Haunted by Him- Temptation

by lanie love

  “Am I going to need a lawyer?”

  “Not at all,” I laugh. Damn, she’s mouthy. I like that. It makes for good punishments. I wait impatiently as she reads and signs it.

  “Done,” she says, handing it back to me.

  “Good,” I say, breathing a little easier as I take the form out of her hand and sign it before.

  “Don’t I get a copy of that,” she asks, seeing me about to put it away. I run it through the copier. “Thank you,” she says, folding her copy and putting it in her bag.

  “Now that we've gotten that out of the way, tell me, how long have you been involved in the BDSM lifestyle?”

  “Why does this feel like an interview,” she asks and I give a slight shrug because that’s exactly what it is. “Well, to be perfectly honest, I'm not. I really don't know much about it.” My eyes widen a bit and my jaw tightens. What the hell game is she playing? I’m all ears because I really want to hear this. “I only know what I've researched. I want to have first-hand experience, but I'm not sure how to go about it. Going to the club was a mistake, though. What they were doing there isn't quite what I had in mind.”

  “Why?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I'm good at reading people and you don't strike me as a girl who, gets around, for lack of a better phrase. So, why go to such an extreme?” I’m trying to gauge her, but she gives nothing away. “I only ask because I want to know how serious you are about this. I don't want to waste my time and energy if I decide to take you on as my submissive.” She perks up at that.

  “Mr. Wade, um…” She stops. A smile plays on my lips when she loses her words. I’ve caught her completely off guard and I’m pleased by it. “Are you saying that you’re—”

  “Yes, I am a Dominant. When first we met, you stated that you didn't have one. I've asked you to come here because I wanted you to be my submissive, but now, I’m forced to rethink things.”

  I can't take this girl on without previous experience. There is no way she’ll be able to meet my needs. Fuck. But I hate to let this one go. Maybe I can train her. Taper down my aggressiveness long enough to let her get a feel for the lifestyle, then mold her to fit my needs. This might work.

  “I’m curious as to what you’ve come up with,” she says. She is such a curious little thing. That could work in my favor.

  “I’ll agree to train you. I’ll teach you everything you need to become a submissive for a Dom, should you ever choose to have one.”

  “You’d really do that?”

  “Of course. Granted, it's a bit unorthodox and not at all my usual style. I've never guided anyone in BDSM before. The women I play with are well into the lifestyle and are quite seasoned. However, something about you intrigues me. You’ve managed to catch my attention. Call me curious.”

  Make no mistake Miss Turner, if you are half as good as I suspect you can be, you will have your pick of Doms. After I've had my fill of you, of course.

  “Well, Curious, I really haven't done anything attention-worthy.” Ohhh, how I am itching to spank her for that mouth.

  “On the contrary, and at the risk of showing my hand, I haven't been able to get you off my mind since I saw you downstairs. If you’d been alone, things may have ended quite differently. More than likely, with you accompanying me up here.”

  “You certainly are sure of yourself,” she laughs.

  “I’m just a man who gets what he wants and what I very much want now is to be the one to teach you the lifestyle. What do you say to that?” I throw down the gauntlet and dare her to try and not pick it up.

  “There are so many things wrong with it.”

  “Such as?”

  “For one, I have zero experience with this type of thing. I talk a good game, but I’ve only been with three guys, boys really, one back in college, and one before I moved here—”

  “Are you joking? Three guys and you're considering doing this? I'm sure if you waited to fall in love that would be a better way to experience things.”

  “And that's the other thing. See, I have a boyfriend whom I love very much.”

  “Are you two exploring this together then,” I ask. This is a bucket of cold fucking water on my plans.

  “No. And I’m really not exploring it. It’s just research training.”

  “Well, now I'm intrigued. Even though you are in love with your boyfriend, you’re willing to cheat on him all in the name of research?”

  Oh, you are a naughty little thing, aren't you? Unfortunately, I don't do couples. This could be a deal breaker.

  “No, no, it wouldn't be like that. I’m not going to cheat on him. This is just similar to what I’d do for work projects. Just getting my hands dirty, so to speak.”

  “So, what you’re telling me is that this is for some story you’ve cooked up? Are you getting me involved in some sex documentary?”

  “No, of course not. Please, let me explain, you see, my boyfriend, as great as he is, he really can't meet certain sexual needs.”

  “He sucks in bed?” I really have to meet this prick.

  “No, he doesn’t. Okay, I’m just going to come right out and say it. I like pain. I find pleasure in it. It arouses me. I'm what you might call a masochist.”

  ****

  She has just about knocked me out of my chair. Is she sitting there on that pretty little tight, sweet ass of hers, informing me that she enjoys receiving pain and not only does she enjoy it, but she needs it for her arousal?

  Masochists, she says she is. Well, fuck the shit out of me, but I’m not buying it. Not my sweet looking little angel.

  “How would you know if you've not experienced sex? From the way you describe the two previous boys and now this current one, it doesn’t seem like anything to write home about.”

  “I had a stepfather when I was thirteen and he abused me, not sexually, but physically.” She waits for me to respond. I’ve got nothing. What can I possibly say to that? “It was the first time anyone had hit me like that and I liked it. I'm ashamed to say that, even though it wasn't his intention, he aroused me sexually. So much so that I did things to purposely anger him just so he would punish me.”

  “Punish you how?”

  “He would smack me around with the palm of his hands and if I was really lucky, sometimes he'd use his belt. After the punishments were over, I would run off to my room and masturbate. I was confused by it at first. The thought of having feelings for my stepfather made me feel dirty. It took me a while to realize that it was only the feel of the pain that got me so worked up.”

  “So, he never did anything to you…” I wave my hand around trying to think of a way to put it delicately. Catching my meaning, she shakes her head.

  “When my mother divorced him, I was at a loss,” she says. “I tried to forget, to gain some form of normalcy, but I couldn't. I missed the feel of being inflicted with that type of pain. I needed to feel it again. It was like I was addicted to it. My life was in turmoil because I couldn't function normally. It got so bad that my mom couldn't handle me, so she sent me to live with my dad. Things started to change when I went off to college.”

  “With the start of your three sexual encounters?”

  “Well, I fooled around some with other boys. Nothing beyond oral sex. As much as I tried, I couldn't have an orgasm. Until one night this guy and I were playing around, he got on top of me, held me down and tickled me. Right before he got up, he smacked me hard on my ass. The sensation overload from the tickling followed by the sharp zing from the slap, made me come. My panties were soaked. He was so excited that he wanted me to do it again. I didn't want to tell him that it was the hit to my ass that caused it. I didn't want that getting around campus.”

  “Right,” I say.

  I swear I want to listen to everything she is saying, but my mind has been taken over by my dick because all I am able to register is “pain… orgasm… coming hard… soaking panties.” My dick is pressed so tight against my fucking pants it's about to explo
de. I’m this close to excusing myself so that I may go and jack off.

  I have to have her. Fuck the boyfriend.

  And just when I was about to throw caution to the wind and give her the damn submissive contract to sign, she goes and blows it all to hell.

  “It wasn't until I got serious with my current boyfriend that those old feelings resurfaced again. It's gotten to the point now to where I can't have an orgasm unless I cut first,” she says.

  I was so busy listening to my dick that I must have completely missed the part where she says she has to cut to get an orgasm. Is she seriously telling me that she has to cut into that perfect skin to come?

  Oh no, no that won't do at all. My perfect little angel cannot be marred.

  “That’s the main reason why I’m having problems with my boyfriend. I'm afraid that he’ll see my scars and I'll have to tell him that I've been cutting myself to orgasm. I know I can't hide myself forever, but when he does see me, I want to be able to look him in the eyes and tell him that I no longer need to cut myself. So, I guess I'm looking for alternatives and BDSM seems like it would work. I'm hoping JR, my boyfriend, will join me in the lifestyle.”

  Yeah, sure he can join. Whatever it takes to get you to be mine. Now, let me pretend I actually give a fuck.

  “Miss Turner,” I say, clearing my throat. “I understand some of your reasoning, but I'm not sure if this is the way to go. I'm not sure I can help you in the way that you need, in a way that's right, or even healthy. The fact that you’re going to such extremes to hide all this from your boyfriend makes me think that he’ll never accept it and I think deep down, you know that.” I pause briefly, pretending to think. “So, if you want to be with him, the only way I see it working is for you to learn how not to depend on cutting for pleasure.”

  “I’ve tried. It’s hopeless. I think this will work for me.”

  “The BDSM lifestyle is not a be-all to end-all cure. It may take away your need to cut, but you will still be depending on pain for your release. Have you tried therapy? I would be more than happy to introduce you to my therapist. Or maybe he’d be able to recommend someone who deals with sex and pain addiction.

  “With all due respect, sir, I have run the gamut with therapists. None of it has helped. And to tell you the truth, my addictions are really none of your concern. It is my job to help myself. I’ve made up my mind that this is the way I want to do it and now I'm asking for your guidance in the BDSM lifestyle.”

  Well, well, well, my angel has teeth. And she thinks I'm fucking serious. Oh, if she would have called my bluff.

  “For your boyfriend?”

  “I truly believe that once I present my research to him, he will agree. He will be my Dom and then you could help us both.” And now I'm pissed.

  “I am not going to advise another man on how to fuck you.” The limp dick loser you've attached yourself to is on his own. I'll be happy to pass him on to Jen though, I'm sure she'll help him out. “And with all due respect to you, I have had my fair share of psychotic subs, a fiancée, actually, who for some reason or another can’t seem to detach herself from me. I'm not looking to add another one of those to the list.”

  She gasps, having the nerve to be insulted.

  “I am not psychotic. I admit I have intimacy issues, but I am not unstable. Wow, you have some nerve.”

  She sits back with her arms crossed over her chest. She is actually pissed off and pouting at and damn if it’s not adorable. I turn to hide my smile and hand her the rest of the paperwork printed from my computer. She is so fucking cute. I want so much to spank that feisty little ass of hers.

  “A contract. Read it carefully and feel free to ask questions.” I don't expect her to sign it yet. She can't agree to be mine until she rids herself of the dead weight, she thinks is a boyfriend.

  “Do subs really give up this much control,” she asks.

  “Mine do.”

  “I see. And I completely understand how this contract would normally work for your submissives, but I think that our arrangement is different and therefore, different rules should apply.”

  “I couldn't agree more. Given your current situation, I’ll have to be more lenient with you, so the rules are negotiable. I just need to know your soft and hard limits.”

  It turns out she only has one limit: All forms of sex including oral, anal, and vaginal. However, as a compromise, she agrees to perform acts of self-gratification and self-masturbation to the point of orgasm at my sole command. I sacrifice fucking her, but I nearly come in my pants when she bites down on that suckable bottom lip and tells me she’s willing to accept any punishment, no matter how severe. She has me hook, line, and fucking sinker and I must have her. I will have her.

  “I like pain, remember?”

  Damn, I’m sure she’s over-exaggerating, but I cannot wait to test this little theory of hers and push her limits. I tap my finger on my desk in anticipation while she swipes the pen across the dotted line, signing the contract and relax when it’s handed back to me, then securely locked in my desk. I slide her the submissive package my legal team also suggested I create.

  “Inside, you will find a phone and a laptop. They’ve been modified so not to leave web-prints or phone records. Use only these devices when contacting me.”

  “Isn't that kind of extreme?”

  “Call me crazy. On second thought, do not call me crazy,” I tell her.

  “I understand.” She smiles as she takes the items.

  “You do realize that even with the best precautions, there’s always a chance your boyfriend will find out what you're doing before you're ready to bring him in? How do you plan on explaining your absence to him when you and I are training together? Surely, he won’t buy the out with friends or working late excuses for long? If he finds out, on his own, he won’t understand. He’ll see it as betrayal.”

  “You needn’t worry. My boyfriend works evenings and weekends, so I’m available any days, but Tuesdays and Wednesdays, unless he gets called in. He works a lot.”

  “Ah, so you’re feeling neglected by him?”

  “Of course not. But like me, he has a very demanding job. We knew that about each other when we met. So, it won’t really be all that difficult to slip away unnoticed. I can give you times I’m available to match up with your schedule if you like?”

  “You’ve worked it all out, haven’t you?”

  “I have. I’m very thorough in my planning. Besides, we won’t be doing this without him for long anyway, right?”

  Purposely ignoring her question, I rise from my chair.

  “The cutting has to stop. As your Dom, I am the one who controls your pleasure and your pain. And to be perfectly honest, I am unhappy with the idea of you cutting and scarring that beautiful body of yours. Strip for me, let me see you.”

  “I’m sorry, but… why?”

  “Do not question me.” The tone of my voice makes her jump. “As your Dom, I give the orders and I expect for you to follow them, quickly and without hesitation. Now, take off your clothes.”

  “Jeez, I pick today of all days to wear my granny panties,” she whispers, kicking off her heels and slowly strips out of her skirt and blouse. She looks up at me in question, hesitating to take off her bra and panties. My silence is all the answer she needs and she slowly takes them off.

  She is standing in front of me naked, exposed, vulnerable, and completely at my mercy as I walk around inspecting every inch of her hot body.

  “Hands at your side.”

  “Sorry,” she says as she obeys, immediately unfolding her arms and uncovering her belly, showing the small pale scars from her cutting. I try not to show my anger as I see fresh ones like she’s cut herself today. It actually doesn’t look too deep. With time, the scars should disappear, but she must stop cutting in order for that to happen. I stand behind her to hide my rock-hard erection because even with those scars, she is by far the most breathtaking woman I have ever seen. I lean down to whisper in her ear a
nd I feel her breathing accelerate as her body responds to my closeness.

  You see? Your body already knows who you belong to and I will be the one to fuck you into an orgasm, Miss Turner. You won't even see me coming for you.

  “From this moment on, if at any time I see that you have cut yourself, our arrangement will be terminated immediately—do you understand?”

  “Yes,” she says softly, and I can’t resist smacking that tight ass so hard that she jumps. She inhales sharply.

  Was that a moan? Fuuuuck.

  “Yes, what?” Mmmm, say it.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good girl,” I whisper. “You may get dressed and leave now.”

  “Wha… Really?”

  Yes, leave. Now, before I have that naked ass bent over my desk.

  She quickly dresses and makes her way to the door.

  “One other thing, if ever we cross paths out in public again, you will not look at me, or react to me in any way unless I give you permission to do so, is that clear?”

  “What about with Allie and Aaron? I’m sure we’ll both eventually have to socialize with them around.”

  “Well, I won’t tell them what we’re up to if you won’t.”

  “No, sir,” she says and gives me a questioning look.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be just as discrete if I ever cross path with you and your boyfriend. We wouldn’t want him finding us out before you’re ready now would we,” I ask her and she nods her head. I can’t help but smirk at her. “Have a good evening. I’ll be in touch. If at any time you need to reach me, remember to use your new laptop or phone,” I say to her.

  The door closes and I exhale the constant breath I was holding, only to inhale the soft scent she left in her wake.

  Jesus, what have I just got myself into?

  Chapter Eleven

  Downtown Los Angeles

  Sage Turner’s Loft

  Sage Turner

  As I arrive back at my apartment, I pause at the front door, even though I know JR is at work. I still feel terribly guilty about where I've been and what I've agreed to. The fact that I liked standing there naked in front of Mr. Wade really makes me feel like shit. When I read the note JR left on the kitchen counter, I nearly cry from shame.