Ryan

 

 

 

I'm an idiot. Sure, every time I have a girl in here, I talk to her. Even with the state I'm in, I can't fuck and play twenty-four hours nonstop, and I don't want to. I need breaks as much as they do, and it’s way more fun to fuck a person than a limp fuck toy with no personality.

But why did I have to go there with her? Why did I have to ask her questions about her past, her life? We could talk about the things we did together, about how it felt to be spanked and fucked again after dinner, how she liked that toy in her ass, how she felt about being tied to the bed frame again when I bound the leather cuffs around her wrists. She's still wearing them, just like the collar.

After dinner, I tied her to the St. Andrews Cross, finally giving her tits the attention they deserve by squeezing clamps around them while I played with her sore clit. I forced two mind-shattering orgasms out of her like that, just enjoying the sight of her floating on a high of aggressive bliss. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and when I freed her from the cross, she was too weak to walk by herself.

I carried her over to the bed and then I fucked her, rough and hard. I fucked her with vicious need, taking everything I could from her as she groaned in sensual agony, unsure whether it was pain or pleasure that took the lead.

I know I was rough with her, I always am. But Laura, my doll, really took it out of me. I've never fallen asleep next to one of my girls. Never. I've never woken up next to any of them. This, again, was a first for me.

And it scares the hell out of me.

But, of course, I could only think of making matters worse by having that unnecessarily intimate conversation with her this morning.

As soon as we were done eating, I gave her a few minutes to freshen up. However, when she walked over to the bathroom to take a shower, I couldn't let her go in alone. She squealed with surprise and excitement when I grabbed her wet body and fucked her mercilessly under the shower, pressing her up against the tiles as the hot water streamed over both our bodies.

She's tight, swollen, and sore from all the rough handling. I might have to resort to another option for our last round.

Time is running out, the end of our date approaching with dreadful certainty. My doll is standing in the middle of the room, her hand at her back, standing still but breathing heavily, as I secure her beautiful body in a complicated rope pattern.

"I don't think I'll be able to work for the next few days," she whispers, sounding pleasantly upbeat. "You're destroying me, master."

Her words flatter me just as much as they harden my yearning cock.

"You won't have to," I tell her. "You won't ever have to work that job again, unless you want to."

"Oh, that's right," she says. Her voice is laced with sadness at the reminder.

"I was going to quit anyway," she adds. "Soon."

"To do what instead?" I ask, while fastening another knot along her back, and then bringing the rope back around to the front. I deliberately caress her hard, pointed nipples as I pass the rope through between them, drawing a soft breathless moan from her lips.

"Move," she breathes. "I'm moving away from the city soon."

My chest tightens, leaving an unwelcome bite in my heart. She's leaving town? Soon?

I shouldn't care. It was clear from the beginning that I would only see her once, for one night. Why does it matter if she's living close by when I won't see her anyway?

But somehow, it does.

"Moving, huh?" I say, trying to appear unfazed by her announcement. "To where?"

"Back to California," she replies. "With my friend. We want to start a new life, spend more time in the sun."

California. She's not only leaving the city, she's leaving the state, this coast, and moving all the way across the country.

"New England isn't exactly known for its sunny weather," I comment, finishing my handiwork at her back. I pull at the rope, causing her to jerk back before she catches herself. She sighs as the rope cuts into her flesh.

I remain standing behind her, my gaze traveling along the backside of her body, taking in the sight of her bruised skin and the hemp rope cutting into her flesh. There's so much more I want to do to her - but so little time.

"Why California, though?" I ask. "That's a pretty significant move."

"It's where I went to school," she says. "I liked it there."

"I see."

I place my hands on her shoulders, taking a deep breath as I try to calm the choking pain suffocating my chest.

It doesn't make a difference. I'm not going to see her again, I'm not going to fuck her again, I won't engage with her in any way after this is done. That was never the plan.

But I know that my thoughts have been drifting during the night with her. Ideas crawled into my head. Ideas so dumb and dangerous that I should be happy about not being able to follow through with any of them.

What if I didn't fuck her, but met her once in a while, as one would meet a friend? What if I learned to calm the overwhelming beast inside me and not let those cravings destroy me again without cutting her out of my life?

What stupid thoughts.

I need to remember who I am. I am not fucking boyfriend material. I don't sit around like a dumb idiot, sharing fucking love poems while having an innocent cup of coffee and holding hands. The idea is fucking ridiculous.

I should be glad that she's moving away. This will take matters out of my hand. It'll make it easier to go cold turkey once I'm done with her.

"On your knees," I whisper in her ear from behind, applying a gentle push on her shoulders. We still have a few hours together, and I should concentrate on that instead of dwelling on these stupid fantasies like a fucking sissy.

She follows my command, sitting down on her heels with her chest pushed out and her hands tied at the back. Her green eyes find their way up to mine when I position myself in front of her, my cock throbbing with anticipation as I look down at her.

"Let's make this count, doll."