Safe word…

The term echoes between us as Zahir stares at me with his flashing dark eyes. For a few raw beats I wonder if I’ll have to explain—but then he’s across the room.

His hand whips out like a snake and fists in my hair. “Get off me!” I yell, scratching at his hand.

But with silent precision, he drags me across the room and only then does he let go of my hair…right before he throws me onto the bed.

I try to recover quickly, but he’s on top of me before I am even halfway turned around. The hand re-fists my hair and he pushes me down, cheek first, into the satin pillows, easily pinning me to the bed.

He’s so much bigger and heavier than me. I should give up. But I don’t. I fight with everything I’ve got, the line between reality and play blurring as I try to get up.

He patiently holds me down with just the one arm, and I sense he is watching my struggle with the interest of a predator deciding when to strike.

Eventually, I stop because I am panting too hard to keep fighting. But as soon as my body goes limp, I hear it. The zwvick of his metal zipper being pulled down.

The sound reverberates and then I feel a hard pressure at the back of my pussy. The monster…it should be familiar by now, but it’s not. Unsheathed, it is bigger…a lot bigger than I expected, not to mention hard and unyielding. Like Zahir.

He rest the fat head at my back entrance and silence envelops us, with nothing but the sound of me breathing hard. It takes me a few more pants to realize why he’s paused.

Cal-Mart.

The invitation to say the word, to end this suddenly physical fight and not take it any further, floats in the air above my subdued body.

I think about it for a whole second…then I buck, throwing off his arm. And that one opening is all I need. I twist onto my back, arms finally free to shove and claw my way out of his hold.

But I only get in one scratch across his chest before he brutally flips me back over and falls on top of me. Bringing his full weight down so hard onto my body, I can barely move, much less buck.

“You grew up without any control or boundaries, then your father put you on a show that encouraged you to say anything you wanted, do anything you wanted, as long as it made people gawk and laugh,” he growls, his breath hot on the back of my neck. “But you are mine now. It matters not how this came to pass, it is a fact. I am your control. I am your boundary. You will accept me…now.”

Then he starts to push in…

I cry out at the feel of him…the size of him. The pressure is unbelievable as he pushes his way inside me. Even though I’m wet, soaked with desire and fight sweat… he’s still hard to take. And his dick feels like the punctuation mark to his chant as he slowly enters me, inch by inch. “I am your control. I am your boundary.”

I am locked in place, unable to do anything but lie beneath him as he slow feeds me his dick, chanting all the while. And my body’s response to all this? Well, that’s the most surprising thing of all. Instead of freaking out, a feeling of warmth and safety comes over me, and it is like nothing I have ever known. He is my control. He is the boundary I never had. And then… And then…

I come underneath him, sensations overtaking me for what I’m sure would be a full body shudder if I could move.

Zahir exhales a long, heavy sigh and then his hips lift just enough to start a slow, dominating stroke. His deep, ruthless taking pushes my clit into the bed, rubbing it against the satin. And just as the first orgasm finishes, another begins.

“Z…” I gasp as stars burst behind my eyes.

The second orgasm hits me, but he doesn’t stop. In fact, his hand re-fists in my hair, refusing to release me from his devastating hold as he keeps drawing his enormous erection in and out. “I am your control. I am your boundary.”

Relentless. He is relentless. I cry out, coming a third time as his words echo in my head. I am your control. I am your boundary.

How did he know? How did he see past all my bluster to the fear cowering beneath it? My life has always been out of control. I wasn’t nurtured, just shuffled around the endless pop-up parties my parents threw, like a cute piece of modern art they often forgot they still owned but liked to show off when they remembered. But that was at my parent’s house in New Jersey.

I’m in Jahwar now. In Zahir’s house. And in this room, I have no choices. Zahir feeds me. Zahir trains me. Zahir fucks me and fucks me until, with a sudden surge of Arabic, he spills inside me, hot and sloppy.

I’m not the only one overly effected by my forced submission. His dick kicks inside me, streaming an impossible amount of cum. By the time he’s done…by the time he turns me over, I’m a filthy, naked mess, my brown skin glistening with his cum and my multiple releases.

His eyes darken at the sight of me. Raw desire…but then comes something that looks surprisingly like shame. “I tried to spare you this side of me,” he says quietly. “If you had been patient and let me fully prepare myself for this, I would have treated you better. Like Asir…”

Asir…that name seems so past tense. My crush as made up a story as Disney’s version of Aladdin.

There is nothing but Zahir in my reality. Him staring down at me with his long, thick dick glistening with my pussy juices and still semi-hard. I feel something dark rise in me and I kick at his thigh, striking him hard.

“Do not…” he warns.

My response is to kick him again.

Zahir grabs my ankle, and I notice his dick is no longer semi-hard, but fully erect. “Do n—” he starts to say, but I slam the bottom of my other foot into his other thigh before he can finish.

I’m sick of his polite tone. His royal reserve. His perfectly groomed everything. Manners, beard, and hair.

And besides that, I’m all out of words at this point. All I have left is fight.

But when I claw my hands to come at him again, he lets go of my ankles and vice grips my wrist in one deft wrestling move. Then he falls on top of me before I can use my legs to buck him off.

There’s no slow feed this time. He shoves into me, fucking me into the bed, caging me in with the raw power of his body. Soon I am coming again…and again, the world nothing more than my moans and the sound of his body slapping furiously into mine.

No, he’s not Asir.

Asir is a pleasant G-rated movie the whole family can enjoy. I can’t imagine exploding like this for Asir. Coming again and again like this for anyone but the sheikh ruthlessly driving into me.

The sound soon fades, and I lose myself in a constantly erupting volcano of pleasure. Somewhere in the distance I hear his animalistic grunts as he comes inside me a second time. But this time when my orgasm fades, instead of coming back down, I stay in the sky, floating away…floating away on a sea of pleasure.