still had his five o'clock shadow. Apparently, shaving hadn't been part of cleaning up. Regardless, he looked more put together than normal.
When I opened the door, he smiled warmly at me, though I could see the discomfort behind his eyes. No matter how hard he tried to hide it, I could tell he was nervous about meeting my father. I couldn't help but wonder when was the last time he'd been introduced to a girl's parents.
“Mister Grear,” Damien greeted my father in the living room. He had been sitting on the sofa watching television and promptly stood when Damien and I entered the room. They shook hands, locking eyes in a very awkward manner.
“Mister Reed, it's a pleasure to finally meet you,” my father replied before releasing Damien and taking his seat on the sofa. Damien sat in the armchair.
“The pleasure is mine. Cheyenne tells me you're an over the road truck driver. It sounds like hard work.”
“Not so much hard as it is long.”
Phew. They're talking and getting along. Good deal.
“I'm going to leave you boys alone for a bit while I finish setting the table,” I said before leaning down to give Damien a kiss on the cheek and then retreating to the kitchen.
When the table was set, I called them into the dining room for dinner. We started with a simple garden salad, though my father barely touched his. The main course was roast beef with mashed potatoes, and dessert was yellow birthday cake with chocolate icing that my father had bought earlier in the day when he had gone out to get groceries for the dinner. Most of the meal was spent in silence. While the ambiance was pleasant, I could tell that both men were a bit uncomfortable in each other's presence.
When dinner was over, my father gave me a birthday card with fifty dollars in it. That had been his customary gift ever since I turned sixteen. I wasn't sure if it was because he felt he had lost touch with me, or because he just thought that money was the best gift for a woman grown. Whatever the case, I took it graciously and thanked him, giving him a big hug and kiss upon the cheek.
Before we left, Damien and my father exchanged goodbyes. Things couldn't have gone more smoothly. While I couldn't tell if my father truly liked Damien or not, he hadn't scowled at him or said anything demeaning or degrading, so I took that as a good sign.
My mother received Damien with far more vigor. As soon as she laid eyes on him, the first thing she said was, “Oh my. You're even more handsome in person.” To which Damien gave me a funny look, and I was forced to explain, with some embarrassment, that I had shown her shirtless pictures of him.
To make matters worse, my mother took the liberty of lifting up his sweater to see if his abs were real. He took all of her poking and rubbing with grace, absorbing her flattery as if it was normal conversation. I, on the other hand, was beet red when she was done with him.
Once the introductions and my embarrassment were over, we settled down in my mom's living room to open presents. If there was one thing that my mom loved to do, it was shop for me whenever there was a gift giving holiday. She got me three shirts, a pair of pajama pants, a pair of shorts, some body wash and a loofah, and a toothbrush. Much like my dad's fifty dollar card, I could always count on getting a toothbrush as a gift. Apparently, my mom worried that I didn't change mine out enough.
Damien and my mother got along surprisingly well, which I was pleased with. She was even able to make him smile and laugh a few times. By the end of the night, she was hugging him like he was her son and I was the stranger. Traitor!
We ate another round of birthday cake, this time chocolate with chocolate frosting, Damien loaded up his Corvette with my birthday presents, we said our goodbyes, and then my mother ran outside and humped Damien's car before we left. My eye twitched as I watched her, my mouth falling open into a horrified gap.
“Marry this one,” she blurted out. “He has money.”
Damien laughed lightheartedly, but I was absolutely mortified. In all honesty, I was never happier to get him away from her. While I loved her dearly, I wasn't sure how much more humiliation I could stomach. It would be a long time before I brought the two of them together again, or at least not until I had a talk with my mom about what she could and couldn't do around him. Weirdo.
“Your mom is funny,” Damien told me as he started the engine.
“My mom is embarrassing,” I grumbled.
“I think she likes me.”
“A bit too much.”
“I think she likes my car more.”
“You should wash it tomorrow.”
We drove back to my father's house in silence. Well, not so much silence. Damien had the radio on, but we weren't talking. I was too busy wondering what my dad thought about him. Who knows what Damien was thinking about?
When we arrived, Damien killed the engine to spend a few more minutes with me before he had to send me back inside.
“You should come in,” I suggested with a devious grin.
“I'm not having sex with you while your father is home.”
“Why not?” I pouted.
“Because you're too loud.” He smirked.
“That's your fault. Maybe if you weren't so rough, I wouldn't be so loud.”
“You like it rough.”
“Yes, I do,” I admitted, feeling my clit pulse in agreement.
“I like your parents,” he changed the subject.
“I'm glad. I still want you to come inside.”
“We'll have all day tomorrow together.”
“Tomorrow isn't my birthday though. Tonight is my birthday. And I want birthday fuckles.”
“You'll get birthday fuckles tomorrow.” He gave me a warning look.
“We could do it in the car.” I slid my hand onto his thigh, sneaking it up to his cock.
“Chey, I'm not fucking in this car. Do you have any idea how uncomfortable that would be? We'd probably break something.”
“You're no fun.” I pulled my hand away, frowning.
“Tomorrow. I promise. I have lots of things planned for you that you're really going to enjoy. Good things come to those who wait.”
“What kind of things?” I wiggled in my seat with a grin.
“You'll find out tomorrow. Now, you better get back inside. I'm supposed to be making a good impression, remember? I wouldn't want your father to think I'm defiling you out here.”
“I wish you were defiling me out here,” I huffed. “Can I at least masturbate tonight? It is my birthday, after all.”
He sighed, “Fine. I'll allow it. Just tonight though.”
“Yay!” I jumped up and down in my seat like a small child. “I shall fap to thoughts of being with you tomorrow.”
“Good girl. Now, go inside and spend time with your father.”
“Yes, Sir.” I leaned over to give him a final kiss before exiting the vehicle and popping the trunk to get my presents and take them inside.
With a content smile on my lips, I watched Damien's car until it disappeared around the corner. Tonight couldn't have gone any better. I just hoped that the following day would be equally awesome.
By the time I got inside, my father had already headed to bed. It wasn't until the next morning that I was able to ask him what he thought of Damien. He didn't seem too opinionated. All he said was that Damien seemed like a good guy, and as long as he made me happy, that was all that mattered. It was the best I could hope for since they had only met once. My father had never been very invested in my love life, but it made me happy to know he approved of Damien.
I arrived at Damien's house a little after noon only to transfer vehicles and head back out on the road. He took me to eat at a Brazilian steakhouse. The atmosphere was a bit stuffy for my taste, but the food was excellent. There were cuts of beef and lamb and pork, along with sausage links, and chicken legs, and bacon wrapped chicken breast. Most of the meat was served rare, which wasn't to my liking, so I mainly dined on chicken and pork. Afterward, Damien asked if I'd like dessert, but there was only one kind of dessert on my mind.
When we got back to his house, I was feeling less than sexy from having such a full stomach, but that wasn't going to stop me. We sat on the sofa for a few minutes to let our food digest, and when I had had enough of lazying around, I began pawing at Damien's jeans.
“What?” he asked, looking down at me with hooded eyes as if he was about to fall into a meat coma.
“Birthday fuckles. You promised.”
“Can we take a nap first? I'm not exactly at the top of my game.”
“Fine,” I sighed, standing and grabbing him by the hand to pull him towards the bedroom.
“What are you doing?”
“Putting you to bed. The sooner you sleep, the sooner we fuck.”
“You're so impatient,” he laughed. “Didn't I tell you that good things come to those who wait?”
“I never claimed to be patient.”
We curled up together on Damien's bed, and within half a heartbeat, he was snoring loudly by my side. I smirked at him, watching him sleep. While the sound coming from him was less than attractive, he still looked gorgeous, and oh so rapeable. What would he do if I took his cock out and started sucking on it? Probably get mad. I scowled at the thought, settling down beside him and closing my eyes to sleep.
The day passed by unnoticed, thanks to being asleep for most of it. When I finally awoke, Damien was nowhere to be seen. I yawned and rubbed my eyes, then rolled off the bed to go search for him. Not surprisingly, I found him in the living room, curled up on the sofa with a book. The man loved to read.
“What time is it?” I asked, yawning again.
He looked at his watch. “Almost four.”
“What time did you get up?”
“About thirty minutes ago.”
“We slept for a long time.” I leaned on the side of the couch, looking over at him.
“We did.” He set the book down, returning my gaze. “Are you ready for part two of your birthday present?”
“Part two?” I gave him a curious smile. “There are parts to my birthday present? I thought it was just going to be dinner and sex.”
“Well, dinner was part one. There are three more parts though.”
“And what are the other three?”
“Would you like to find out?”
“Mhm.” I nodded.
Damien stood, rounding the sofa and taking me by the hand to lead me out of the room. We turned the corner to the classroom, and I could only imagine he had a special session planned. My heart drummed softly in anticipation, my body quickly warming up from thoughts of kinky sex. Out of habit, I took a seat on the bed, assuming the Teach position, wondering if I should be undressing instead. I would wait for Damien's order. When we were inside this room, my submissive nature was stronger than ever, perhaps because this was where most of my training took place, and most of my punishment as well.
Damien went to the chest of drawers and opened up the top drawer, looking at the contents with a sigh before he turned around to face me. “This is part two,” he said.
I sat there for a moment, confused. “What is, Sir?”
“Come find out.”
Apprehensively, I stood, wondering if this was some kind of trick or riddle. When I looked in the drawer, I found a restraint system, a flogger, a ball gag, a blindfold, a thick leather collar, nipple clamps, and some rope. I was no less confused than before. Did he mean to have another scene with me?
“Should I get undressed, Sir?” I asked.
“If that's what you want.” He looked down on me, but his eyes lacked the intensity I was used to seeing.
Nervously, I began shedding my clothing, folding each garment as it came off and placing them on the chest of drawers. Damien stayed by my side, as still as a statue, watching me. His gaze made me uncomfortable, but I continued until I was naked, presenting myself before him.
“What now, Sir?”
“Whatever you want. This is your gift.”
I peered down into the drawer, trying to compose my own fantasy. Nipple clamps weren't my favorite thing, so I'd take a pass on those. We'd never used a ball gag before, but I didn't like the idea of not being able to vocalize my safety words. The flogger was familiar, definitely something I wouldn't mind experiencing again. Everything else in the drawer was Chey approved.
“I want birthday spankings,” I said, thinking that was the only thing missing.
“Alright. If that's what you want.”
Damien sat on the edge of the chair, leaving enough room, so I could lay over his lap. I did so as daintily as possible, my cunt already pulsing from the desire to feel his large hand warming my backside with sharp slaps.
“Nineteen,” Damien said. “Count them off and thank me after each one.”
“Yes, Sir,” I replied enthusiastically, trying not to wiggle.
The first blow sent delicious heat raging through my butt.
“One. Thank you, Sir,” I responded.
Each strike added to the fire, landing on alternating ass cheeks. My mouth twisted into a lusty grin, my loins moistening at the pleasurable pain. By the time Damien got to nineteen, I was worried my juices might start running down my legs. I made a soft satisfied moan as I pulled myself off of his lap, standing in front of him.
“Did you enjoy that?” Damien asked.
“Yes, Sir.”
“What else would you like for me to do?”
“I suppose I would like to be restrained, blindfolded, and flogged, Sir.”
He gave me a half-quirked smile. “This isn't what I expected at all. Or perhaps you mistake my intent.”
“What?” I looked up at him, breaking away from my submissive stance.
“The stuff in the drawer isn't for me to use on you. It's for you to use on me,” he paused. “Unless, of course, that's not what you want. I would gladly use it on you instead.”
My mouth fell open in disbelief. Was he actually going to let me dominate him? After all of that arguing about it.
“I did misunderstand,” I replied quickly, feeling a bit embarrassed about it.
“It's fine. Let's get you all tied up. Go lay down on the bed.” He stood, approaching the chest of drawers.
I placed my hand on it, looking up at him. “No. You offered, and I'm going to take you up on it. Does this mean I get to be your Domme tonight?”
He let out a short laugh. “You're pressing your luck, little girl.”
“That's Mistress Little Girl to you, slave.” I grinned wickedly.
“Slave now, is it? You're already taking this too far.” He took a step away, though his words were playful.
I grabbed the flogger out of the drawer and gave him a hard smack on the hip, which elicited no reaction. The thing felt heavy in my hand, unnatural, though I supposed that I'd get used to it soon enough.
“Get undressed,” I told him, flopping down into the chair with flogger in hand.
Damien reached for the bottom hem of his T-shirt to pull it over his head. I lashed out at him with the flogger again, making him stop and give me a quizzical look.
“Slowly. Like a stripper,” I instructed.
“Do you want me to dance for you too?” he asked, though I was pretty sure he wouldn't actually do it.
“Nope. Just undress slowly, facing me. I want to see all of you.”
Damien rolled his eyes, and I smacked him again. Though he didn't react to it, I rather enjoyed hitting him with the flogger. It seemed more like a toy to me than a device to inflict punishment with.
Damien revealed an inch of skin at a time, now moving at a more desirable pace. I soaked him in, trying to picture him from the perspective of a Domme instead of a lover. This man belonged to me, and tonight I could use him for my pleasure, however I saw fit. It was an exciting thought, though I felt absolutely clueless about what to do with him once I got him naked. A thousand different scenarios had played through my mind after watching Danica with her client, and yet now my brain stood completely empty, as if my entire memory bank of perverted thoughts of domination had been erased. All I could do was sit back, enjoy the show, lick my lips at the delicious man flesh before me, and grasp at straws of what I thought I was supposed to do to him.
Soon, Damien was naked in front of me. I had seen him naked dozens of times before, but never quite like this. He assumed the Stand position as soon as he had finished placing his clothing on the chest of drawers beside mine, now waiting obediently for my next command.
“You don't have anything I could chain you up with? I'd really like you restrained standing,” I said.
“You could use the cuffs to put my hands behind my back, Mistress.”
“That's not what I meant. I want your hands above your head.”
“I could hold them in place, Mistress.”
“Still, not what I meant,” I grumbled.
“Hang on for a moment. I'll be right back.”
Damien broke position and left the room. For a moment, I thought about chastising him. He hadn't requested permission to leave, which was bad behavior for a submissive. He'd be racking up punishment time if this were real.
A minute or two later, he returned with a strange bar in his hand. It wasn't until he fastened it to the door frame that I realized what it was.
“Can you even do a pull-up?” I asked, then felt bad for sounding so rude.
He gave me a look of offense, then gripped the bar and did a pull-up facing away from me. The muscles in his back flexed beautifully, as did other muscles down his body. My eyes washed over him hungrily, and I was suddenly unsure if restraining him was actually what I wanted. Fucking him would have been a lot more to my needs, but I knew I had to clear my mind of that for now if I wanted to make the most of this little session.
“My big strong man,” I said with a grin, setting the flogger down and taking the restraints from the chest of drawers.
When I flanked Damien's side, he turned and held out his wrists to me. I put the first cuff in place, then made him lift his arms, so I could hook the chain over the pull-up bar before fastening the second cuff around his wrist. He didn't look the least bit uncomfortable bound, which I found surprising. To be honest, I had expected him to argue the entire time, or at least put up some kind of a fight, though I was admittedly thankful that he hadn't. I probably would have caved under pressure, something he didn't need to know.
By the time he was positioned in the doorway, I still had no clue what I planned to do with him. Looking at him was nice, but it would get awkward soon enough. Briefly, I thought about grabbing the nipple clamps, but ended up taking the flogger in hand again instead. Not knowing what I was going to do was beginning to cause me anxiety, mainly because I worried about Damien growing impatient.
I approached him, mustering up as much confidence as I could fake. The flogger slapped lightly against my palm as I paced back and forth in front of him, trying to seem intimidating.
“Now that I have you, what should I do to you?” I asked, honestly hoping for some form of suggestion.
“Whatever you desire, Mistress.”
You between my legs is what I desire. As sexy as this is, it's just making me nervous.
Feeling like I needed to make some kind of move, I stepped up to Damien, running the flogger up between his legs and staring deeply into his eyes. His entire body tensed, and I saw the first signs of fear. My heart skipped a beat as I thought about all the different things I could do to him, the realization that he was at my mercy finally setting in.
“Are you afraid, slave?”
The word had a nice ring to it, and it oddly didn't sound too foreign on my tongue. What if I enjoyed this more than I expected? It was a strange thought, and one that brought a tremor of apprehension with it. I didn't want to end up losing Damien as Danica had, but I couldn't pass up this opportunity, not when it was likely the only one I would get. This is what I had asked for, and this is what he was giving me. It was a gift I would not see wasted.
“No, Mistress.” Damien's eyes betrayed his words.
“Maybe you should be. You're all tied up, and I can do whatever I want with you. Cause you pleasure or pain.”
“I trust that Mistress will be gentle with me, as we had agreed upon.” His expression turned stern, pulling me out of the fantasy for a moment. It was a lot harder to maintain my dominant stance than I had imagined.
“Me being gentle will depend entirely on you.” I poked his chest for effect.
Damien's jaw clenched, and I could sense he wanted to say something, but knew better. His gorgeous cock was flaccid, obviously taking no enjoyment in what was going on. I couldn't help but wonder if whipping him would change that, or if I could expect him to remain unaroused through the entire scene. That wouldn't be fun at all. If he wasn't getting off to it, then what was the point. Sure, I liked him bound and under my control, but half of the pleasure came from him enjoying it. I wanted to see his cock hard, pointing out like a spear, twitching and dripping like Danica's submissive's had been. This wouldn't do at all.
I sneaked around him, so he couldn't see me. Very lightly, I trailed the flogger between his legs again, watching his ass muscles flex. Taking a deep breath, I wound the flogger back and laid the first lash across Damien's back. His body jolted a bit, and I heard a hiss of discomfort fall from his lips. To be honest, the whole display made me feel guilty. While the idea of flogging him had once been fun, I was liking it a lot less in action.
No. You started this. You can't back out now. This was what you wanted, isn't it?
“You will count and thank me for each lash,” I told him, though my voice was trembling as I spoke. Hopefully, it sounded more like wrath than fear.
“Yes, Mistress,” Damien replied in a dull tone.
The second strike landed across his ass. Again, he winced and hissed in pain, counting and thanking my afterward. And again, I felt horrible for it. After the third blow, I realized I could go no further. I wasn't enjoying this. We would have to try something different.
When I squeezed around Damien, I found his cock still flaccid. He's not enjoying this either. He looked at me with nothing but respect, but said nothing.
Timidly, I returned to the chest of drawers, placing the flogger back inside and looking at the contents desperately. I'm being an epic fail as a Domme. I should be making him grovel and submit. But if neither one of us likes it, then what's the point?
Frustration was overwhelming me. This wasn't going anywhere near how I had envisioned it. In my mind, I had been powerful and assertive, and he had cowered beneath me, enjoying the abuse I bestowed upon him and begging for more. We were different people in reality though. Fantasizing couldn't change that I was submissive by nature, and he was dominant.
With a sigh, I surrendered, walking back over to Damien to unfasten his wrist cuffs. If he was confused, it didn't show in his eyes. He simply watched me.
“Have you had enough already?” he asked, not sounding surprised in the least. The fact that he didn't call me Mistress was enough to let me know he thought our little scene was over.
“You're not reacting to anything I do to you,” I grumbled.
“How would you like for me to react?”
“I don't know.”
“You hadn't thought about that either?”
“I didn't really have a lot of time to plan.”
“I don't think that's the case.” He towered over me, his gaze darkening, the balance of control shifting as we spoke.
“Meh,” I grunted.
“I recall there being something else that you wanted, something we would both enjoy.”
“What's that?” My mood was soured, but I was open for suggestions.
“No is not a safe word,” Damien said.
Before I could even think, he was grabbing me and throwing me back toward the bed. I stumbled, nearly missing the mark, landing awkwardly on the side of it, having to use every muscle in my body to keep from falling to the floor, my mind utterly baffled. He came at me, looking angry. When he reached me, his hands were rough, pulling me up onto the bed, absent care of whether or not he was hurting me. Part of me thought to struggle, but I knew what was coming next, and it was something I definitely wanted. He stood over me, looking dangerous, all naked muscle and tousled hair.
“I'm going to rape you now,” he told me.
“You can't rape the willing,” I quipped.
“No. You can't. That's why I don't want you to be willing. I had hoped telling you that no isn't a safe word would have been enough. You wanted to do a play rape scene, did you not? If I remember correctly, it was on your contract.”
“Oh.” I blushed, feeling a bit stupid. That's what he meant. That's why he looked so angry and scary. “I do.” I nodded.
His expression was dead serious. “Know that once I start, I won't stop. No amount of screaming or telling me that I'm hurting you will gain my sympathy. No isn't a safety word. And I won't accept yellow either. The only word that will make me stop is red.
“During this session, I will do whatever I want to you. Whether it's something you enjoy or not will be of no concern to me. I will fuck you as hard and as violently as I like. And you will submit, because you'll have no choice.
“You're more than welcome to try to fight me off. Hit me as you would an attacker. Try to get away. But know that there are repercussions for your actions. If we play this game, I play it rough.”
I trembled, more out of lust than fear. That was the hottest thing he had said to me in a long time, though I was a bit scared of the truth behind his words. By the way that he made it sound, things could get really violent.
You have your safety word. If he gets too out of hand, you can always say it.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.
I thought about it a moment longer before responding. “Yes, Sir.”
My heart beat so fiercely that I feared it would rip through my chest. I wasn't sure what to expect. But this was something I definitely wanted to experience.
“Are you ready?”
I nodded.
Damien took a deep breath, and then he advanced on me again. We were a tangle of grappling hands as he pushed me down on the bed, easily overtaking me. I kicked at him for good measure, nearly landing a blow between his legs, though my knee ended up digging into his inner thigh instead. You would have thought the injury was the same. In retaliation, I received a sharp slap across the face, which shocked me to the point that I stopped struggling long enough for him to capture my wrists and force them above my head. A tear ran down the cheek he had struck, more from the sting of the blow than fear.
When I had regained my senses, I tried biting at his arms, though it was a pointless effort. They were too high above my head for me to reach. By that point, Damien was trying to get between my legs. I decided to give him a bit of help by wrapping my thighs around his waist and squeezing the shit out of him. He gasped, cursing and letting go of my wrists to try to pry me off. It only made me squeeze harder. For a while, I thought I had the advantage. If anyone looked like they needed to use a safety word, it was him. Then he turned the tides by grabbing me by the throat. The pressure he used scared me into submission. It wasn't a gentle squeeze. My life flashed before my eyes, and I thought I would choke to death on my safety word before I would get to say it. Thankfully, before I had a chance to die, Damien let up, though he still kept his hands on my neck. By that time, tears were streaming down my face from fear and mixed emotions. I wasn't sure if this was such a good idea after all. It was mimicking the real thing far too closely. This was the point where I would stop struggling in fear for my life, and so I did, letting him have full control.
Damien forcefully pressed inside of me, though I was so used to his girth that there was little pain from it. He kept a hand on my throat as he thrust, putting his whole body into it. I stared up at him, watching a stranger move on top of me. It was the oddest thing to see him like this, far removed from the man I knew.
While I was a bit traumatized from the realistic role play, I decided not to let it ruin my mood. If there was one thing that I loved, it was Damien being rough in the bedroom, and this was about as rough as it got. As long as I didn't defy him, I should be able to enjoy the rest of the ride.
For the remainder of our coupling, I felt like a rag doll. My pussy ached from the intense pounding he gave it, fucking me as if it was the last time he'd ever get laid. I was bent and repositioned, struggling briefly every once in a while for sport, though I gave up the second that he started to get too violent.
Damien put me on all fours, and I tried to crawl away, though he pulled me back easily enough, giving me a hard slap across the ass and warning me not to move again. My pussy throbbed in response. If not for the memory of my punishment spanking, I might have tried again. The first strike had been a playful warning though. I would not be so lucky the second time around.
He tunneled inside my slick cunt, placing a hand on the small of my back as he jack hammered into me. Tiny contractions rolled through my clit, though I still hadn't had a full-on orgasm. For it being my birthday, the sex was all about his pleasure. Though I supposed if I was actually being raped, that's how it would go.
When Damien was done with my pussy, he pulled his cock out, rubbing it on top of my ass. Tired of holding up my weight, I rested my head on the pillow, shoving my butt up into the air. Hopefully, he'd eat me out. My cunt was so hot it felt like it might spontaneously combust. A good tonguing would sooth it a bit. I had a good dicking, now I need a good licking. I smirked at my silent little joke.
Damien was still rubbing his glans over my ass. He'd pause occasionally to spank me with his cock. I was just happy my pussy was getting a rest. There's no way I would be walking normal tomorrow.
My body tensed when Damien grabbed his shaft and started rubbing his dick between my ass cheeks. Instinctively, I looked back at him and said, “No.”
He grinned wickedly at me. “I don't recall you having a choice.”
“No, Damien,” my voice was stern.
He repositioned himself, leaning forward so his tip poked at the doorway of my pucker. “Don't move or it might hurt more.”
“What part of no don't you understand?” I straightened myself, but Damien just pushed me back down.
“No is not a safe word,” he reminded me, and I knew he was giving me my final chance to escape.
I licked my lips, thinking. Anal sex had never been something I wanted to do. This was an interesting scenario though. He had already done so many horrible things to me. My jaw was swollen from him slapping me. My neck was likely bruised. My pussy was on fire from overuse. This would be the icing on the cake of our play rape scenario, a scenario I honestly never wanted repeated. He could fuck me roughly as much as he wanted, but not like this. Never again like this.
“No,” I said finally, wondering what had gotten into me.
“Try to relax,” Damien told me, his voice suddenly a lot softer than before. “It will hurt a lot less if you relax.”
“Lube?”
“Yes, lube.”
He crawled off of the bed and went to the chest of drawers, opening up the second drawer and pulling out a bottle of lube. By the time he returned to me, his cock was well lathered with it. I winced as I felt the first dab on my asshole. A warm blush crept up my face as he massaged it in, pushing a finger inside of me. I grunted at the uncomfortable intruder. This was not going to be something I enjoyed, I could already tell.
After a few minutes of prodding and rubbing, a second finger came to join the first. The pressure of the two fingers together was almost painful, and I wondered how I'd ever be able to take a cock back there. Damien was patient though, fingering the tight muscles of my backside into submission until he was able to glide effortlessly in and out.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
I could only assume our play rape session was over. He was being far too gentle and considerate. Perhaps it was because I was finally giving him what he had wanted for so long, and on my birthday, no less. The bastard better enjoy this.
Damien gave his cock another coating of lube for good measure and then tossed the bottle to the side. My entire body tensed as he lined himself up between my legs. I can't believe I'm going to let him do this to me.
His meaty cock head pressed against my virgin entryway, which tightened from the feel of it. Damien gave me another gentle slap on the ass.
“Relax,” he told me.
“Easy for you to say,” I grumbled. “Am I going to give it to you up the butt after this?”
“No.”
He pressed forward, and I could feel my resistant muscles spreading. It was more unpleasant than painful. I gasped, realizing I had been holding my breath.
“Relax,” he said again.
Inch by inch, his phallus slid inside of me. My muscles went absolutely wild from the new intruder. Damien groaned in response, obviously enjoying it. I was too busy processing the strange new sensation to gain pleasure from it. It felt like an uncomfortable fullness, a bit painful, but nothing unbearable. Losing my frontal virginity had been far worse.
Finally, Damien was balls deep, and all I could think about was how horrible it must feel for him. He didn't share my sentiment though.
“This is gross,” I groaned. “I don't understand why you want to do this.”
“It feels great to me,” he replied. “Nice and tight.”
Very slowly, he began bucking. Surprisingly, it felt rather pleasant when he was pulling out, though pushing back in brought with it the filling discomfort. I grunted with each thrust, trying to focus on my body's response rather than my mind's disgust. Damien was more gentle than he had been all night, taking things slow and easy, the complete opposite of the man he had been only minutes before.
I allowed him to ride out his pleasure, amazed that my clit was beginning to respond with approving pulses. No. This is so wrong. You shouldn't be enjoying this. My mind and body were on two different wave lengths, and eventually, my body won over.
While it didn't feel as good as having him in my cunt, taking Damien's cock up my ass wasn't unpleasant. I rocked beneath him, biting my bottom lip, waiting for him to tire. He didn't tire though. Instead, he picked up the pace, sliding in and out of me until my pussy was a mess of confused contractions. My muscles back there had mostly atrophied, but occasionally they would still tense. Damien moaned in response, absorbed in his own pleasure.
Finally, when I didn't think that I could take anymore, I felt him push forward, his body stilling, a guttural moan escaping his lips as he pumped me full of his man juice. Does it really feel that good? I wondered. He was panting when he pulled away from me, his cock quickly softening from its expended efforts. Before I even had a chance to say anything, he was drawing me into his arms on the bed.
“You're not done yet,” I said.
“I'm not?” He gave me a quizzical look.
“I've got a muff burger with your name on it.”
He laughed. “Some of the things that come out of your mouth.”
“And some of the things I want in your mouth. Now get down there and light the candles on my birthday cake.”
As he descended between my legs, I could feel his soft breath on my warm folds. My pussy was absolutely swollen from all the abuse it had taken. Only his tongue could soothe it.
Damien probed a finger inside my opening, and I twisted my fingers into his hair, pulling his face up to look at me. “Tongue,” I told him. “Only tongue.”
“Yes, Mistress.” He smirked before diving in, engulfing my heated parts with his deliciously wet mouth.
I groaned in approval, letting go of his hair and falling back against the pillow, sighing contently as his mouth worked skillfully to sooth the burn. My clit throbbed against the weight of his tongue, a bubble of pulsing pleasure waiting to burst and flood my body. Damien was meticulously slow, staying between my legs far longer than ever before. He brought me up the hill of pleasure, only to let me tumble down again, absent goal reached. I hated him for it, and loved him for it at the same time. Everything felt amazing; my body was alive with desire again, and if it wasn't for the soreness between my legs, I might have even wanted to go for round two.
“Damien, let me come,” I whispered when the torture was more than I could bear. He obliged, flicking his tongue across my engorged pleasure button before baring down on it and massaging until electricity shot through my entire body, and I saw stars.
When he breathlessly came to my side again, I curled up in his arms, satisfied and content. It was a good orgasm, worthy of my birthday.
“You did well,” I told him, nodding.
“Thank you, Mistress Little Girl.” He grinned. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
“For the most part.”
“What wasn't to your liking?”
“I don't think I'm cut out to be a Domme,” I admitted.
“I'm thankful for that,” he sounded relieved.
“Me too. I prefer you on top.”
“What about the anal?”
I wrinkled my nose, not wanting to admit the truth. “It wasn't horrible.”
“But you didn't like it either?”
“It's not something I'd want to do all the time. I still think it's gross.”
“The more we do it, the less you'll think that.”
“We'll see.”
“So, I guess this means I have permission to do it again in the future?”
“I suppose,” I sighed, relenting.
“And the play rape? What did you think of that?”
My blood pressure rose just talking about it. “It's not something I want to do again.”
“Didn't like it, huh?”
“I'll just say this. If you ever slap me or choke me again, you'll wake up the next morning without a penis.”
He winced. “I warned you about what it would be like.”
“And now I'm warning you.” I snuggled down against him. “I may take your balls too. I haven't decided yet.”
“Damn. Greedy girl. Leaving me with nothing.”
“They're mine, as is the rest of you.”
“I am yours,” he said, giving my hand a gentle squeeze, making everything right again.
We laid together for a while before Damien finally went to get a towel from the bathroom and clean us off. By that time, his seed had already run out onto the bed, and I was left lying in a sticky mess. It didn't matter though. All that mattered was that we were together. I was with the man I loved, and that made me happy.
When the mess of sex was mostly cleaned up, he laid back down with me again, gently stroking my hair while I rested my head on his chest. Our bodies fit together perfectly, and I was so relaxed and exhausted that I could feel my eyes growing heavy. I was almost asleep when Damien moved, startling me back awake.
“I still have a few more things to give you for your birthday,” he said.
“More presents?” I sat up, smiling at him.
“I'll be right back.”
I watched as he walked naked out of the room, that gorgeous ass flexing with every step. Maybe he'd let me bite it. That could be birthday present number five. Why I hadn't thought about it when he was tied up, I didn't know. Probably because my mind had been too consumed with thoughts of sex. Stupid wanton body.
When Damien returned, he had a small box in his hand. It was wrapped in paper with balloons on it and had a bow on top that was almost as big as the box itself. He sat on the side of the bed and handed the box to me.
“What is it?” I wondered aloud, holding the box up to my ear and shaking it. It was heavy, but made no sound.
“Open it, and find out.”
My hands went to work tearing away the wrapping paper. Beneath it, the box was black. When I opened the box, I was a bit confused, but smiled, none the less. Inside was a solid stainless steel collar.
Damien took a deep breath, watching my expression. “Do you like it?”
“It's beautiful. Is it another public collar?”
“It's your formal collar.”
My breath caught as I took another look at the collar, realizing what it signified. Now, I was gazing upon it with new-found appreciation. I touched the metal, cool beneath my fingertips.
“It hasn't been six months yet,” I said.
“No, it hasn't. But I don't think I can wait six months. I love you and want you to be with me forever.”
My lips were trembling, and I was fighting back tears. It wasn't the same thing as a marriage proposal, but for some reason, it felt like it. To Damien, it was every bit as good.
“Do you want to take things further and cross the final step to being my submissive?”
“Yes,” I replied without hesitation, then set the box aside and threw my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “Oh, yes. I do.”
“Good.” I could hear the smile in his voice, and that only made me happier. “I'd also like for you to move in with me at the end of this semester.”
“What?” I pulled away from him, shocked.
“I figured, since we're going to be together, you might as well move in. You won't be much farther from the college than you are living with your father. Your parents seem to like me well enough. I'd like to think they know I'll take good care of you. I'd like to think you know I'll take good care of you. Is that something you would want?”
“Yes. Yes. Yes.” I hugged him again, so tightly that I worried I might be choking him.
It was hard to imagine living in a giant mansion, tending to Damien's needs night and day, waking up beside him in the morning, having sex with him whenever I wanted. Maybe years in the future I could have imagined it. Not now though. We had known each other for less than a year, and Damien didn't seem like the type of guy who would move so quickly. Was I dreaming this? Everything felt so surreal.
“Good. It's settled then.” He leaned forward to kiss me on the cheek. “Happy Birthday, Cheyenne.”