Obsessive Surrender

by Bobbi Cole Meyer

  When he was satisfied the water temperature was perfect, he pulled Andrea into the stall with him. While they were being peppered from all sides from the myriad of Koehler shower jets, he turned her so her back was to him, encircling her with his arms while he playfully rubbed his rigid cock against her.

  Andrea molded herself compliantly against him, loving his strong hands moving seductively over her breasts.

  “You remind me of a fragile flower just beginning to bud, Andrea. Fucking is like the rain to you, bringing you to full bloom. Watching the process excites me more than I believed it could. We just might screw ourselves to death, my pet,” he teased as he began soaping every bit of her, slowly, erotically, his hands lingering long at lathering her breasts, her hips, anus and abdomen, his fingers delving seductively into each crevice. Then he handed her the soap.

  “Your turn.”

  Andrea obliged him in the same erotic way, paying extra attention to his cock and balls, delighting in the surprised grunt she solicited from him as her fingers delved into his anus for a change.

  After they had rinsed, without his telling her to, Andrea knelt before him and began licking, sucking and caressing his granite hard penis until Ivan pulled her to her feet, demanding, “Say what you want, Andrea.”

  “I—I want you to make love to me, Ivan.”

  “Make love?” He scoffed. “There’s a difference between making love and fucking. When I hear ‘make love’ I think of gentle, old-fashioned missionary humping. Is that what you want, Andrea? Or do you want a sound fucking?”

  Andrea exhaled an excited breath, forcing herself to say that word she had always thought of as derogative, but now seemed to fit the occasion.

  “All right then. I want you to soundly fuck me, Ivan.”

  Laughing, he positioned himself on the shower seat, pulling her forward and down, her folded legs on either side of him. He lifted and impaled her while she clung to him, head thrust back, eyes closed to the pelting spray, silently mouthing ‘yes, yes’ as the water sluiced over them, as Ivan gripped her hips, lifting and bringing her down on him, his strong arms lending her complete support as though she weighed nothing, taking them beyond the lovemaking point over the pinnacle of erotic release.

  Chapter 9

  The Revelation

  Her second week in the room, Andrea had settled into an erotically sensual routine. True to her word, though the door was never locked, she made no attempt to leave, having both accepted and delighting in the knowledge she had learned how to pleasure her husband completely. And in turn, she had come to terms with the extremes of her own sexuality.

  So far as she knew she had only displeased Ivan once, that day when she’d demanded to know if he had forgotten her when he was so late in returning. Since then she was certain she had done nothing but please him and, in turn, had pleased herself more than she believed possible.

  Every time Ivan entered the room, Andrea’s body ached for him, for the release only he knew how to give her. The only thing that saddened her was knowing Ivan did not love her as she loved him and she had admitted to herself that she was madly in love with him.

  What Andrea wanted above all else, was to hear Ivan say he loved her, too, and to know he truly meant it.

  Wandering to the vanity, she sat studying her reflection, amazed that she could still look like the ‘before Ivan self’ with whom she no longer identified.

  How can I possibly look the same when I feel so different?

  She touched her sensitive breasts and shivered, recalling the tweezer clamps and how they had enhanced their lovemaking.

  Without a doubt, Ivan had taught her to appreciate every tremor her body experienced. She closed her eyes sighing, glancing longingly at the door.

  Where is Ivan? What’s he doing? Is he thinking of me? I wish he’d return.

  A wet seepage escaped her as memories of those torrid moments of climax dominated her senses.

  It was midday. She hadn’t seen Ivan since very early and even though her stomach rumbled slightly with hunger, it was the mounting hunger inside Andrea’s psyche that surged in insistent lapping, sensual waves as she recalled the torturous ecstasy her husband could so effectively orchestrate.

  Thinking of that, with those lustful cravings increasing, Andrea cast a hungry eye toward the row of phalluses, wondering if perhaps they would serve as well in the vagina.

  She recognized the way they were situated on the bench, that it would be a challenge, but she decided to try. She forgot about the cameras as she pondered how to quench her increasing sexual thirst. She decided that by spreading her legs in an awkward, splayed position, she could straddle and insert the larger apparatus at the end of the bench, but she discovered that riding the stationary phallus was irritating and far from being satisfying, so she withdrew in disgust and went back to flop on the bed, frustrated.

  In the downstairs office, watching Andrea’s futile attempts to satisfy herself, Ivan grinned at the monitor.

  “Not the same, is it, my pet? There is no feel of real flesh pounding into you, no hot exchange of fluids, no bruising clashes to tantalize and torment that pulsating little clit. No hand to spank that bottom. You are as addicted to all that now as I knew you would be.”

  Hardening at the thought of what waited for him, Ivan made one more quick business call then retrieved the phallic vibrator he had purchased with Andrea in mind and headed for the indoctrination room.

  When he entered, his excitement was enhanced by the way Andrea sat up in quick anticipation, her nipples at attention, her mouth open, her tongue slipping across her teeth as though she already tasted her treat. Then she surprised him by crossing the room quickly to unbutton his shirt, opening it and kissing his chest as she unzipped his trousers, her lips sliding seductively down his body.

  Ivan tossed the shirt aside. He stepped out of his trousers and boxers as she pushed at them, anxious to free his penis as she knelt before him. Her hands reached to cup and fondle his balls while Ivan stood spread-legged, allowing her free access, delighting in the way she was taking the initiative.

  He drew a satisfied breath as she took him in her mouth. Then, releasing him, her tongue flicked back and forth across the ridged underbelly of his shaft, a tantalizing gesture that almost unmanned Ivan.

  “Whew, take it easy, babe. Slow down,” he urged.

  But Andrea didn’t want to slow down. She liked feeling Ivan shudder under her ministrations. It thrilled her to know she held at least this small amount of power over the man who held undeniable sway over her, so she ignored his plea and was sucking so hard on his penis that when he pulled her away, the extraction made a popping sound, soliciting Ivan’s laugh as he guided her toward the bed.

  He flipped her over, hefted her up on her hands and knees and scooped her own lubricant from her wet sex as he had that first day. He rubbed it into the pink anus thrust so invitingly, splaying open, contracting expectedly and inviting, then inserted a finger.

  “Soon, my pet, I shall use that delectable back door.”

  He switched on the phallic vibrator and submerged it simultaneously in her welcoming vagina as he fingered her anus.

  Andrea moaned with pleasure.

  “How do you like having both holes filled, my pet?”

  “Feels strange, but I like it.”

  “I aim to please, my insatiable pet, but I want to be able to see you as you climax. I love watching that look of rapture spread over your face.”

  Ivan gave her butt a playful slap before flipping her over and replacing the vibrator with his penis, enthralled with her glazed expression.

  “God, you’re sexy when you’re fucking, Andrea,” he declared as they melded in a familiar rocking rhythm. He teased her by nearly withdrawing then sliding back in; delighting in the way her hot, wet channel clutched his shaft as tightly as a hand would and as usual, when he knew she was on the verge, he gave her the spank he knew she craved, clasping her to him in a viselike grip, breathing hard as he emp
tied his seed.

  When he exited and rolled to her side, he released a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding, “Whew!”

  Andrea rose to go to the bathroom, rubbing her reddened bottom, flashing him a seductive smile over her shoulder, mouthing the word ‘ouch’.

  Ivan watched her, smiling, reveling in the fact that she now seemed comfortable in her own skin and eager to participate in whatever sex games he devised.

  She’s no longer the inexperienced girl I married. Now she’s a woman who knows what she wants.

  As that truth dawned on him, Ivan’s smile was replaced by a frown as he realized things had begun to change between them. He could feel the power shifting.

  I chose Andrea because I wanted to possess, teach and control a virgin, to experiment with sexual subjugation while molding a girl into a woman, something I’d fantasized about for years. The goal was to make her my prize to be exhibited, but dammit, I meant to always have the upper hand.

  Ivan realized that somewhere along the line he had moved beyond his initial, pragmatic goal. He didn’t really know when it had happened, and the realization that it had shocked him.

  Good God, I’m beginning to fall in love with Andrea. That’s something I certainly hadn’t counted on, and it’s absolutely something I will never admit to her. I’ll never give her that kind of power over me.

  When Andrea returned to the bed, his eyes locked on hers Searching her face, Ivan read her knowing expression, recognizing it as woman-wise, seeing for the first time that she was entering into that nebulous realm where worldly-acclimated women became dominant.

  He effectively masked his concerns as Andrea lay down and snuggled confidently against his shoulder. He rolled her breasts beneath his hands absentmindedly, his mind in turmoil.

  For the first time in his life Ivan was in silent awe of his own convoluted emotions. He’d never been in love before and he didn’t like feeling that vulnerable. He had sworn never to allow himself to be conquered by that weakness and his mind jumped to the comparison of Richard, his father’s ingratiating himself to his mother in the beginning, slowly and surely disappearing each year until he became nothing more than an insignificant appendage at the last.

  Richard’s downfall started just like this! This was how his mother, Claudia, gained such a hold over him, so I sure as hell can’t let Andrea know she’s getting to me to that extent.

  Ivan’s photographic memory began tossing scenarios from his past like lobbed grenades. He suddenly heard those heated conversations between his mother, Claudia and his father, Richard, and scenes of Richard with his head in his hands after one of their fights when Claudia had verbally eviscerated him came back in vivid recall. Followed by the last days of Richard’s life when he’d looked haggard; when it was obvious he had relinquished the right to be called man of the house, or even a man at all.

  Dammit to hell, that’s what a cunning, manipulative woman can do to a man if he lets her!

  Ivan glanced at his wife, gritting his teeth.

  Even a novice like Andrea, once she becomes aware of that kind of power, can use that to her advantage. And if I lose control in my own home…!

  His heart hammered erratically with the unfinished thought of that potential consequence.

  Well, hell, I just won’t let that happen.

  Ivan’s expression hardened as Andrea sighed contentedly and snuggled into him. He lay hounded by vivid memories, as though all doors within his subconscious had been opened.

  Tired, he closed his eyes, thinking just to rest, and slipped into a troubled sleep, where those past images became a revolving show, complete with a cacophony of mocking sounds that his dream, six-year-old persona could not quite comprehend as he listened to his parents’ raised voices.

  He didn’t know why they were fighting, only that they were. They did that a lot. He stood uncertainly before their partially opened door, afraid to look in but too curious not to as he heard his mother’s high pitched voice saying hurtful, mean things to his father and he saw her slap him.

  Ivan awoke with a start. The dream shattered but the memory remained and he laid recalling the actual incident—his father turning away without responding and his mother calling him back to her. He remembered thinking at that moment that surely his father would not go near her, but he did.

  Wishing that memory wasn’t imbedded in his psyche, Ivan reheard her words all the year in between had not erased.

  “Beg me for forgiveness, Richard, and if you’re a good boy, you will be rewarded. How about you get on your knees?”

  Ivan remembered watching his father kneel before her and clasp her legs as she said, “Tell me what you want, Richard. Beg me for it.”

  Shaking his head, Ivan recalled how he had turned away at that point and ran back down the hallway and down the stairs, feeling sorry for his father, but not really understanding what it all meant, only knowing the way his mother treated him wasn’t right.

  Too awake now to sleep, Ivan’s mind took him back to when he was seven. He remembered being a very serious seven; frowning a lot because of the many things he didn't want to remember that stayed locked in his mind. All those strange, conflicting images of what he knew should have remained private between his mother and father when they weren’t aware he was watching, or didn’t seem to care that he was, kept emerging to torment him, mostly at night when he tried to sleep.

  By then he had begun to dislike his mother and felt guilty about that because she was his mother and he felt he was supposed to love her but then again, he wondered why she didn’t seem to love him very much.

  Thinking back over all that time, Ivan remembered knowing that things were best when he stayed out of his mother’s way; when he obeyed the nannies and caused no trouble whatsoever. So that was what he tried to do.

  The floodgate of memories opened, Ivan laid thinking of how much he had hated that his life was different from anybody he knew at school. No one else had bodyguards who drove them to school and stood around watching all day. No one else was as rich as they were. Even at that young age, he had figured that out and he hated being rich because it made the other kids make fun of him.

  But most of all, he hated the way things lodged in his mind and wouldn't go away. Everything! Bits and pieces of conversations and the way people looked when they talked even. He even remembered his classmates and his teachers telling him his mother was very beautiful. People were always telling him that. But when he looked at Claudia, as he had silently begun to call her by then, he saw ugly.

  Raking a hand through his hair, Ivan’s memories shifted to when he was eight and overheard his mother and father arguing all the way to Myerson Manor where his grandparents lived.

  He recalled when the maid showed them into the living room, his Granddad Cyrus telling them, “Sit down. I called you all here as a family to announce that I have changed my will.”

  Ivan would never forget that scene. As though it had happened yesterday, he saw his mother’s incredulous glare as Granddad Cyrus said, “Because you, Claudia, are our only child, I have meticulously groomed you to one day take over Myerson Oil and all its many subsidiaries, but that scenario has changed since Ivan has come into the picture.

  “Being the firstborn male grandchild, Ivan, I now consider you the rightful successor. Therefore, I am revising my will to that effect, leaving controlling interest of all Myerson interests to you, Ivan, upon your reaching the age of maturity. If, through my untimely death, you should become successor to the company before your graduation from college, your mother will supervise your actions.

  “In my opinion, a man naturally has more business acuity than a woman, Ivan, so I want you to understand you are going to be handed a grave responsibility when I either decide to retire or die, because Myerson Oil is one of the most influential corporations in the United States with vast internationals holdings, as well. It is your duty to study hard, make the best grades throughout school and college and be ready to step into my shoes
when the time comes.”

  His mother’s startled response came to Ivan’s mind as clearly as though she had just spoken it.

  “But father, surely you realize how qualified I am to run the company. It is second nature to me now, with all your instructions over the years.”

  “Good. Then you can pass all that knowledge along to your son so he will be equally as qualified. We all have a part to play, Claudia. Even you, Richard. You can impart your—ah—gift for unobtrusive observation, which you have definitely mastered.

  “And you, Ivan, it is imperative that you realize Myerson Oil is your birthright; that you must shoulder the responsibility handed down to you and continue to contribute to the Myerson legacy. It is a privilege you must grow into, and should be the center of your attention as you mature, which is why I am approaching you now since you have become of an age when you can appreciate the significance of your place in society. My boy, you are the heir apparent. Do you understand?”

  I didn’t, but God, I was too afraid to admit that to him. What I did understand was the way Claudia was glaring at me like she hated my guts and Richard just sitting there with that funny, resigned look on his face as usual.

  Ivan recalled the way his Granddad Cyrus had slapped him on the shoulder, taking his silence as acquiescence to his demands and exclaiming, “Good boy!”

  Relentlessly, Ivan’s thoughts wandered back to when he was ten, the year everything took another paradigm shift—the year his brother was born.

  He remembered there was a lot of activity that night; nurses and doctors coming and going in that room that had been prepared for Claudia because she was having a baby. He remembered asking his father, “Why isn’t Mother going to the hospital? I thought babies were supposed to be born in a hospital.”

  And Richard saying, “Because Claudia doesn’t like hospitals and she wanted to stay at home so that’s why we, more or less, have brought the hospital to us.”