by Somer Grey
Private number: Be on the couch tonight at six o'clock.
Me: Yes, Sir.
Private number: Fuck. Tonight, I make you mine.
Me: Promise? My pussy’s been hungry.
Private number: Don’t fucking touch! It’s mine. Be on couch at six o'clock. Wear a matching set of bra and panties. Match one of my ties and put it over your eyes.
Me: Do you have a color preference?
Private number: White would make you look like an angel sent to take me to heaven. Red or black would turn you into the she-devil herself, sent to take me straight to hell.
Me: Sooooo… do you want heaven or hell?
Private number: Surprise me—am so fucking hard right now. You pick the color. My dick will decide if we go to heaven or hell.
Me: I’ll be waiting for you—in hell.
Private number: Fuck! My decision, not yours. I promise when we’re done, you’ll be in fucking heaven and I’ll be sent to hell.
Holy shit. I didn’t know where I got the courage to respond like that. I didn’t know anything about the man I was provoking. I just knew that on Friday he gave me something I hadn’t realized I missed—the need to be wanted. I’d had urges in the past but nothing like the desire he awoke in me. Not only did my body feel alive, but for the first time ever, I felt alive.
At 5:50, I sat on the couch in my bra and panties, blindfolded with one of his ties. I tried on every set of undergarments in the drawer until I settled on a red silky G-string and a matching red low-cut satin bra trimmed in black lace. His tie was the perfect match, black silk with thick red lines cut at an angle. I didn’t want to be fucked like an angel. I wanted to be fucked like the she-devil forged in the fire by Satan himself, a man who could make me desperate with need with just his words.
The door opened, and his scent and presence filled the room. I heard his shoes against the wood floors, and then they stopped, and the only sound was our breathing, both deep and hard.
I smiled, sensing that he liked what he saw.
“Well, someone seems proud of her attire.” Desire and need saturated his voice.
“Does Sir like it?”
Footsteps slammed against the floor, and before I knew it, I was pinned between the couch and his hard body. His mouth covered mine as he sucked every breath out of me, leaving me gasping. Large hands held my wrists, his legs straddled mine, and his other hand grabbed and caressed my breasts. I wasn’t able to see, but fuck, I could feel his massive dick pressed against me. Each time his tongue swept through my mouth, his dick pushed harder against my clit. My body was no longer mine but his to play with as he pleased. I was nothing more than clay for his sculptor hands to mold.
“Fuck me,” he said, standing. Before I knew it, he picked me up and carried me to the bedroom. “Melissa, I said I wanted you to see me, to know who you were fucking before I took you.” He placed me on the bed and covered me with his body. Soft little kisses were placed all over me. “Don’t move.”
I didn’t care who he was at the moment; all I cared about was his cock. For all I knew, he was a serial killer, but as long as he fucked me before he killed me, at that moment, I didn’t care. “I don’t care who you are. Please touch me.”
His presence disappeared, and I immediately missed his weight pressed against me. The scent of his cologne surrounded me, and the sound of a crinkling bag alerted me to his return. My right arm was lifted and placed into a cloth loop and then the left, both secured to the bed frame. Sharp teeth scraped my skin as he nibbled my stomach. In a quick motion, I felt him grab my panties in his mouth and pull them down each leg slowly with soft kisses along the way. Then my legs were secured but spread-eagled instead of looped together. It made my need even stronger with no way to squeeze my thighs together. The bed dipped, and hands roamed up and down my body.
“I need to fuck you. I can’t wait any longer.”
Long fingers stroked me and pumped into me and then just stopped. Desperation for more made me beg. “More. Please.” I didn’t need to beg for long before he smashed into me with such force that I cried out.
“Sorry, baby.”
The pain turned to pleasure as he continued his delicious attack on my body. His dick was thick and filled me in ways I never knew were possible—the restraints were the only thing that kept me in place as he slammed into me. His mouth moved between my lips and breasts while his hands roamed my body. One soft touch before he squeezed every part of me. He drove me crazy, but it was his moans that pushed me over and made me come hard. Once he let out his final moan and shot his cum into me, exhaustion took over. As much as I wanted to see the man who rocked my world, learning his identity would have to wait until I was coherent again.
I don’t know how long I slept. But when I woke, my arms were still secured to the bed and my eyes were still covered with the blindfold. The only change was that while I slept, he’d unfastened my legs. My consciousness grew more acute as fingers brushed my skin, ever so lightly, leaving goose bumps in their wake.
“Morning, my sweet girl.”
“Morning.”
“I’ve decided to keep you tied up while we talk.” His fingers continued to trace every inch of me. “Melissa, regardless of your feelings, you’re mine for the next year. I can enforce the contract, including the companionship, but I want you to want to be here.”
His fingers moved from my breast to my hairline, and slowly he inched the tie off my eyes. My vision blurred. I blinked them into focus.
“What the fuck—why?” I pulled my arms and kicked my legs wildly. Fear and pain struck me. I felt nauseous. No, this couldn’t be true. He was—fucking hell. This wasn’t possible.
“Why? Why would you do this.” Tears ran down my face, hurt filled my heart. I just fucked Peyton Harrison, my mother’s best friend’s husband, a man twice my age. “Get the fuck off me. Get off. What the hell is wrong with you? Oh my God.”
“Melissa, I’m sure this is a shock.”
“Shock? You think this is a fucking shock? It’s more than a shock.” My legs kicked at him. “I just fucked you. Regina has been like an aunt to me, and I just fucked her husband.”
Anger overcame him. “I own you for the next year. I will fuck you when and where I want. I paid a lot of money for you. Hell, more than most. I don’t need to explain myself, but I will—this once—after you stop this fucking tantrum.”
“Fuck you! Untie me now. I—”
My sentence was cut off and my body flipped over. The next thing I felt was his hand smacking my bare ass over and over. My tears turned to screams as my ass burned. Finally, he shifted me to my side and pulled me into his embrace after the last slap. My back was to his front and his hard cock was pressed against my sore ass. I thought of his threat of fucking my ass after he beat it and tensed as I tried to move forward.
“I won’t fuck you again until you’re ready, but that doesn’t mean I won’t punish you for being disrespectful. YOU. ARE. MINE.”
“Why? Tell me why.” I’m not sure how he understood me through all the tears and bumbling.
“Rest now, and we’ll talk when you calm down.” His voice became soft and patient as he stroked my hair.
The next time I woke up, my arms were untied, and Peyton wasn’t in bed. His dress shirt was hanging over the chair, and I slipped it on before I went to find him. Slowly, I made my way through the apartment. I found him sitting at the dining room table with his computer opened and a cup of coffee. As pissed as I was, I still thought he looked hot as hell in his lounge pants and no shirt. I tried not to stare, but damn, without my knowing it, he’d wormed his way into my daily thoughts and fantasies since the first night he touched me.
“Morning. Would you like coffee?”
“Please.”
“Come sit with me, and we’ll talk.”
He went into the kitchen and brought a cup of coffee for me and refreshed his own. It didn’t take long for me to remember my sore ass when I sat on the hard cherry-wood chair.
Jumping up, I rubbed my ass.
“Melissa, I said to sit with me.”
“I would rather stand. Please?” I added the last part as I remembered his warning about being respectful.
He cocked his eye at me as a warning to obey.
I evened my tone, drawing out my request. “May we please sit on the couch?”
He snickered, nodded, and gestured for me to go first as he picked up our coffee mugs. I still needed to keep my distance from him. Therefore, I gingerly sat at one end of the couch as far away as possible. It still hurt to sit on the soft cushions, but not nearly as badly as it did on the wooden chair.
Peyton and I talked for a couple of hours. At first, he spoke, and I pretended to listen. I didn’t want to care what he had to say. However, the longer I sat there, the more things made sense. I wasn’t sure if I’d stopped pretending to hear or pretending not to listen because his words began to filter into me.
“Melissa, the first time I saw you, I didn’t know who you were or that you were only sixteen. All I saw was a wild redhead who I wanted to tame. When I realized who you were, it was like a knife going through my heart.” He stopped and waited for a response.
I didn’t have one. I knew when we met that I felt something. I also knew that at the dinner the night after my graduation, there had been a connection. I thought what I’d felt was a kid with a crush on an older man. I didn’t want to admit that even though I hadn’t seen him since that dinner, I’d thought of him often. Taking my eyes away from my empty coffee mug, I glanced over and looked at him.
Really looked at him.
Our gazes met as I stared into the eyes I wanted to hate, but didn’t, into the eyes of the man who would probably ruin me. I replayed in my head the words he’d said. He wanted to tame the wild redheaded girl. He desired me. He needed to be with me. Never did I hear that he wanted me in his life, only that he fantasized about me in his bed.
I wondered if he’d still want me after I was tamed. I also wondered how long it would be until he was done taming me, and he moved on.
I knew if I continued this agreement, I would spend the rest of my life in lies and deceit. Holidays and birthdays with Regina would never be the same. Even though I rarely saw Peyton when Regina was around, I would know that she slept in his bed when he was home and that I slept with him when he wasn’t. Would I be able to handle his rejection at the end of our agreement? We both knew this couldn’t go further.
But in reality, none of that really mattered.
I’d signed an agreement, and he’d bought it. It was simple, despite how complex. Peyton owned me for the next year. As we spoke, I contemplated my option to break the NDA and tell my parents and Regina the truth, but what would that choice cost me? The other possibility was to live my life for me, go through with what I’d started, and finish the road I’d chosen to travel.
I hated the notion that deception and betrayals would take over my life, but in reality, hadn’t they already? From the time I received the first invitation to Infidelity, it was one lie after another. The charade he played pissed me off, yet I still felt something. For the first time in my life, I felt what it was like to live for me and not someone else’s expectations.
Unfortunately, I would find out soon enough that I still had expectations to live by, and despite my current sense of liberation, this path had never really been my decision.
Again, I glanced over and looked at him. As I did, I knew I wanted to experience more with him. I was livid with the situation, but with the way my body responded to him, my desires were stronger than my anger.
“Melissa, I knew it was wrong. Fuck, you were sixteen years old.” He shook his head. “I tried to forget you, but nothing worked. No matter how many people I fucked, all I saw was you.”
“What? What about Regina? Don’t you love her?”
“No.”
I had trouble understanding what he was saying. “Then why? Why would you marry her?”
“Regina and I have an arrangement. It has only been the last few years that she wanted a real marriage. She’s cheated on me as much as I’ve cheated on her. Hell, she probably still is. She’s probably with someone now.”
“Why stay married?” I asked earnestly.
“It’s a long story, but it’s fair to say that we use each other.”
Peyton and I talked the rest of the day. That night we went to bed without any physical contact. The next few days were much the same. Despite the lack of contact, we continued to talk while we walked along the paths through the park and Northwestern. Our conversations went in many different directions. He asked why I wanted to go Northwestern and what I wanted in the future. He listened. The only thing we didn’t talk about was him. He stayed attentive and caring but reserved.
The night before he left, I was reminded that this was an arrangement and certain expectations were my obligation to meet. When he called, I must answer. When he was in town, I was at his complete disposal. In the bedroom, I would be his submissive. Punishments for misbehavior would be enforced, and he would determine the severity. He owned me. I wasn’t allowed to flirt, tease, or date. The punishment for the latter would be accessed not only by him but also by Infidelity. My dismissal was just one aspect of a possible penalty. I wasn’t sure I liked the way that sounded, but it wasn’t like they could kill me.
Chapter 11
Following the Path
Melissa
The next few months were the best time of my life. Twice a week I attended classes at Northwestern and studied regularly to keep my grades up. Even though Infidelity guaranteed my acceptance, I wasn’t about to lose another scholarship. Peyton visited two to three days a week. Most of the time we were together was spent in the apartment. Once in a while, we went on walks or had a picnic by the lake, the basket filled with cheeses, fruits, crackers, and something sweet for dessert. A couple of times, Peyton slipped a cold bottle of wine in the basket to have with our lunch. It didn’t matter that I was only eighteen. All that mattered was the fun we had after I drank too much.
The sex between us was hot. Peyton enjoyed finding a reason to punish me, and I went out of my way for the punishment. His punishments took me to ecstasy. I learned the best way to incite his wrath was to send pictures of myself in lingerie. That was guaranteed to earn me a spanking by his magical hands.
“Lie across the bed. Five with my belt.”
He rarely used his belt, but when he did, I came harder than ever. Peyton never just slapped my ass when he punished; no, he’d rub his fingers through the crease of my ass and then dip his long digits into my pussy. He’d pump his fingers until I was dripping, then suck my juices off of them. “Fuck, you taste like heaven.”
One night, I lay naked on the bed, face down, with my wrists looped into the straps attached to the headboard and each leg shackled to the post of the footboard. Next, Peyton blindfolded my eyes with the mask before he licked up and down my body.
He had a plan. I just didn’t know what it was yet.
One minute it was his tongue, and the next, the sting of his belt. After three lashes with the belt, he licked the welts on my ass. God, as bad as the belt hurt, his touch and tongue made me crazy. Two more swats and I needed something to help ease the pressure in my pussy. Sometime during the exercise, I’d managed to bunch the sheets under me in a ball and pushed into them for a little friction. Since I’d heard padded footsteps head toward the bathroom, I pushed even harder into the sheets, thinking he wouldn’t see. My ass was already on fire when the whoosh of the belt came across my ass again.
Whack.
“Fuck.”
"Bad girls get punished, not rewarded. Did you think I didn't notice your pussy flexing and your ass squeezing together? Here your punishment was over, and now we have a whole other transgression. Naughty, naughty.” His tone was playful. “You tried to take my enjoyment away.”
"Please fuck me. My pussy is aching with need."
"Sunshine, there will be no reward for yo
u tonight. Maybe I'll leave you tied up all night, so you don't touch yourself. You need to learn your lesson."
"Peyton, please, I'll do anything, please."
"Anything, huh. How badly do you want to come?"
"I’ll do anything, please."
"Another punishment?"
"Yes! Yes! Whatever you want, just let me come." My body had more control over my mouth than my brain did. I didn’t think my ass would be able to take much more. I was ready to scream the safe word when he caressed me softly. He knew what he was doing. He would put me on edge to safe word him, and then pleasure me, so I wouldn’t. A chill from the air conditioning skirted across my skin, yet did nothing to cool the fire on my ass.
Peyton bent down. I couldn’t see him, but the peppermint breath said he was right in front of me. “I’ll let you choose your punishment, but once you’ve made a decision, it can’t be changed. Understood?”
“Yes.” Desire laced my voice. “Sir.” A hiccup bubbled out.
“Now your choices.”
“One. You lie here all night unsatisfied, and I pleasure myself. After I shoot my load all over your sexy-as-fuck body, your mouth will be filled with my dick to add to my pleasure, but you will not be allowed any relief.”
He ran his fingers up and down the crease of my ass and along what I assumed were welts from his belt. Slowly he slid a finger into me.
“Sweetheart, your pussy must really love my belt—you're wet as hell. And so is the sheet."
He was right. As bad as the belt hurt, I craved it.
“Two.”
“Please.” I wasn’t sure how much longer I would be able to go without relief.
“Two, I bend you over the bed, and spank your fine ass again. I’ll be generous since your ass is already welted from my belt. Three more with my belt and then ten with my hand.
“Two!” I wiggled and squirmed on the mattress, and his hand came down on my ass.
“Are you sure because I didn’t finish what that option two entailed.”