3 comments/ 19907 views/ 4 favorites Hauling Ass Ch. 01 By: Maresy_Doats I drive a lot. I drive all over the state, and I'm never shy about seeing a new road or town. And it's not a small place. I was on one of my usual roadtrips, looking for new places and maybe a better job market, this time exploring northwestern bits I'd never been to before. I had a map, but I didn't usually use it. I didn't usually know where I was except for a general idea until I asked gas station attendants, and it was the sort of area where even they couldn't give you a straight answer without using the words "in between." At this particular moment in time I was "in between" Adrian and Vega, and just about all I could tell you was that I should have gone to the bathroom at the last gas station I'd seen. It should have only been about another ten minutes, but the seat belt was doing cruel things to my bladder, so I finally decided to pull off and piss behind the car. There wasn't much traffic, so I didn't worry too hard about anyone seeing me. Besides, the idea of someone catching a glimpse was actually more exciting than anything else. I pulled down my jeans to my knees, spread my feet, and leaned against the car in a creative pissing position my dear college buddy had deemed "the drunken hobo." A blaring honk from a truck without a trailer made me jump, and I lost my balance and stumbled, barely keeping out of my own puddle. I tossed a finger at the truck as it blew past and pulled up my jeans. I walked around to the drivers side and got in before I noticed the truck had pulled off, too. I thought for a second. I could start the engine and speed off, ensuring my safety and a thoroughly uneventful roadtrip...or I could see what the muscular beast stepping down from his rig wanted. Hey, I'm always up for meeting new people. So I put my keys in the ignition, rolled down the driver's side window halfway, and sat back to wait. If he really had something to say, maybe the long walk to my car would help him get it in order. In the meantime I studied him. The closer he came, the nicer he looked. Probably a good ten or fifteen years older than me, he looked to be in his late thirties. I brushed too-long bangs out of my eyes to get a better look. That was long, dark hair coming out of his hat, about shoulder length. A strong, bristled jaw, a muscled frame, blue jeans that had the sorts of tears and holes in them you get from playing hard. Big black boots. A black shirt with some kind of splashed, messy looking print that could only imply a metal band. ...Shit. As much as I loved metal, I hadn't had much luck with metalheads. I'd put the percentage of loud music lovers that I knew who could also hold an intelligent conversation at around 10%. Don't judge, I told myself, he hasn't even said hello yet. Nor did he. He reached the window, set his huge arms on top of the car, peered in and said "Well don't you look feral." Feral. Acceptable word. I smiled and asked what he wanted. I knew I looked his type, with my eyeliner on and my piercings in. Maybe this would go better than bad. "Thought I'd take you up on that offer." His voice was a low growl, an accent that wasn't Texan coming through. Those eyes were a cold, deep blue that almost wasn't blue at all. His breath smelled like Camels. "What offer might that be?" I asked, smirking up at him. Ah, Pantera, that was his shirt. It was a legitimate tour shirt, too. Impressive. "Be polite. Say either yes Sir or no Sir." I blinked. It was an intriguing offer. Figuring that it wasn't that hard to change my mind, and I didn't give a shit about pissing off someone I'd never see again, I went with "Yes, Sir." He grinned a little, just at the corner of that hard mouth. "Won't you come over to my place?" He gestured back to his truck, and I opened the door and stepped out. I had a long walk back to his giant, shiny-as-fuck rig to think about what I was doing, but all I could focus on was the smell of Camels. I tried to make conversation, but he wasn't very talkative. We reached the door and he invited me into the back of the cab. I paused for a second, but truthfully, it was all so exciting that there wasn't a chance in hell of me turning around. True to his clothing preference, his CD player had been left on and was still blasting Pantera. He turned it down and looked at me for a long time. I returned the stare as long as I could, before finally looking at the bed. It might have been respect, or it might have been an invitation to study other aspects of my own personal clothing preferences. He reached up and snaked a thick finger through the O-ring on my collar. "No tag, pussycat?" I blushed, realizing the song playing at the moment was a cover of Cat Scratch Fever. "No," I replied quietly. "You know what that thing means, right?" "I know what it used to mean. Now it's meaning has changed." "Really?" "Really." He studied me a second more, and finally I decided explanation was in order. "It used to mean what you may or may not think it does. Now I am my own Owner." "Ah." Finger still in the loop, he tugged me closer. I had to scoot toward him to keep from falling forward. "I'm glad, then, because otherwise this would probably be pissing Someone off, huh." "Dunno." His eyes got hard and he jerked the collar. "I didn't hear a 'Sir.'" "I mean no Sir, it...it actually, it's fun." I was losing my edge, becoming that sloppy submissive. I was letting a stranger push me around. I felt ashamed, but I also felt the rush of excitement start to leak into my jeans. What a stupid day to go commando -- now I was going to have to wash these somewhere along the drive. His finger left the collar and went instead to around my throat. His hands were huge, and I felt secretly wonderful. My eyes fell shut and I felt his other fingers circle my waist just under my top. He pulled me closer to him and asked if I'd ever been properly dominated. It broke the spell and this time it was my expression that got hard. I told him sure, I'd been dominated. It all sounds amazing until it happens, then you realize it's just another way to say one-sided sex. I said it was great to serve, but remembering it just reminds me why I own myself nowadays. I said it isn't like in the stories. He didn't let go of me, but he waited patiently while I turned my own mood sour. I got quiet for a minute and sat there frustrated, my neck in the hands of a total stranger, feeling more and more hopeless about sex and relationships, and wishing with all my heart that I was on the road again. It wasn't until I decided to act on that impulse and tried to pull away that his grip tightened on both parts of me. Something very wrong clicked in my mind and I lost it. I couldn't talk, couldn't think, just struggled against that grip that wouldn't let go. Some part of my brain knew it wasn't hurting me, just holding me, but that didn't stop me from freaking out. I elbowed and pushed, and got one of his hands off of my waist, only to have it pin both my arms against my sides and circle me even more completely. I might have been crying, but I don't remember anything else. I got too worked up, and I'd gone and passed out. Bad, right? Eh, when you don't have anything to lose, adventure is adventure is adventure. Hauling Ass Ch. 02 I woke up a while later in the cab. There was no light at all, in fact, it was hard to tell if my eyes really were open. That probably meant it had been a couple of hours, since it was pretty late in the day when I pulled off to take a leak. Shit, way to make it to Amarillo, I thought. I wondered how much time I had left in the night, or if I'd slept too far into it. Then I remembered what had happened, and a wave of embarrassment flooded over me. I should have been scared, considering, but all I felt was stupid for flipping out around a man I didn't know. A pretty man I didn't know. A Dominant man I didn't know. Great. Screw these panic attacks. I sat up, figuring if he had stepped out that I could make it back to my car in the darkness and get the hell out and move on to another town, another place to explore. I felt that all of my clothing was in place, and noticed my collar was missing. It's a hard thing to miss, actually, since I wore it pretty snug. I felt around on the bed for it and accidentally got a palm full of denim-on-thigh. Shit! I leapt up, tripped on my own feet, and fell back down. Well, if he hadn't been awake then, he was fucking awake now! A huge, strong arm encircled me again and held me down against the mattress. I realized I could talk again. "Dude," I whispered, "Please let go of me, I have to go. This has been fun, but I've gotta get outta town." "You're out of town," the rough voice in the darkness answered. "And it's 'Sir,' not 'dude.' Say it again, kitten, and I'll take this belt off." I couldn't help but laugh. "Your belt? Really? What are you going to do, give me a whoopin'?" The second I said it I knew it was a stupid thing to say. I stopped laughing immediately. This was a pretty big man. I bet he could swing a belt pretty hard, come to think of it. It was as exciting as anything else, but I didn't feel it was necessary to press my luck anymore with this stranger. I went with "I'm sorry, Sir." Just saying the word again sent that warm, tingly sensation through my lower body. I remembered my place and the rebellious part of me shut the hell up. "May I please go, Sir?" "No." Goddammit. I laid there, still, waiting for him to make the next move. He asked this time if I wanted to be properly dominated. I flushed in the dark, that bitterness and sour feeling returning. "No," I answered simply, mimicking his own previous answer in brevity. His fingers stroked up my middle, running under my shirt and caressing my flesh. Electricity sparked through my body from the skin he touched, forcing a little sigh out of my lungs. I hoped he hadn't heard it, but the growing purposefulness of his fingers let me know he had. "Please, Sir," I whispered to the ceiling. "I do not want to be dominated, I don't want to be touched, it's never right." He rolled further toward me and I felt his rough, sexy stubble against my shoulder, his smoke-tinted breath on my neck. His lips touched my shoulder, his teeth grazed my skin, his mouth worked its way in toward my neck and bit down tenderly on muscle and grew in intensity. The electricity sparked through me again and I accidentally let out a little moan. He nibbled up my neck and sunk his teeth into my ear around my piercings, and I couldn't control myself for a second. My arm came up and gripped his upper arm, my back arched and I whispered "please!" "Please what?" "Please...please sir..." I already felt silly about having said it, but he was chewing on me again and it hurt so deliciously good. "Please sir what?" "Please...um...oh... please do that again, Sir..." A happy sound rumbled through him and he ran a hand through my hair and kissed me on the lips. His stubble burned on my skin, but his tongue worked mine and my hips lifted of their own accord. His fingers slid into my jeans and stroked my wet slit, grinding tenderly at my clitoris and eliciting more sighs and little moans. For a split second out of the bliss I remembered where I was and what we were doing, and my mind snapped back to hopelessness. "No," I whispered, "this is a waste of time, just hurt me, fuck me, and let's get out of here." He stopped touching me everywhere, and deep inside of me I was sad I had made it stop, even though it was absolutely right. I'd fucked my share of men, and no man had made me come. In the end all of the foreplay had led to the guy jizzing and going to sleep. He didn't know that, he couldn't have, and what kind of service would it be to let him waste his time? I took advantage of his stillness by reaching down and sliding off my pants. I pulled off my top, too, and lay back in the blackness and waited. If we were the going to do this, I wanted to just do it and get back to my car. "Who fucked you up?" Oh, come on. "Nobody fucked me up, I'm a terrific lay. Don't assign me a sob story." "I'll be giving the orders, kitten." I shut up except for a yes Sir and stared up into absolute blackness. He tried to stroke me in various ways again, but I shied away from it when I could and zoned out when I couldn't. I didn't want to be here anymore. I wanted to be in Amarillo. In my car, in a hotel room, it didn't matter as long as I was alone. There was a sharp sting as his hand struck my tit. "Hey!" I shouted, snapping right out of my zone and pissed at the blow. "What the fuck, ma-...Sir. What the hell?" "You weren't paying attention. Look," he rumbled, "I don't know what idiot taught you to do this, but it's not what I like. Do your new Dom the favor of paying attention and being responsive." "My new what? Excuse me? I'm owned, sorry fella." I felt the thick leather of my collar on the tip of my nose and made a grab for it, missed, and tried to push him off of me. "Look!" I snapped, "You can play top, you can play sexy, you can even fuck me. But you don't own me, and I'm not going to do anyone any favors by pretending to like anything!" "Pretending?" He snorted. He bit into my shoulder again and I tried my hardest to suppress a moan. His finger pushed into my slippery hole and I arched into it, too overwhelmed by that first feeling of penetration to think. I heard him laugh out loud, a deep, sexy sound, and the part of me needing the physical feeling fell for the same old trick that foreplay disguised as a promise. It won over my fear and I melted, "Okay fine, but can we keep that stuff short please Sir and get to the fucking?" "You don't want to be fucked. You want it because it means that this," he stirred my cunt like a cup of coffee, "is over faster and you won't have to feel it. Well guess what little kitty, you're not getting out of it that easily." He slipped a second thick finger inside and my fingernails were in his flesh, my back arching, my hips grinding, his mouth on my neck. I couldn't stop the moaning, it just happened, it sounded like someone else in the cab crying out while his big fingers drove concentration out of my mind. His other hand tortured a nipple under my bra, squeezing it, pinching it, bruising it. Suddenly terror overtook my mind as I felt something distinctly overwhelming build in my center. I cussed and said no, no no, no... "Yes, kitten?" "No, please stop now, please it's happening..." I tried to get away from his hand, tried to scoot back and up but it only drove his hand further into my cunt, which was making a thorough mess of the bed and getting juices everywhere. "What's happening?" "IT'S happening, please stop, you have to fuck me now," I whimpered, knowing that once he started fucking me there wouldn't be any worry of me coming, and terrified that if he didn't stop now I'd explode and it would all be over. Rather than quitting, he increased his rhythm, filling my cunt with his fingers and stroking all the right...shit! I cried out and bucked as orgasm pulsed through my body and wetness spilled out across his hand. He left his fingers inside of me until I stopped shuddering, and then pulled them out and stroked them across my skin, depositing my own juices on my belly. I curled up, waiting for the anger, so ashamed and embarrassed. When my heart had slowed a bit more, and when he still hadn't said anything, I sat up and felt around for my shirt. His hands caught my hips before I could stand up and I stayed put. I waited patiently for him to say or do something. Finally he did, "Who ever told you that coming was bad?" "Oh come on! Nobody! Nothing is fucking wrong with me, alright? Jeez, all you guys need a fucking damsel in distress to save, don't you? Shit." I found my shirt and slipped it over my head, fixing my bra and combing my fingers through my hair while I was at it. Silence for a second, then suddenly his hands grabbed my shoulders and threw me down on the bed. I couldn't see, but I felt him above me and then his stubble was scratching my cunt lips, his fingers burrowing into my flesh to hold me down. His tongue lapped at my clit and I shrieked and tried to scoot away from his mouth. "Stop! That's really sensitive!" I howled, and then it started again almost immediately. I couldn't stop it, it was too strong, it built and built and I begged him to stop again, or at least to fuck me, if he was going to do this again... He didn't, I couldn't, I exploded again and it felt like every part of my body was going to fly apart. He held his mouth on my pussy for a little while after I came, waiting until it stopped pulsing, and I realized again what an idiot I was for letting him get me off again without having even started on him. This was never going to fucking end. I started to cry silently in frustration as he licked slowly and tenderly up and down my hole, sore from his stubble. I waited for his hold to release and his tongue to stop to make a dash for my pants. My hands found them but he caught my head mid-lunge and playfully shoved it onto his crotch, hard as a rock beneath his jeans. I emitted a muffled squeal and pushed myself away from him. I was humiliated, I was embarrassed, and I wanted out. He let me pull away and I realized why when he asked why I was crying. I said, "You've had your fun, I'm going now. You should have fucked me when you had the chance. It was lovely making your acquaintance, Mr....." "Sir." "Sir." I sighed. Maybe he got off on anonymity. But who was I to talk? "Be honest, kitten, what did I do wrong, exactly? I know you loved that. I felt you love that. What's wrong?" I was a bit taken off guard by the tenderness in his rough voice, but part of me knew that was a key point of the play. "I told you, nothing is wrong. I can't help what my body does. Look, it's been swell, but the swelling's gone down." "So why are you crying?" "Please, it's been a long time, and the cops are going to come knocking on your cab door if you just stay here all night." "Come to a motel with me, then, we're not that far from Amarillo." "You're off your rocker." "Maybe I'm just not done." "I gave you plenty of chances to fuck me, you decided to fingerbang me instead." "I meant with you." Geez. "Whatever, fine. I'll follow, I promise, let me out." "And how exactly do I know you'll follow me, hmm, kitten?" His tone made me stop. Now that he'd said it, I didn't want to leave, anymore. He was toying with me like a puppet. "You'll pay for the room? ...I want two beds." "I'll cover it." "...I'll follow, then. I'm tight on funds." I sighed. It was completely true. A free room was worth it, it wasn't like getting raped was really a risk, anyways. "Find a place that serves breakfast," I added. "Deal." Hauling Ass Ch. 03 He let me finish getting dressed and walked me to my car. He wouldn't give me my collar back until we got to the city, and since it was worth quite a bit to me, I didn't change my mind about following him on the road. We pulled into a place about 45 minutes later and I waited while he checked us in. It was a motel with a spacious-looking lobby and a decent enough exterior, and I followed him into room 42. I've always loved hotel and motel rooms, so I spent the first several minutes examining the place and screwing off. I was examining the bathroom when he came up behind me and gingerly stroked my arm. I jumped a little, then turned around and got the first good look at him in hours. Somehow I had gotten eyeliner on his arm, and his eyes looked much more patient and friendly now. In fact, his whole face looked even more appealing than it had before, and it was a challenge not to lean into that broad, strong chest that read Pantera. He leaned down and kissed me, held me and kissed me like we knew each other, and when he pulled away again I almost felt sad. I squeezed past him to get to the mirror and realized that I did, in fact, look exactly as much like shit as I had predicted after our evening together, with eyeliner smudged all over my face and a horrendous case of sex hair. I bent over the sink to wash my face off while he wandered over to one of the beds and flipped on the TV. Despite everything we'd done so far, it was still embarrassing to face him without makeup. He didn't seem to notice, though, and against my best sense I snuggled into him on the bed. I couldn't help it, he just looked so...comfortable. There apparently wasn't anything on TV, because he shut it off and rolled over to face me. "So, what now, little pussycat?" "I thought you made all the decisions, Sir." For some reason I felt much more confident here, in the light. All defenses were down, and when his hand came up to stroke my arm I let him. "I am getting the distinct impression that you don't want to talk about why, exactly, a pretty little kitten like you hates to come." "I'll give you the short answer," I said, a bit annoyed that this had come up again just when I was feeling more comfortable. "Sex is for men. The point of it is for you to come, the point of bdsm is for me to help you come, and no Dom I have ever, ever met had anything else in mind when it comes to servitude besides making a girl suck them off with no obligation to return the favor. Foreplay is a lie -- it's a promise that the pleasure will be mutual, when as soon as the sex starts it's over. I don't like empty promises. I don't like being lied to. If, in fact, the sex is for the guy -- I want to just keep it at that. I don't want a promise to be made when it isn't going to be followed through on." "But I made you come twice and never got off myself. Wasn't that for you?" "No, and I'm sorry I came. I let you down -- it didn't give you a chance to get off. But you were the one insisting that even be done, not me. That was for you. I don't know why you didn't just fuck me, I offered like a zillion times. I'm sorry, okay?" "Your argument's a little variable." "You don't talk like a trucker, you know that?" "Because all truckers have to be idiotic, old, sweaty, fat men who listen to country and tawlk liyuk thiyis?" I laughed a little, blushed, and said "I guess everyone faces stereotypes." "Why do you care how I talk anyways?" I blushed harder now, trying to think of something to make up. I stammered..."I uh...um..." "What?" Fuck it, why not? "...it...it kind of turns me on." "What does, kitten?" "...People who talk well, who speak intelligently. It's...it's really sexy." Tears of embarrassment started to well up in my eyes again. He laughed, a rough laugh that sent a little jolt of that electricity through me again. "Well, in that case. Penicillin. Square root. Oxymoron. Verisimilitude." I laughed, but I lost control of those tears and started crying, too. I buried my face into his armpit to hide it, and he laughed more and wound himself around me. I felt so tiny and surrounded, but it wasn't really bad this time. It wasn't until he asked me to lift my head that I realized he'd worked up my shirt. "What...more?" I stuttered a bit, obediently lifting my head and arms to get the top off. I knew there was fear in my eyes from the expression in his, but I let him slide down my jeans, too. This time my bra came off as well, and I laid there nude in full light for the first time in front of him. I was too worried to grab for the blanket, too nervous to think of something to say. I shut my eyes and pretended I was somewhere else, hoping quietly that he'd do his thing and the whole issue could then be forgotten. How did this go from flipping off a trucker to a motel stay? He examined me with his fingertips, running them across my torso and exploring the flesh he hadn't gotten to see in the dark of the cab on a moonless night. I was too self conscious to open my eyes, but it felt nice to be touched so tenderly, so I let him continue. When I felt his mouth take in my nipple my eyes shot open in surprise and I let out a little gasp. He looked up at me, smiled, and moved up to kiss me. He really was an astounding kisser. I thought to ask, "hey, are you seeing anyone?" He blinked. "What, like, girlfriends?" I nodded. "I have slaves. I don't have any girlfriends, but...I'm not really the kind of guy who ties himself down." "Ah," I smiled. "The man-whore type?" "Says the woman I've been fucking all night?" "We haven't fucked yet!" "Fucking does not have to be cock-in-pussy, that's what I've been trying to show you!" "Ugh, yes it does! It starts when you put your cock in me and it ends when you get off. That's sex." "Uh huh. And what do you call what we just did, then?" "A waste of time!" My face stung before I even realized I'd been hit. "Hey! You just hit me!" "Keep it down, cat." He put a big hand over my mouth and said, "I've let you be very forward, but I'm not going to let you disagree with me anymore. If I say it's sex, it's sex, period. You take your Master's word as law, got it?" There wasn't anything to do but glare at him and nod. When his hand was off my mouth I asked, "Why do you keep calling me a cat, anyways." "That's what you are, kitten." I sighed. I wasn't taking this bullshit anymore. I calmly sat up, got on hands and knees, pushed my tits against the bed and waved my ass in the air. He had to fuck it, it was right there. Then I'd have fulfilled my purpose, the point of this incredibly long and drawn out foreplay, and I could go to sleep guilt-free and on the other mattress. I was in for a surprise. He'd brought in a bag when we got the room that I had assumed was his overnight bag. From it he pulled several lengths of rope. I asked if he could please fuck me now, and when he said he was getting to it and told me to shut up, I did. He stroked my cunt and inserted a thick finger, and used it to hold me still while he used his other hand to shake the rope out of the coils. I don't know what was wrong with me, but I couldn't help pushing into that finger as it stroked and twirled inside my hole, and I whimpered when it pulled out. It only took him a couple of seconds to have my hands, feet, and neck restrained. Then, he took his time artfully winding rope around and around me. The feel of the rope gliding across my bare skin had a sedating effect, and I laid there peacefully and lazily being tied. Every now and then he stroked my ass or tugged my hair, bringing me just back enough to the surface to really enjoy the feeling. Too lazy to feel annoyed at even more pointless foreplay, I just let him cover me in binding until he was done, at which point he went to the bag for something else. I couldn't see what he was doing, but I heard him plug something in and immediately my juices started running. He chuckled and asked me if I wanted to serve him. I paused, and he placed something soft but hard against my clit. I gasped instead of answering, and he clicked it on. Everything in the room disappeared and I bucked and writhed as much as the ropes let me against the vibrator, moaning into the blankets and completely unable to think. It clicked off and I sagged, momentarily exhausted from the intense sensation. He asked me again, "Do you want to serve me, kitten?" I bit my lip, pondering the question until the vibrator clicked again and I shook with feeling, "Yes, yes, YES YES YES," I howled, and the vibrator clicked off again. He was walking into my line of vision then, and he pushed the vibrator head against my mouth and commanded me to lick it. It was the back massager kind, meant for serious clitoral stimulation - I mean back massaging. I licked my cunt juices off of it, and was still licking when he pulled it away from my mouth. He lifted my head by my hair and offered his cock, which I greedily took into my mouth and began to blow as well as I could in my position. He growled and thrust into my mouth, pushing on the back of my head to shove his huge, thick cock down my throat. When he finally pulled out I got a really good look at it, and immediately felt my cunt drip even more. He was a very blessed man, both in terms of length and girth, to the point I actually became a little apprehensive about fucking it. "That...that..." "Yes, kitten?" I stuttered, not really sure what to say and so high on the ropes and vibrator treatment that thinking wasn't currently my forte. "You want to serve me, don't you, little stray pussycat?" "Yes Sir," I mumbled into the blankets. "Then come for me again." "What?" I looked up, shocked and confused. "Aren't you going to fuck me?" "I've been fucking you, kitten, and I want to see you come again, in the light this time." The tone in his deep voice was insistent, and I became nervous through the fog of pleasure. "How?" "Just like we did before." He stroked a hand down my rope-covered back and spanked my ass cheek. A spark of pleasure raced up my spine and I arched in the ropes to request it again. He spanked the other cheek this time, and then alternated for a long time. I was moaning and whimpering, arching and straining, and suddenly his thumb was stroking my clit and two of his thick fingers were working my hole again. I was barely there, writhing and crying out, and just when I was almost there he withdrew his fingers, grabbed my ass cheeks, and eased his thick cock into my desperate pussy. I shouted yes and pushed back onto his member, taking as much of it as I could and reveling in how much his huge cock stretched my tight little hole. He didn't touch my clit again for a long time, pumping into my eager, soaking wet pussy, but I didn't care. I was howling and thrusting backwards into him, mindless and happy in the sensation his cock elicited. He pulled on the ropes, tortured my breasts and spanked my ass, all while thrusting viciously. He began to speed up, and I cried out in pleasure. Just before he came he held the massager to my clit and snapped it on. I screamed into the sheets as I came, and I was still coming when he pounded his own orgasm deep into me. We stayed there for a little while, slowly relaxing and enjoying the feeling, and finally he pulled out of me, tossed the vibrator on the other bed and undid my ropes enough to let me lay down. I was speechless. Thinking was hard enough, talking was impossible. I didn't know what to say, and I felt too good to do anything but lay there against him. I had never come with a guy before. I felt absolutely wonderfully dominated, as though my body was entirely in his hands. I wrapped a rope-covered arm across his big ribcage, kissed his side, and slipped into a deep, happy sleep.