by Brook Wilder
"What do we say when we want to slow down?" he asked huskily.
"Yellow," I replied.
"And what do we ask when we want to stop?"
"Red"
"Good girl."
He sat up slightly and pulled me up into a sitting position. I felt his chest press against mine as he freed my hands. He then shoved me back down into the bed and tied my arms up like he had tied my legs. I didn't know how much longer I could last, the anticipation was killing me. It felt like every nerve in my body was wound tighter than a guitar string, and I could feel all the adrenaline from my 'abduction' still coursing through me. I was still clothed despite my bound state, and I wondered what Garrett's plan was. I heard him walk away and soon after the rustle of clothing told me he was undressing. I also heard the rip of what I presumed was a condom wrapper.
It was silence after that, which made it all the more surprising when I suddenly felt a hand at my throat. I felt his large hand wrap almost completely around my neck, and his fingers flexed as he tightened his grip. I gasped at the force, a strangled noise escaping my mouth. Though he wasn't bearing down enough to actually choke me, it was still uncomfortable. With his free hand, Garrett started ripping my clothes away from me, piece by piece. First, my shirt, then my bra came away with the sound of tearing the fabric. I struggled a little and made a couple of noises of displeasure, which only caused his grip on my throat to tighten.
When he reached my jeans, he took his hand off my neck to wrench them off of my body. I yelped in pain as his fingernails scraped down the flesh of my legs. The jeans didn't tear nearly as well as the rest of my clothing, so Garrett was forced to untie my legs to remove them. Just for fun, I kicked my legs in resistance as soon as he untied them, making it all the more difficult to pull my jeans off. He growled at me before twisting my body around and giving me a sharp smack on my behind. Both pain and warmth blossomed from where he'd hit me, but it felt good in a strange way. I stilled my legs and let him pull the rest of my clothes off of me before roughly tying my legs back in place.
Almost as soon as I felt his hand retreat from my left ankle, the mattress buckled slightly as Garrett climbed back on. His hand went to my throat again, but this time he used it to push my chin to the side, exposing my neck. He began to suck on the skin at first, and I let out a small moan of pleasure. I then felt the nip of his teeth as he bit down on my skin, each bite becoming successively harder, and I knew that when we were done I'd have a trail of marks up and down my neck. It felt so good, but a small voice in the back of my mind lamented at the physical evidence of our lovemaking. That was the point, though, I realized. Garrett was marking me as his so that when I looked in the mirror tomorrow, I'd remember who I belonged to. The thought sent shivers down my spine, and I felt a small gush of wetness fall out of me. I was his, and that thought alone brought me all the closer to orgasm.
Once he was pleased with his work, I felt him pull away from me with a small grunt. From what I could tell, he was now kneeling in the space between my legs, and it wasn't long before I felt his hand roughly pushing my thighs further apart.
"Are you enjoying this?" Garrett asked, his voice raspy.
"No! Stop, please!" I yelled, doing my best to channel my part in the role play. "You're hurting me!"
"I can tell you're lying to me, you slut," he growled back.
I felt his hands dip into me, his fingers lightly teasing the soft flesh of my opening. I gasped at the sudden touch, and immediately knew why he said I was lying. I was wetter than I had ever been before in my life. I then felt his slick fingers on my lips and him pushing to enter my mouth. I clamped my lips shut at first before his other hand pulled my jaw open. He ran his fingers, covered in my wetness, down my tongue leaving a slimy and vaguely salty flavor.
"If you liked that," he said. "You'll like this even more!"
Without warning, I felt him ram into me with surprising force. It sent a bolt of pleasure through me along with pain, and I cried out hoarsely.
"Keep quiet!" Garrett hissed, "Or I'll give you something to yell about."
I clamped my mouth shut and tensed my muscles, preparing for the next thrust. It came with even more force than before, and I let out a muffled scream. Every time our pelvises met, the rest of my skeleton rattled in response, and I learned quickly to keep my jaw clenched tight after the first time my teeth chattered together. It was like I was being shaken loose by a hurricane. As Garrett kept slamming into me, I tried to readjust my positioning to make the assault a little more comfortable. Garrett had tied me up, but the restraints were loose enough to allow for a little bit of movement. It was an eerie sensation, though, knowing that there was little I could do to physically stop him as he glided in and out of me. One thing I knew for certain, though, was that my head was inching closer to the headboard with each thrust.
"You like this, don't you," Garrett growled as he moved.
"No!" I whimpered. It was becoming progressively more difficult to stay in character, due both to the pain and the intense pleasure I was feeling. "No. Please!"
"I saw the way you were walking down the street," he said as his hand started to yank on my hair. "You were practically begging for it!"
His movements were getting rougher, more erratic, and I felt my pleasure ebbing away from me slightly. The first time my head made contact with the bed, I cried out in pain. This wasn't pleasant at all anymore, and I needed Garrett to slow down. I couldn't see his face, but I could tell by his raspy breath that he was really into this. Doubt began to creep back into my mind. Would he be able to stop himself if I asked? I decided it was time to find out.
"Yellow!" I called breathlessly once the top of my head met the headboard for the second time.
For a split second, I feared that Garrett wouldn't listen to me, that he would just keep battering me into the headboard. Thankfully, though, he seemed to recognize what the problem was with a word on my part. I felt his arms thread beneath me and wrap over my shoulders, pulling me down the bed.
"Good?" he asked.
"Yes," I replied.
It was like we were on a movie set and the director had just yelled action. Garrett started in right where he left off only this time, he was using his arms to pull me into him as he thrust, effectively keeping me from crashing into the headboard.
This time, when his pace kept increasing, everything felt amazing. The rope was starting to rub on my wrist and I could feel Garrett's hands pulling my hair back and forcing my neck to arch backward, but all the pain and discomfort seemed to add to wave of pleasure cresting within me.
"You are such a dirty girl! Don't you agree?" Garrett exclaimed, accentuating his strokes.
I moaned in reply, my brain unable to keep up our little pretense any longer.
"That's not an answer!" Garrett yelled. "I want you to say it!"
"I'm…" I said breathlessly, almost unable to get the word out.
"Say it!"
"I'm a dirty girl!" I cried.
With one last thrust, Garrett screamed out in ecstasy. His body quivered and rubbed against me, which was all I needed now to go careening over the edge as well. My whole body shuddered and clenched as stars bloomed in the blackness of my blindfold. My mind spun away from me as I relished the release. All of my fear and stress melted away from me, and I felt more relaxed that I had in my adult life. Time seemed to stop and it may as well have been days before I returned back to myself. It was, singularly, the best orgasm I had ever experienced and I knew then that I could never go back to plain, boring sex ever again.
The blindfold suddenly came off, and I was staring up at a sweaty and disheveled Garrett. He was lying on top of me and using his elbows to prop himself up. There wasn't a trace of anger or malice in his eyes. Instead, he gazed adoringly down at me, his hand lazily stroking my hair. I looked back at him, this man who I'd placed such trust in, and smiled.
As if on cue, he scooped my head up to his and began to kiss me passionately. There was no for
mality or pretense, just his warm, rough lips on mine and his dexterous tongue dancing around my mouth. I kissed him back heartily and it felt like heaven.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The kiss went on for what seemed like an eternity. It was like reality melted around me and all that mattered was the way our tongues danced around each other. I even loved the way Garrett's beard scratched against my chin. I felt a small pang of sadness when Garrett pulled his face away from mine and gave me a slight grin. As far as first kisses went, this was one would be hard to top.
After giving me one more small peck on the cheek, he went about the business of untying my hands and feet, making sure to lay a soft kiss on each of my limbs as he worked. His touch was delicate as he made quick work of the secure knots. I stretched as each limb was freed; reveling in how good it felt to have control over my body again. The post-sex glow was starting to wear off, and I was now very aware of how raw my wrists and ankles felt. Although the rope was smooth to the touch, it still had managed to raise a couple of blisters, particularly on my right wrist. I hissed a little as I examined my wounds, wondering how long I'd be left with these marks. Thin, red lines that were hot to the touch circled my wrists and ankles, and there were several small, raised bumps dotting the inflamed areas.
Seeing my concern, Garrett pulled my wrist to him to take a look himself. He clicked his tongue and got up from the bed, heading to the closet beside the door. He pulled out two cotton robes and tossed one to me as he donned the other one. He also pulled out a large, black duffel bag before closing the closet door and returning to the bed.
"Let me see your wrist again," he said as he opened the bag.
I craned my neck and saw quite a lot of useful items in that bag. He pulled out a small first aid kit, but I also spotted a couple of bottles of Gatorade, a blanket, and a couple of those chemical ice packs that don't require freezing. He certainly did come prepared. He poked at my right wrist a little before pulling out some Neosporin and a can that, when he sprayed it on my wrist, instantly cooled my skin. Once the pain had subsided, he bandaged me up and looked over my other wrist and my ankles.
"Those will feel raw for a few days, but the blisters should go away fairly quickly. Just make sure you don't poke at them too much, or they'll get infected," he said, his eyes full of genuine concern. "Is anything else sore?"
"My head hurts," I said, "from bumping it on the bed. I think I feel a knot back there."
"You don't feel dizzy, do you?" he asked. "Or nauseous?"
"No, I don't think so," I said, worry creeping into my voice. "Just a little headache. Why?"
"I just want to rule out a concussion. I didn't think you'd hit your head that hard, but you never know. I'm sorry about that, by the way. I'm glad you stopped me."
He pulled out an ice pack before shoving the bag to the side of the bed. After he'd activated it, he handed the pack to me and I gingerly placed it on the sore spot on the top of my head. I thought back to the moment, realizing that I'd placed a lot of trust in Garrett during this whole escapade. I'd had no reason to believe that he would stop if I asked, only my blind faith in his promise that he would. Garrett Rutherford could have exploited me at any point during this afternoon, and yet he didn't.
I looked over at him, his attention now turned to the pay per view channel on the television, and I let my eyes lazily take in his profile. His hair was an absolute mess and I could still see beads of sweat clinging to the sides of his face still red from our romp. His expression was completely relaxed, and I could that he'd thoroughly enjoyed himself. I let myself get lost staring at him, and jumped slightly when he turned back to me. A small smile formed on his lips as he caught my gaze.
"What do you say we watch a movie?" he asked. "I just chose something at random, but we can watch something specific if you prefer. I'd suggest going out on the town, but I can tell we'd both rather spend the night in."
I didn't reply, only staring at him in shock. I wracked my brain and realized that this was one of the first times Garrett had actively asked my preference for something. It seemed like a silly thing, something that would happen every day in a normal relationship, but this was a big moment for us. It made my heart swell with happiness and that, combined with all the leftover anxiety and excitement from the scene we had just enacted, made me burst into tears. I saw his face fall as he drew me into his arms. One of his hands went to stroke my hair.
"Shhh," he said as he hugged me tightly, "It's alright."
"I'm… sorry…" I said as I sobbed lightly. "I don't know why…"
"Don't worry about it," he replied. "It happens sometimes to submissives after intense scenes. A lot of intense emotions can build up, and they just have to be let out. Here, let's lay back and watch the movie. You'll feel better in a bit."
He was right, but I never really watched whatever he'd put on the television. I let the sound wash over me as I laid my head onto his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath. Pressed against his warm, comforting body, my sobbing subsided almost immediately and my tears dried up shortly after. By the time the movie had ended, I had dozed off in his arms.
"Laina," Garrett said, gently shaking me awake.
"Hmmm?" I said as I opened my eyes.
"Let's order some room service," he said. My stomach growled as soon as those words left his lips. "Here's the menu, why don't you decide? If nothing looks appetizing, we can find a takeout menu."
"Are you sure?" I asked hesitantly, and he chuckled.
"Yes, but don't get used to it," he said in a mock serious tone. "I'm trying to let go of some control for you, Laina. Am I right in thinking that it'll make you happier if I let you have some facility in this relationship?"
"Actually, yes," I said.
"Good," he replied. "What are we having? I've never stayed here before, so, unfortunately, I can't recommend anything."
I looked over the menu and ended up choosing cheeseburgers, some fries, and sodas for both of us. Pretty boring, but after the excitement I'd already experienced, boring was just fine by me. Garrett, who was also quite pleased with my choice, made the call as I tidied up the room a little. Once he hung up the phone, we both flopped back down on the bed and waited for the food to arrive.
"Do you do this all the time?" I asked as he draped his arm over my shoulders.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"This," I said, "the first aid stuff, holding me, is this normal for our type of relationship?"
"Yes, for the most part. What we're doing called aftercare, and is an important part of a long term dominant-submissive relationship," he replied. "Though this is more intimate and detailed than usual for me. A lot of times I just check in with the submissive to make sure they're feeling ok and that's it."
"Is that because I'm inexperienced?"
"That, and I want a deeper relationship between us than I have had with other subs in the past. More of a romance and less of a one night stand feel."
"Are you," I said, my voice faltering. I cleared my voice and continued. "Are you seeing anyone else, besides me?"
"Not currently," Garrett said "but I've never been one to feel truly satisfied in a monogamous relationship. Would it bother you if I did see other people?"
"A little, yes."
"You're a terrible liar, Laina," he chided. "I can tell it bothers you more than a little."
"It bothers me a lot, I guess," I replied, "but I've never even fathomed a relationship that wasn't monogamous. It's not that I'm trying to be close-minded…"
"Of course not," Garrett said. "I'm the exact opposite, though I have experienced exclusive relationships. It was ages ago, and never really left me fulfilled."
"Oh," was all I could manage in reply, despite the fact that there were a thousand thoughts buzzing around in my mind.
"How about this," Garrett said, turning to look me in the eyes, "For the time being, we'll stay exclusive to each other. After a couple of months, or longer if that's what you want, we can rev
isit the idea. This isn't a guarantee that we'll end up in an open relationship. You would certainly be my first priority no matter what, and I would dare do anything without talking to you first. I just want to keep some room for discussion, in case we run into something I want to try that you're vehemently opposed to."
"Sounds like a plan," I said, "and I promise to try and keep an open mind about it."
A sharp knock on the door signaled the arrival of our dinner, and Garrett hopped up to answer. He was back in seconds and set the tray down on the bed. The greasy, salty smell of the meal wafted up to my nose. It smelled heavenly, and my stomach began to rumble. We started to dig in without a word, and Garrett put another movie on the television. We spent the rest of the evening either watching movies or talking about nothing in particular, and a couple of hours later I felt my eyelids start to droop again.