It’s just not fair. The teasing, the touching, the power he holds over me. I can really only lie here and accept whatever he deems appropriate. I tug on my wrist yet again as the paddle makes contact. I know I’m securely attached to the bed and I don’t actually want to be free from the bonds keeping my wrists and ankles spread apart, but the fact that I can’t move more than a few inches in any direction makes the anticipation of the next sting all the more interesting. I’ve been squirming and fighting for what feels like hours, but I know it’s only been minutes. The dripping between my legs is uncontrollable under normal conditions, but excessive in the face of my current circ*mstances. He hits me again and I have to fight to not present my ass for the next one, eager for it. He won’t get it out of me that easily.
He grabs a burning handful of my ass, seemingly just to make it jiggle, and leans down to talk in my ear.
“How’re you doing? Need me to lighten up?”
I scoff and roll my eyes, putting on a big show, “As if. In fact, you might need some pointers. I can call someone if y-AH!”
A series of smacks with his bare hand cuts me off and my snide remark turns into an exclamation. I didn’t mean to but when he does, my back arches and I’m fully presented for my entirely undeserved punishment, whatever he determines that may be. At this presentation, his fingers dip lower than that crease he’s obsessed with between my ass and thigh, down to my dripping wet entrance, where he teases and strokes, playing with me like I’m prey. I try to control my breathing so he doesn’t fully catch me in the lie. I’m so wet at this point I don’t even notice the first finger he slides in me. I do, however, notice his teeth making contact with my ass cheek. It almost feels like he’s biting through my skin and I cry out, pulling on all my bonds simultaneously.
He chuckles and I feel more than see the smile on his face, “Careful, I might have to put something in there to keep you quiet”
I roll my eyes yet again, not that he can see it from this position.
A lighter smack lands on my side, “I saw that”
“Liar. Ridiculous and a liar, that’s what you are-“ yet again interrupted by his activities below my waist. This time a whimper falls from my lips as he slips more of his fingers into my c*nt.
“What was that?” He says, smugly.
“I hate yo-“ and just like that, my breathless protests are cut off by two of his fingers, covered in my wetness and shoved in my mouth. f*ck. It’s basically instinct for me to suck on those fingers, rolling my tongue around them to lick them perfectly clean, until I can’t taste myself on them anymore. I moan around them when the paddle makes another impact, having rejoined the party while I was distracted.
“f*ck.” He breathes out, as he removes his fingers from my mouth. I hear a clatter and some rustling from somewhere. I use the opportunity to test my bonds again, but I’m interrupted by a hand in my hair and a co*ck in my face.
I was raised to never talk with my mouth full, but Mrs Post isn’t here and I don’t think the sound that comes out of my throat as his co*ck enters it counts as talking. Maybe sobbing? Definitely gagging. The scream I release when he continues to assault my ass with the paddle makes me glad he’s muffled my voice. Not that I’ve ever cared about an audience, but I try to be respectful.
However, respect is the furthest thing from my mind when he releases my wrists from the restraints. With my new, if limited, freedom I pop up onto my elbows for maximum leverage as I move my head up and down his co*ck. I glance up at him, he’s fully distracted by my ministrations. I think I can slide one hand down to my cl*t for just a second, just a moment, before my face is almost violently pulled away and I’m yanked up onto my knees by my hair.
“Did I say you could f*cking touch yourself?” He growls in my face.
“f*ck, Jesus, sorry, okay?” I put my hands up in some kind of surrender, but my tone and the smirk on my face prove he’s only kind of intimidating me.
He takes it at face value, or at least pretends to, and takes my wrists so he can hold them in one hand behind my back. The other hand slides from my neck, down my chest, caressing my breasts, pinching my nipples, teasing my stomach and waist, before finally swirling a single finger around my cl*t in a way that makes me fold. I had squirmed just enough to almost free one of my wrists from his grip when his teasing causes me to collapse face first into a pillow. He easily readjusts, moving his hand to torture me from behind. He doesn’t switch technique: agonizingly slow and simple motions around my swollen, erect cl*t. I bite my lips to keep myself from begging, but when he moves his hand away, I let a “n-nooo pleaseee” escape despite my best efforts.
I can hear it in his voice when he says “hmm? What was that? Please what…?” I don’t want to admit my desire and beg him to f*ck me into next week. It feels like losing. But the lightest smack to my cl*t is all it takes for me to accept defeat.
“Please Sir please f*ck me I- I can’t. Please please please Sir I need it” it sounds pathetic to me, but it must be what he was looking for, because his co*ck is fully sheathed in my c*nt the second the words leave my mouth. It’s almost like he knew I’d do it.
My wrists behind my back prove to be useful as a handle. He pulls me back onto his co*ck every time he thrusts, making me feel impossibly full. I moan loudly. He leans over my back, biting my ear as he says, “What do you say? I gave you what you wanted, now say thank you”
I whimper at the dark tone and the request. I do not comply, because of course I don’t. I know there will be consequences but isn’t that the point? How can I be expected to relinquish any more power? My legs are still bound, held even more securely by his body between them. My wrists held tightly behind me. My face pressed deeply into a pillow. I’ve already begged. I can’t give up any more.
He thrusts inside me again and a deep moan is pulled from me. That gives him more to say.
“No, actually, I don’t want to hear anything out of you unless it’s ‘Thank you for f*cking me, Sir’”
There it is. Well, I can be quiet. I can be so quiet. I hold my breath to keep my vocal cords out of the picture. He continues to f*ck me and I can only exist without oxygen for so long under those conditions. When he scratches lines into the tender skin of my ass and thighs, the need to breathe becomes too great. I try to do it through my nose and gasp as quietly as I can in between. Occasionally, on a particularly rough thrust or after he encourages me to thank him again, the start of a moan breaks through. He manages to get a few more good smacks in between thrusts, trying to startle a response out of me, and I start to think maybe failure is the point. When he bites the side of my neck, I give up everything.
“f*ck Thank you, thank you Sir for f*cking me, you f*ck me so good Sir please Sir don’t ever stop f*cking me Sir”
With the final sacrifice, it’s like something new entirely takes over my body. I’m aware of what’s happening and could take control again, but I genuinely don’t want to. I’m rolling my hips back against him in time I didn’t know I could keep, sounds and phrases I’ve never heard before fall from my lips, tears are falling from my eyes with every connection of his hips against my sore, beaten ass, and I love every single second of it. I feel whole and full and complete with him inside me and around me and talking me through it.
“Oh you’re such a good boy, that’s right, take my co*ck. f*ck, it’s like you’re made for it, my good boy made just for me to f*ck and play with. Good job, good boy, cum for me now, be a good boy and cum on my co*ck”
What an asshole. God I hate him so much. Of course I do as I’m told this time, I don’t have another option. I cum. Hard. And screaming. And crying. Every muscle I have tenses as hard as it can and relaxes completely as I come down. I find myself floating on the wave of endorphins, every part of my body completely pliant, only jolting with the occasional aftershocks. All the while he’s f*cking me with abandon. When he does stop, he slaps my ass again, causing me to cry out again and squeeze around him without meaning to.
“God I love it when you do that” he breathes out. He frees my legs and lays us on our sides, with his co*ck still buried in me. Some jostling and teasing leads to more of his favorite reaction. I’m still floating, chest heaving, the occasional eyelid flutter revealing how out of it I am. Truly some of our best work, if I do say so myself. Something I’ll be thinking about for a while.
***
“You’re joking. Please tell me you’re joking.”
“Nope, I am 100% serious, seven years ago someone stole my viral tweet and it became a meme. Even Denny’s did it” He says before taking a sip of his drink, some deeply masculine co*cktail in a glass that his fingers wrap sensually around. I can’t help but imagine them wrapping around other things. Thighs, hips, wrists, a neck. He sucks through his teeth a bit as the alcohol burns his throat. There’s amusem*nt in his eyes that betray the lie, but he looks so beautiful like that that I almost decide to let him get away with it, just this once.
“You’re such a liar. You’re lucky I like you so much” I swirl the liquid in my own glass, wondering if I’ll have to drain it in one long pull to let him know that I’m ready to get out of this bar. I could leave the dregs like a message in tea leaves.
“Yeah? How much?” I’m pulled from my daiquiri divinations by the chill of his glass against my thigh as he says this, the edge of my skirt wicking some condensation off of it. He slides it forward, pushing the fabric up, exposing more of my skin to his heavy gaze. It’s all a distraction for the way his rough fingers gently brush against my inner thigh and begin to press up. My heart skips when I make the connection. I take a long sip of my drink, taking the opportunity to scan the room. The bartender is at the other end of the bar, chatting animatedly with some regulars: an older couple who have been nursing the same martinis for an hour. Up near the front window, a small group of twenty-somethings bicker about who should get what, when. It seems they haven’t quite figured out the art of the bar tab or the practice of buying rounds for the group. For the last twenty minutes, there’s been a lone guy in the corner booth behind me drinking hazy beer and reading (or at least pretending to read) some thick paperback with an incredible Title of Words that I’m sure will be a major motion picture in the next three years.
My glass is empty before his hand reaches inappropriately far up my thigh. Honestly I would be more upset that he stopped if he wasn’t already using that hand to wave down the bartender for our tab. I stand to press my body against his shoulder and gently run my nails through the hair at the base of his head. I do a quick nip at his ear as he signs off on the check. He presses a kiss to my forehead as he stands, already pulling his jacket around me. I’ve long since given up trying to outright refuse him this, but that doesn't stop me from rolling my eyes and muttering “Ridiculous” as I slide my hands through the oversized sleeves.
He keeps his hand pressed to the small of my back, not guiding or possessive, merely a comforting pressure as we navigate out of the bar and down the street. The bar was chosen for its proximity, so it takes almost no time at all to get back to his place. It would definitely take less time if we didn’t keep stopping to make out against various walls, giggling and smiling into each other's mouths. It’s been too long since we’ve had this; the simple enjoyment of being together, just the two of us in the same space.
He moves to wrap his arm around my waist and pull my back against his chest as he unlocks the door. As we step through, I slip off the jacket. As soon as my arms are free, he spins me around and presses my back against the door. It startles a laugh out of me. God, I’ve missed this. I say as much as I wrap my arms around his shoulders.
“You could stay,” he whispers and presses our foreheads together. My heart aches, because I know he doesn’t mean for the night. He knows it’s an unreasonable request, an impossible thing to promise. A sad, gentle smile crosses my face.
“Maybe next time” I reply, and bump our noses until our lips brush in a gentle peck. His hands slide down my sides until he’s grabbing me by the thighs and lifting me to wrap my legs around him. As his hands slide back up my thighs and under my dress to cup my ass, he only makes contact with my skin and moans at the realization.
“You’re telling me there was nothing stopping me from sliding my fingers into you earlier? You’ve been sitting next to me all night, letting me tease you and tempt you, and the whole time you were sitting there in nothing but that slu*tty little dress waiting for me to take advantage of you? What a naughty boy” he smirks in a way that makes my heart jump for a new reason.
I scoff at the implication I’m anything other than the picture of innocence. “How dare you, sir! I’m offended. I should leave immediately.” I say, though I make no move to do so.
Something dark crosses his eyes at my words. “Hmmm… Sir… you know me so well. You can keep that up” his voice rumbles deep in his chest and I can feel it against my own. He lowers his head to kiss and bite at my neck, which makes me gasp.
“Seriously? Is that how tonight’s going to go? What’ll you do if I ca-“ I don’t get to finish as he slings me up so I’m over his shoulder, smacking my ass as my skirt flips up.
“I don’t think I like where that was going, so let’s take care of that attitude” he says as he strides toward his bedroom. I roll my eyes, though I know he can’t see.
“Saw that” he tosses over his shoulder like he just did me with another quick smack. I playfully pound my fists on his back, grateful he can’t see my giddy smile.
He throws me on his bed in a way that leaves my dress gathered almost completely around my chest. I’m about to slide up into a sitting position that would both right the fabric and get me closer to his level, when his hands run up my body, groping at my breasts, keeping all of me exposed to his gaze and under his thumb.
“This is truly indecent, doll, let’s just get it off you” the dress is forced up and over my head and his mouth descends on me. He kisses and licks and bites across and down my body, not giving me a single opportunity to escape this attack. My thighs are spread and pressed up against my chest and he begins to suck and bite a mark into one of them where my leg meets my ass. I’m truly breathless already and I cry out at each press of his teeth. He follows his mark with a single teasing lick up my c*nt. He pulls back, releasing me so he can take in the view of my truly naked body.
“Now, are you going to behave, or do I have to restrain you?” He raises a brow at me as if that’ll make me want to agree to the implied demand of his question.
I bite my lips to hold back another laugh, but the amusem*nt obviously shows on my face as an answering smirk crosses his. He’s on me before I can even try to escape, pinning me down with my hands above my head. I wiggle and squirm to release my hands but he holds me through it, chuckling to himself at my efforts.
When I’m as exhausted as I want to be this juncture, knowing I’ll have to pace myself to get everything I want out of him, I let him think I’ve collapsed, giving in to his request for good behavior. I plan to make a break for it when he releases me, but he sees through it. Damn this man and how well he knows me. Instead of letting me go, he secures my wrists in one hand and flips me onto my stomach with the other.
Time for another round of wiggling. I think I feel my skin slipping through his grip when his hand makes an impressive smack against my ass. Another wordless command to behave. Or maybe he does use his words, but I’m too focused on earning my freedom to pay attention. Through an impressive manipulation of my body he manages to get one wrist, then the other secured in the restraints on his bed. Once my arms are secured he needs next to no effort to restrain my legs, since I’ve lost so much leverage.
“I hate you” I mumble into the mattress out of frustration, tugging at the bonds. This is completely unnecessary. And exactly what I was hoping for. I mean. He could rough me up a bit more, but he’s being overly sentimental. Honestly the earlier sentimentality is what has me fighting so hard, giggling as I struggle. I’ve been desperately trying to control the tone, to get away from the ache in my chest that I definitely don’t want to be examining too closely. He won’t let me though, as he kneels next to me, gently brushing my hair out of my face and stroking my cheek, a soft smile on his face.
“I don’t think you mean that, baby boy.” He stands and leaves my field of vision. He keeps the hand that was on my face touching my body the whole time, never letting me forget that he’s there. There’s the sound of him rifling through The Drawer one handed, and goosebumps breakout across my skin from anticipation. When the sound stops, my heart picks up. He punctuates his next statements with gentle but still stinging impacts from his favorite paddle. “I think you’re exactly where you want to be” smack “and I think I’m the one that put you there” smack “and I think you love that I can do this to you.” Smack
I take a series of deep breaths to try and control my voice. I’m sure he’ll know how affected I am regardless. He knows me too well.
“You are such an asshole”
He answers me with another, harder smack. “Am I?” Smack “I’m just giving you what you deserve,” smack “what you so deeply desire.” Smack “Why else would you dress so naughty and act out so much?” Smack “Let’s see how long that attitude lasts” smack. smack. smack.
He starts teasing me with his other hand: wrapping it around my throat, grabbing a fistful of hair, stroking between my legs to monitor how wet I’m getting. God it’s incredible how he plays me like an instrument, reading all my small noises and tiny reactions like the sexiest sheet music. Doesn’t make it any more fair.
It’s just not fair…
***
“Hey hey, come back to me, baby.” he kisses my cheek as he whispers to me. I don’t know if I dozed off, or was more out of it than I thought. He’s sitting on the side of the bed in front of me now, holding a clear glass that’s more ice than water, exactly how I prefer it. I slowly prop myself up on my side, taking the glass and sipping at it. Words still feel far away but he knows what I want next. He arranges himself against the headboard and takes the glass from me so I can rest on his chest, pressing our skin together until I lose track of where I end and he begins. He talks to me while holding me and I start to understand sweet nothings, hmm-ing and mmm-ing at appropriate moments to the gentle touches that accompany his words.
I come to with a sharp inhale and sit straight up suddenly. Blinking a few times, it’s always like waking from a dream, returning to reality. My heart aches again as I fully return to my body, probably the only downside of my situation.
“Welcome back” he smirks at me, smug, per usual. “Have a good time?”
I flip him off, obviously having had an amazing time, and say “Maybe. Did you?” My voice is still thick and I have to clear my throat while I reach over him to get my water again. When I look back at him over the top of the glass, he has this ridiculous, sunshiny smile on his face.
“The best.” He kisses my cheek again before bouncing off the bed, making me slosh on myself in the middle of my drink. My pout can only last a second however as he returns with one of his stupidly soft t-shirts and a pair of my own underwear, presenting them to me and rubbing his thumb between my brows until the lines there disappear. Once he’s satisfied with the results, he gives me a quick kiss. I can’t help but make a happy noise in response.
We take care of business and return to bed in an entirely different mindset. My heart does that thing again at the ease of it all. We lay facing each other, talking low and slow in the late hour. He looks at me like I’m special and I tell him to stop. He says he’s not doing anything. We go on like that until we’re giggling like middle schoolers at a sleepover. Eventually I can’t keep my eyes open and I fell asleep the way I fell in love:
Hard and Suddenly
