5 comments/ 22991 views/ 1 favorites Fear By: Bethyboo As I wait in the airport for the announcement to board my plane...I am entranced with the man who has captivated me these many months. If only he were closer, he appears to be everything I am looking for in a partner. So in tune we have been these long months that I feel I have known him forever. It's not just the cyber sex we share...it is everything. He knows that I have a slight fear of flying...an unease that tears at the belly, making it clench....so he is entertaining me with tales of his cats...his job....his cock as it twitches in front of him. I hear the boarding call and hastily bid him goodbye assuring him that I will log on as soon as I get to my hotel room...the convention doesn't start until the morning so I will have lots of time to play on-line, I have even packed a new scrap of lingerie or two to surprise him on web-cam with. I have been dreading this convention for months...so boring...all technical stuff...that's why I have IT people so that I don't have to know these things...but the powers that be decided I needed to get away. And here I am, on an airplane...woo hoo...cant even access the internet or text from way up here. Stirring in my seat, I realize that I have slept the whole way and that we are starting our approach to the airport. Taking a deep breath, my stomach in knots, I grip the arms of the seat until my fingers are aching, which is good...it focuses my mind elsewhere. Ground under us, I let out the breath that I didn't know I was holding and look around me...I am always amazed at how relaxed all the other passengers are. Gathering my things, logging onto my IM as soon as the pilot gives us the ok...I frown...where is he...I send an offline message...no reply. Standing and getting my luggage from the overhead compartment, I line up to disembark the plane. The airport is busy, but since I had no checked luggage I move right to the exit and scan the crowd for a card with my name. I approach the driver, hand over my luggage and am whisked to my hotel. Checking in I hurry to my room, tossing my things on the floor as I reach for my laptop eager to be in touch with my cyber lover. A frown creases my brow, only an offline, "Trusting your flight was uneventful and that you are tucked into your hotel room...had a few errands to run...be with you in an hour or so...just leave your cam on for me...and I will buzz you when I get back...kisses lover" Yawning I step into the bathroom, turn on the hot water and step into a steamy shower, letting the jet spray cascade over my back, turning to let it beat at my nipples, I run soapy hands all over my body, probing into each nook and cranny...smiling as I hum a tune. A solo dance in the shower as I imagine my lover here with me...making a mental note to tell him how close I felt to him as I caressed my body. Grabbing a big fluffy white hotel towel I wrap myself in it and step out of the shower. Standing in front of the mirror waiting for the fog to evaporate so that I can see myself, I hear my computer come alive with the special sound that tells me my cyber friend is here. Smiling, I turn from the bathroom, dripping and approach my laptop. There he is, his smiling face watching me as I approach. I let my hips sway, the towel gapping to allow him a brief glimpse of flesh with every step. Watching the chat box I read...how was your flight...answering, I slept the whole way lol....he nods as a smile brightens his eyes. be right back, pops up...so I return to the bathroom...the mirror finally clear...and drop my towel to the floor..running my palms over my swollen nipples...still red from the hot shower...I hear a knock at my door. Reaching for the towel I rush to the door...and yell "hello" Room Service rings back to me. "I didn't order anything." I yell back..."Convention Welcome Basket" the man answers back. "Oh, OK, just leave it on the desk please." I unlock the door and run to the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. Waiting til I hear the door close once again, I open the door and approach the bed...mind focused on the computer... My scream of fear cut off by the hand clamped over my mouth, my hands yanked cruelly behind my back as a voice whispers, "don't make a sound not even a whimper." My heart pounding, holding my breath, I cast my eyes around the room looking for a weapon. Hoping that my cyber lover will come back and see what is going on ...will summon help for me before it is too late. A blindfold is tied tightly around my eyes, and my hands are secured in front of me...a cold metal object is run down the cleavage of my breasts as I feel my towel drop to the floor. A husky voice demands me to stand still... not moving...as he places the laptop on the desk. "If you are good then when I am done I will leave." I hear typing on the keyboard..."I have just left your cyber watcher a message...it instructs him to stay in view and watch the show...if he attempts to call anyone or I see his hands moving...I will hurt you." My heart so loud it hurts my ears...not only must I endure this...but he must watch , helpless...tears soak the blindfold as I quiver....my naked breasts heaving with silent sobs. I stumble backwards...strong hands grab me...and pull me forward...laying me on the bed. My arms are tugged upwards and tied to the headboard...concentrating on breathing...I turn my head from side to side trying to loosen the blindfold. "There he is...he is reading the note...and looks horrified...but he is not moving...I think he sees the knife in my hand...ok...now to show him the weapon that is in my pants..." I hear a rustle of clothing...the jangle of a belt...a zipper being lowered...and the sag of the bed as the monster sits down...too close to me...can smell him...my nose wrinkling...wanting it to be an offensive odor...but quite the opposite...my traitorous body reacting to the mere scent of this man. Tender hands push my legs back. I feel them being tied...and the rope passing behind my neck...pulling my legs up and back...exposing my sex and my ass. I shudder as my shaved pussy gives up its juices to this fiend. A soft touch, runs up and down my spread and quivering thighs...moaning softly, unable to stop the sound. Thinking of my cyber lover...he must see the wet between my legs, see my body quivering with desire, not recoiling in horror. He must be appalled at the behavior of my wanton body. My heart pounding so hard...its beat like a drum in my ear. Can hear the breathing of my intruder...my senses attuned to his every move. Pulling at my arms, tossing my head side to side... I can feel the bed sagging, fingers playing along my thighs...tears spilling over my cheeks. Hot breath on my lips as a pair of soft lips brush lightly over mine...a gasp escapes...but they are gone before I can even attempt to pull away. The bed moves as his body lifts...breathing out and taking a sweet gulp of cool air, listening...waiting ... torturous long moments. Not even realizing that I am holding my breath...until I feel the bed sagging...and I let out a long panicked moan. The feel of soft hands, caressing, almost lovingly, my thighs parting under the skillful plying of strong fingers. My mind in turmoil...this invasion of my body...my very senses...willing my lungs to scream out in denial. All that issues from my lips is a soft shushing sound, almost of acceptance. Oh, what must my cyber lover be thinking of my behavior? Will he never speak to me again? Will I never hear his soft sighs..words of encouragement as he brings me to orgasm from afar? Twisting in the bonds that hold my hands firmly above my head, grunting as I pull and strain. Finally able to deny this would be rapist...my lips form the words...Stop, let me go!, but they never verbalize, as in that instant his lips descend without warning and seize my swollen labia, pulling and tugging, sucking them into his hot, wet mouth. My hips lifting of their own accord to meet his tormenting mouth. Unable to stop my greedy and hungry body, my juices flow, spewing from my tight dark hole, soaking his face, bathing this strangers tongue in my golden nectar. Pumping to his mouth, arms taut, fingers curled into fists, the nails biting into my palms, legs needing to extend..my head lifts up and I stare into the darkness of the blindfold...excitement building deep within me...as I scream, not a denial but for more. OMG....deep shame turns my flesh to crimson, tears soaking the blindfold, sobs wracking my body. My anguish seems to spur him on, fingers parting my nether lips, tongue darting from my stiff clit to my puckered and winking back door. Fast and hard his tongue moves on my slick skin...bringing my clit to life...it bucks and leaps with every stroke of this mans tongue. A finger pressed against my tightly clenched sphincter, steady pressure, not entering but on the verge. Tongue teasing my clit, it pulls free of its hood...standing alone, exposed and vulnerable, the bauble that pierces my hood scraping my button as his tongue flicks, probes and brings me to the brink of orgasm...my breathing faster, ragged...mind reeling in shock as the pleasure registers and I shudder, ready to explode. Sensing a change, I feel the bed moving again, he steps away from me as I frown, unbelieving that he would stop. I listen as the flick of a blade opening assaults my ears. Shaking my head in denial...a whispered ," please don't hurt me" is met with a groan of anguish from my attacker. Pausing even in my breathing, I listen. His heavy breathing is close to my face as he leans over me, and then...ahhhhhhhhh, my legs are loose. The knife was used to cut the rope that held them spread and back on my chest. I lower my legs, flexing the taut muscles...sighing..."thank you." My arms are released but still bound together at the wrists. Letting them go slack, I lay very still wondering if this is over. He moves back onto the bed...and climbs on top of me...I can feel his hard cock nestling between my pussy lips, butting up against my throbbing clit. He pulls my arms around his neck, positions his cock at my entrance and kisses me...hard, bruising, hot...his tongue forcing itself past my lips, making itself at home in my mouth, searching for my tongue...it dances along the edges as he steals my breath. Shocked at the intensity of this kiss, my heart beats a staccato rhythm, hips grinding at his cock. My clit begging for the head to stroke it, my lips gaping wide to reveal my inner passage, where my true treasures await. Arching into his kiss, my breasts scraping his chest, his hand moves to my face, stroking my cheek...and then...his cock pierces through...legs wrapping around and ankles locking at his back...drawing the invading cock deeper harder and faster. Hands stroking my face as the driving shaft fills me, stretches me, makes me scream into his mouth...body reacting on instinct, quivering and shuddering, not able to take anymore, my cunt pours its cum juices onto this strange cock, sharing my most intimate of fluids to this rapist.....screaming, muffled by his mouth, he sucks the air from my lungs. As the orgasm reaches its apex and finally starts to subside...my arms and legs wrapped around the man who is pleasuring my body against my will...my eyes open, to see colours and light. The blindfold is gone...how long I am not sure , but I am staring into the most intense eyes I have ever seen... the most wonderful smile...a face so handsome that in my shock I whisper his name. Returning your smile, as my body quivers, last vestiges of orgasm traversing along fired up nerve endings. Using my tied arms to pull your head down, your lips to mine...the kiss so passionate and welcome that I cum again, just remembering what you have done to me. Gasping as I explore the mouth that seems so familiar all of a sudden, delightfully wriggling under this body that I have seen so many times on cam that its every nuance is etched into my brain. Laughing out loud, the terror and embarrassment breaking the surface, bubbling up in a joyful rolling giggle. My cyber lover, here in the flesh, fulfilling my most deepest darkest fantasy.... Whispering, "Make love to me now....please." Watching your eyes as you untie my hands, I caress your soft cheeks, trace the hard line of your jaw, feel your muscles rippling as I run trembling fingers over your chest. Sighing softly...eyes sparkling with lust for you...cant get enough of you....realizing that we have a whole weekend to explore our every fantasy. Glancing over at the laptop and seeing a blank screen...what a way to meet. I ask you how are you ever going to top this fantasy. With smiling eyes, I watch as your lips descend to trace a trail of butterfly kisses from breast to breast... We'll think of something you whisper back. To Be Continued... Fear Her face, the terror, I remember it well. I don't know the name of the movie, I was probably only 10 years old but I thought about it for weeks. The image of her anguish wouldn't leave me alone, not for a moment. I didn't like it, it didn't make me happy, but it haunted me, following me around like a shadow that I couldn't shake. What was worse though was that I knew that really, I didn't want to shake it at all. I'd been exploring the nature of power exchange for years when I met her, on a BDSM dating site one boring afternoon. I was experienced by then and I had developed a thorough understanding of the female submissive mind as well as coming to terms with my own and it's prowling, relentless demons. There was then and still is now, always a hunger though. Always a longing... For more... For much more. Her initial email simply read, "are you interested in rape?" That's always a good way to get my attention I thought and responded immediately, "yes, I love rape games." "No, I meant rape. It's ok, I'll keep looking." Shit, now she really had my attention. I better find out where she was going with this but I knew it wasn't going to be anywhere good. It struck me immediately that I wasn't going to be able to resist being lured into this if she was genuine; The shadow was back, but she's not genuine right? She's not for real surely? We talked for a while and she sent me pictures. I was surprised to see and elegant but demure girl in her late 20s with a pretty face and a petite frame. Her clothes revealed her to be conservative by nature and she filled me in on her mundane existence in a ordinary office job. I played along, it was a fun game but I decided that it was just another internet fucktard playing late night funnies on stupid Australians. I felt like my suspicions were confirmed when I offered to supply some pics of myself to which she responded "No, I don't want to know what you look like." The conversations soon got dark. She let me into the dreadful yearnings that she'd felt since childhood. No history of abuse or mistreatment and she seemed genuinely upset about that. Her thoughts were truly horrific even for me, "there are some fucking sick internet geeks around" I thought to myself as I pretended to believe this wasn't some sick cyber fantasy, "What is it that you crave the most?" I asked. "Fear" she replied. "I need fear. Don't do this if you can't do it properly," Suddenly I was back in my 10 year old head, plagued by thoughts of this girl's terror. Her face contorted, her arms flailing and me drilling the fear straight through her skull and into her cerebellum. This wasn't a game she was talking about so it captivated me completely. The shadow was there always, never leaving my side, it was always on my mind but hey, at least it was just a wind up. "Fuck, it's not a wind up." She sends me an invitation on the Find-My-Friends app. I can see where she is, watch her walk down the street. I can use Google street view to look straight at the building she's in. I can follow her every move and now, it's me that's afraid. I'm afraid of this situation, of my self and the grim realisation that I probably won't be able to stop myself going through with this, even if I want to. I wait for her one day as she passes a coffee shop. I needed to get a look at her. I'd not heard a thing from her since she sent me the invite and there was still a chance I'd been geo-stalking some fat man with pie spilt down his shirt. I wasn't, she was actually way prettier than her pictures had led me to believe but in the brief moment as she passed me by I was sure I could see sadness in her. I followed her for a while as she walked home from work and watched her interact with people. I was right, she was sad, something was missing. I wasn't the solution and I knew it. I spent hours contemplating fear and what role it plays in my life. It was a constant, I knew that. Girls never feel completely comfortable because hell, they shouldn't. I go to great lengths to make them feel safe and protected whilst hiding the monster in plain sight, right there in front of their faces. But this girl didn't want to give me that opportunity, that satisfaction, the comfort blanket I had grown used to wearing. She wanted to meet only the monster and no one else. I stalked her again a couple of times. I knew her routine now and she stuck to it like clockwork. No more communication had been sent and it had been over six weeks now since the invite. She could have turned it off, she could hide if she wanted to. What was she thinking? What the hell was I thinking? I was oscillating wildly between the thrill of this and how sick it all made me feel hourly. I needed to stop so I decided it was over, done, forget about it. Who was I kidding? The shadow was all over me and I needed to taste her fear. I had no choice so I made my plans. A short winters evening brought on the dusk as I waited. My plans had taken for ever to put in place and it had been 9 weeks since the invite. The service still ran and I watched her wander out of her office ten minutes later than normal. I was jittery, my hands shaking and my mind unable to focus. I'd tried to control all the variables but knew that it was an impossible task and that made me nervous. She approached, another ten minutes later than normal and the waiting had made me angry. It was gonna happen now and I was on the brink of pulling out. She passed me, "don't do it" I told myself, but I didn't hear it. I turned, two steps and I was behind her, she heard me, turned, I had hold of her hair. "Don't mess around your prick, get her off this street" I was screaming to myself, Crunch, flashes in my eyes and pain through my nose. She'd hit me, square in the face and I couldn't see. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," I didn't let go, just kept dragging her, "more aggression asshole," I ordered, as I threw her around the corner of the grim disused alleyway, into the bare brick wall, safe from prying eyes. She turned, looked at me and there it was, pure unadulterated, de-sanitized, morbidly tangible fear. Bang, she hit me again, this time in the side of the head. I know how to fight as that point I had had nine MMA bouts and had handled men much bigger than myself but hitting a girl is wrong, we all know that. Her arms flailed at me, whack, again in the eye and rage boiled within me. I wasn't angry at her, I was angry at myself. I was fucking this up for both of us. I hit her back twice and she screamed. The noise from the road drowning it out as planned. It felt like it happened in slow motion. Once across the side of her face and once in the ribs. She slid down the wall holding her face and crouching in a ball. Adrenaline surged through me as I paused and looked down on her, my hand raised threatening another blow. She covered her face but fear was radiating off her in waves. It ran through me and filled the alleyway like a fog. I could smell, taste and even feel it. I had manhandled girls before, never like this. I dragged her over a bin and tore at her clothes. She continued to fight, scratching and wailing. Taking hold of the back of her head I slammed it into he metal as I forced a group of fingers inside of her. "No! Fuck No," She screamed as I drove my cock into her, hard, fast, relentless. She wouldn't stop trying to break free, I had hold of her right wrist and was twisting it up her back, it hurts like hell, It's been done to me many times but the pain wasn't sedating her. "Stop fighting you fucking bitch or I'll break it" I growled in her ear, She ignored me, forcing herself up with her other arm. Slam, her head hit the metal again, blood poured from her nose and she went limp. I looked down into her eyes. They were wide open and staring blankly at the wall, she didn't blink but tears streamed down her face. I grabbed both shoulders and fucked her as hard as I could. I forgot all about the chance of being caught, the sickening feeling brought on by hurting another human being, the conflict I suffered between protecting and terrorising girls. The fear in that alleyway was palpable like a drug and it drove me into her without remorse. I turn to look at her as I walked away. She was slowly curling up on the floor, her arms hugging her knees. She didn't watch me leave. After 20 minutes I went back but she was gone. I went to the nearest hospital and gave her description but they hadn't seen her. I check the app and she'd turned it off. Dread is all I felt. Nothing but dread. I called her and wrote to her but nothing. I could go to her work or her home but shit, she wouldn't want that right? Two weeks past and I struggled to consolidate my thoughts on what had happened. It wasn't the fear or the violence, the monster loved it and dined on the memories nightly before bed. It was the fact that I didn't know if she was ok, if that's what she really wanted or if she was even sadder now than she was before. Then one day another invitation arrived accompanied by a text that simply read, "Again?" The end Fear Fear comes in many levels and forms, but there is one uniquely terrifying format it takes; the fear of what is within one's self. It's a thinking being's fear, some might say; a fear borne of being self-aware to a detrimental degree. Once you know what you're capable of, there's no way of unknowing that little bit of information And at that moment, if you discover you're able to do something darker than you had prior thought yourself possible of even processing let alone acting upon, you're left in quite a conundrum - a conundrum which can be summed up in a single, simple sentence: What the hell is wrong with me? I found myself here with Babydoll. Sometimes I'd find myself gazing upon her rich caramel skin and her beautiful lips and feeling like some sort of monster. She was, and is, my dream girl personified, everything I'd ever wanted in a woman. She's feminine beauty incarnate and a friend who makes me laugh when nothing else could bring me a smile. Angels look upon her eyes and weep at the glory of it all. And still, to have the sadistic desires I do when it comes to her made me wonder if there really were a few loose screws in my mental machinations. How the hell do you look at anything, let alone a woman, that perfect and smart and lovely and think "god, I just wanna fuck it all up"? Fortunately for me, we're of a similar wavelength. She asked me once if her desires when it came to sadism and masochism made her some sort of irregularity, a freak of nature, and seemed sincerely distraught by it. I was stunned she'd even ask, and for a moment really couldn't respond. But when I could we'd talked about how society in general could make one feel so outside the norm that it was hard not to internalize feelings of how what we liked must be wrong, and how we'd both felt the same way every so often. That put my mind deeply at ease, because if even this glorious manifestation of power and radiance could feel insecure about her desires, I was okay with a bit of it on my own part. It also made me realize something rather important; I was being unfair to her. I had let fear make me feel so insecure about myself I hadn't been completely honest with her. I had given her portions, pieces of me. But she deserved better than that. She deserved the true me, even the parts of me I wasn't always so beamingly proud of. She deserved the full package deal... she deserved the real me. And she deserved to know that. I sat her down and told her as much, and she actually laughed a bit. "That's a relief..." she said, before abruptly hopping into my lap and throwing her arms around me. "I was worried for a minute there. I was here thinking there was something wrong with me, and you'd only pretended to like what I liked..." I shook my head, sighing softly. "I just wasn't sure how far I was willing to take this..." I admitted, sighing into her neck. "You're just so damned perfect, is the problem. I didn't want to risk ruining it by showing you what I really am. Believe it or not, I was worried I might scare you away, or ruin what we have. So, I've been holding back." I felt one of those nimble, elegantly-crafted hands caress my cheek... then grab a fistful of my hair and pull me up to lock eyes with her. I saw a glimmer of anger in her face, but mostly a stern, almost maternal look. It was that "Her Highness" look - regal, powerful, and capable of wilting stronger men than me in seconds. "Who the hell gave you the right to do that, hmm?" she asked. I simply looked on, confused and focused on trying to keep my heart in my chest, as she continued. "Darling, men and women throw themselves at my feet daily. They beg for my affection, my attention, and offer to do horrible things in order to get it. You know that already, don't you?" I nodded. "And yet, even with my status as a goddess to them... I chose to give myself over to you." She sighed and took a deep breath, and her face softened. "I decided I was going to be yours, didn't I? Didn't I call to you, collapse into your embrace, and melt into your hands?" She took my right hand and kissed the back of it, for emphasis. "For me to be this mortal and vulnerable with you... it's not something I'd do if I didn't want the entire package. Good, bad, ugly, I don't care - so long as it's yours, I want it. All of it." The hand that had been gripping my hair tightly began to caress it, lightly tangling itself in the locs as she smiled softly at me. "And if you do give all of that to me... I'll give you all of me in return. And isn't that just what you want..?" she trailed, of, then leaned into my ear and whispered this final word: "Daddy?" I visibly shuddered as a chill shot through me like winter's wind. I felt stripped to the bone, laid bare before those beautiful dark eyes, and the wellspring of emotions I felt made it almost impossible to focus on anything. I leaned against her again and breathed in, inhaling the scent of her and letting it calm me. My eyes closed and I felt the singular focus I needed returning as the rush of thoughts reached a manageable flow. My lips latched against her neck, then made their way to her ear. "You 'bout to fuck around and get just what you asked for, baby girl..." I growled into her ear. She giggled and ran one hand up and down my chest, nails digging through my shirt and into the skin. "I sincerely hope so, Daddy~" We spent at least 30 minutes after that talking about fetishes and kinks, setting up safe-words, and exchanging blushing glances and nervous laughter. I felt a strange relief, a release of excess pressure almost, from the honesty... even as I felt my mind reeling in fear that I'd go one tic too far into my kink pantheon and send her scurrying off. But she stayed, resting her head against my chest and then on my lap, countering each of mine with one of her own and then shyly looking off, sometimes muttering sheepishly with the most adorable nervousness. "We... are fucked up," I said after a while, words accented by the type of laughter that follows realizing that you spent days worrying about something that was never a big deal. "Yes we are!" she affirmed, raising her hand in solidarity. "But we're fucked up together," I added, leaning over and kissing her before continuing to speak. "I prefer that, in all honesty. Better to be out of my mind with you than sane with anyone else." "You'll make me blush, Sir," she said with a coy smile, returning the kiss with one of her own. "I agree though. Shared weirdness like this feels pretty good." We were exhausted, emotionally speaking, so we passed the rest of the night with movies, popcorn, and a bit of booze - wine for her, beer for me. Surely enough though, by the time she was done with her first glass and I was halfway to the bottom of my second bottle, our arms began intertwining like ivy along latticework. The screen went on making noise and lights, mostly ignored, and we couldn't keep our lips or fingers off each other for very long at all. "I want to make love to you tonight... and rip you apart tomorrow," I admitted with one hand up her shirt and the other rubbing her outer left thigh. "Is that weird?" She paused as if contemplating my words, then nodded before running her tongue across my neck slowly. "Doesn't mean I think you shouldn't..." she chimed in after a while. My hand slipped off her thigh and rested on the waistline of her jeans, patting her slightly-exposed stomach as I began to manhandle to soft flesh under her bra. "So... you'll be my lover tonight..." I half-said, half moaned into her ear, "my princess tomorrow morning... and my little fuckdoll by sunset?" "Mmm... I'll be your whatever, whenever," she assured me, rubbing my cheek with one hand while the other guided mine to the fastener of her pants. "Your goddess, your queen, your depraved slut, your sweetheart - I'll be all of that, whenever you need me to be any of them. Just as long as I get to be yours... what comes after that isn't really as important." This, I realized, is what romance sounds like for us. This is what affection is when you're a pair of equally odd and flawed beings who thrive on some mixture of affection and cruelty. A pair of switches, filled almost equally with needs for gentle and soft caresses and kisses blended in with either dealing out or receiving pain, need one another in these different ways that are difficult to understand for some. The most loving thing we could do for one another is promise to do our best to be what the other needed when they needed it. I thought all of this but the words wouldn't form in my mouth right - they felt superfluous, misshapen. I couldn't say anything poetic or deep at that point because the combination of a dizzying state of enamored feelings blended with a pulse-quickening lust made my head too foggy for formation of formulaic nouns and verbs meant to convey such complex ideas as this. I simply pulled her tighter against me, a rich bolt of pleasure shooting through me as I drew a gasp from her followed by a plaintive and mewling little moan. "You are mine," I said finally. She melted into my arms and slid my hand under the waistband of her panties. "Say it again?" She pleaded wistfully with half-closed eyes. "Mine." My voice found it's base notes again as I began to lightly grind my fingers against her sex, feeling the moisture level already there clinging to my fingers. She bucked up to meet them with enthusiasm, groaning long notes into the collar of my shirt even as her hands awkwardly fumbled with the bottom of it, trying to lift it up from an odd angle. "Mine," I repeated, rolling her nipple across my palm. "Mmmmph..." "Mine." The fingers against her pussy began to move a bit faster, focusing on her clit. "Nnngh..!" "Mine." I yanked her back firmly, teeth bared a bit as she managed to exposed my chest and begin dreamily kissing and licking at it. "Haaaah...!" I pressed my middle and ring finger into the squeezing little passage, feeling those lower lips trying to suck me in, then aimed up and strummed at her g-spot like I was playing the notes of a base guitar before repeating, once more and more sternly than ever: "Mine." "Yessss..." she hissed out through clenched teeth, Literally clawing at me as she tried to get a better angle and face closer to me. "I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm fuckin' yooooursssss... Oooh, fuuuuuck..." "Fuckin' cum for me then..." I instructed, nipping softly at her ear. "Look at me, show me that pretty little o-face... I earned that, so fuckin' show it to me..." She nodded slightly, trying her best to be a good girl and maintain eye-contact as she careened towards orgasmic bills. I swear, I could watch that woman cum for the rest of my life and never get bored. I let her milk my fingers for a bit as she came, still lightly rubbing her clit and g-spot as she shuddered into her orgasm, then slipped my fingers free and licked them clean. "Too... fast..." she whimpered, a bit out of breath. "Why'd you make me cum so soon?" "First of many, I assure you..." I replied, picking her up without warning and carrying her off to the bedroom. "We'll see how many it takes before you lose your voice." "Meanie." She said this with her arms and legs wrapped around me, and right before kissing me like she was trying to steal all the air from my lungs. We both knew what she meant by it. And as I tossed her onto the bed and took off what was left of my shirt, she giggled and started stripping without a word of prompting. "If we're just lovers tonight..." she said softly, "then I can play a bit more aggressively, can't I?" I blinked, shirt still around my head, as I was suddenly pinned against the wall. There was a rushing sound as my bet was yanked off and tossed across the room, then my pants being undone and unzipped. "You always put so much emphasis on making me cum... and then you get all stingy with your own orgasms? Hardly fair." I was starting to protest, but then she was gazing up at me with those gorgeous dark eyes of hers and half my cock shoved down her throat. I couldn't help but groan and just let my shirt fall away, letting her do as she pleased. "You really... think I'm stingy?" I managed between stifled grunts as she slid her pretty lips and tongue up and down the length of me teasingly slowly, taking special care to flick at the tip. "With this?" She asked, stroking my cock for emphasis. "Absolutely. Sometimes a girl just wants to make her man cum until he can't cum anymore... and that goes double for girls like me." She kissed the head of my cock and smiled at me. "I mean, look at this thing... always so happy to see me, always making me feel so good, so full... I wanna be nice to it, show my gratitude." "... And you want to be face-fucked like a dirty little slut from time to time," I added, managing a smile. "I got it, I got it. I'll work on being more accommodating..." My words trailed off as she grabbed the back of her own head and began forcing herself down on my shaft until she gagged and choked. She kept strict eye contact with me, but now with an air of defiance, almost threatening. It was as if she was saying, without speaking, that yes, I would be more accommodating in the future to her needs in this manner, or she would simply take what she needed. Normally, I'm not a big proponent of receiving head. But something about this was just too hot for words. The enthusiasm, the roughness, the warmth of her tongue and the knowledge she was literally causing herself discomfort strictly for my pleasure... it appealed to me for the obvious reasons. I bucked my hips in time with her motions, letting her fuck my dick with her mouth as I mostly groaned and took it like a good boy for once. She let it slide out of her mouth with a long, wet 'pop' that resonated in the room. "Mmmph... fuck that's big..." she whispered, almost reverent like this on her knees. "See, now I'm all out of practice..." She was stroking my cock viciously as she said this, so I didn't bother to ask if she wanted to stop despite voiced discomfort. I knew better - my girl was on a mission, and nothing was going to stop her except success, however she chose to define. It actually made me a bit nervous. She brought her tongue to my balls and rolled it across them, suckling and caressing them until I literally grabbed the wall behind me to keep myself standing. I couldn't really get a good gauge on her facial expression with the angle and all... but I'm fairly certain she was smiling. "Fuuuuuck..." I managed out at last, caressing her hair a bit. "Forgot how good you are at that..." "Mmm, does my mouth really feel that good~?" she teased, still stroking as she looked up at me. "I'm so glad you like it... Because I don't plan to stop until you bust like a fire hydrant in July, got it?" I nodded. As if I had a choice. I knew she could be forceful - Babydoll was always good at that. But I'd never experienced something quite like this. She was literally taking me, fucking me with her mouth, grabbing my thighs when I started to move and holding me in place or using them for leverage to try and shove me deeper into her milking, ready throat. I was on the edge of exploding much sooner than I'd expected, and as she felt my cock twitching inside her mouth she dug her nails into my stomach as if daring me to move. I'm not sure if it was the commanding nature, the single-mindedness, the pain or some combination of them all... but I practically howled like a coyote as I came with nowhere for it to go but down. I felt like I was emptying myself into her, like I was being drained... and it may sound cliché but I swear when she kept sucking as I came, I left my body for a few seconds. By the time she decided she was done with me I felt a bit light-headed and whatnot still... but I wasn't about to be outdone. She was still wiping her mouth with a self-satisfied grin when I grabbed her ankles and put her in a pinning position, thighs up by her head. She struggled, albeit playfully, before I began furiously lapping at her sex through her panties. From there, her resistance went from token to nonexistent... and when I moved the red lace to the side with just my teeth and tongue and assaulted her clit in earnest, she couldn't really do much but shudder and whimper out my name. I heard her mumble 'oh shit, oh shit," repeatedly to herself, her thighs starting to quiver, as I switched tactics and ran my tongue up and down her lips. I smirked down at her and winked, then proceeded to bury my face and tongue inside her pussy, take a deep breath through my nose... and begin to hum whilst moving it about as if I were speaking a Spanish word with 20 or more rolling 'r' sounds. "Shit, shit, Goooood DAMN you!!" she shouted out, grabbing a handful of my hair and pulling me forward as if afraid I would pull away. But I had the opposite plan - when she began to cum I kept on going... and going... and going... until she was slapping the floor with one hand and yanking her hair with the other. She finally begged for mercy and I whipped her juices into my chin whilst chuckling and smacking her ass. "Turnabout-" I started to say, only to be silenced by her bolting upright and kissing me again. The rest was something of a blur. We never quite made it over to the bed, though at one point she was gripping the frame... it was a passionate series of groans and primal noises of pleasure as we rolled around on the floor, moving into whatever position struck out fancies or gave us a better angle to caress each other. For the first time since I lost my virginity, I had no "order" in mind for positions; it was all just passionate gripping and kissing, groping and biting, rug burn on the knees and curse words uttered with the fervent ritualistic sanctity of Hail Marys and Our Fathers. Time meant nothing. We stopped counting out orgasms. Her name was the only thing on the back or front of my mind. We slept together on the floor, a writhing tangle of limbs coated in sweat and love juices, heaving and sighing as we stared up at the ceiling. After all the rope play, the sex toys, the controlled spanking sessions, and all the other kinkiness... something felt more powerful about this relatively kinkless night of passion. She dragged a blanket off the bed and over us both, then curled her head to my chest and mumbled cutely. "You're perfect, Babydoll." She nodded. "Just for you, Sir." "I meant what I said. I'm gonna be more honest with you. More myself, just with you, from here on out." I sat up a little, rubbing her cheek. "It may take a while... but I'll try." "All I ever wanted," she replied. "And if tonight's any indication... it's going to be fun." I chuckled a bit, then kissed her forehead. "I meant what I said too, y'know," she added. "Long as I'm yours, the second part doesn't matter." "I don't plan on letting you go." And with that, we just sort of drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other's arms. I'd never felt more exposed and secure at once in one night... which is just how it felt when you knew you found someone or something very special.