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Innocence Tempted (Generational Sins Series)

Page 7

by Samantha Blair


  My tears didn't bring her back that day, and they wouldn't have brought her back from the grave either. They didn't help, so I stopped shedding them.

  How did Cody know that?

  I was glad that I wasn't planning to see Cody for a couple of days as I wasn't really ready to face him just yet. I think I just needed some time to process my emotions. I just didn't quite know what to think or feel. I was confused and conflicted. I felt empty and vulnerable. My carefully crafted exterior had been breached, and I couldn't think of anything to do but sleep it off. I closed my eyes and found comfort in sleep.

  When the morning light filtered through my window I realized I was hungry. Really hungry. I had slept late, and it was nearly eleven in the morning. My dad had worked the late shift, but he would be up soon. I went downstairs and made a huge breakfast. When he came grumbling down a little while later, he gave me a questioning look. It was unlike me to make so much food. I just shrugged and said I was hungry. He let it go.

  My dad had the day off so we went down to the lake together to fish. As we sat shoulder to shoulder in comfortable silence, I began to feel better… about everything. We didn’t talk about Mom much, we never really had, but somehow he’d learned to live without her, and so had I. We were okay, just the two of us. Would he still be okay when I went away to school? That was how it worked, right? All little girls eventually had to grow up and spread their wings.

  I watched him cast a line with practiced ease and noticed for the first time how grey the hair at his temples had become. I wasn’t the only one who had aged. Massachusetts was a long way from Montana. What if something went wrong and he needed me? Or more likely, what if I needed him?

  “You okay, kiddo?” he asked, probably catching my worried expression.

  “Just thinking about leaving. It’s so far away.”

  “Yeah, but it’s Harvard. There’s only one, and it’s in New England.”

  I laughed. “This is true.”

  “I’m only a phone call away. The whole town is, really. You belong out there. You’ve worked your whole life for this.”

  “Do you think Mom would want me to go?” I asked out of the blue. “I mean she never put much stock in education.”

  He didn’t answer me right away, opting instead to bait his line again—despite the obvious fact that there was already a worm attached—and cast it back out into almost the same spot where it had just been.

  “Your mother didn’t always have her priorities in order, but yes, I think she would want you to go. She would want you to follow your heart and your dreams. She would be very proud of you, you know? You’ve accomplished things that she didn’t even dream of.”

  We both took a sudden interest in the splintering wood of the deck, unable to look at each other, unsure of what to say, until a fish caught my line and our attention.

  Without a job to occupy me, I spent a lot of time reading and preparing myself for my fall classes. I wasn't deluding myself into thinking that an Ivy League university would be anything like the prestigious Roundup High. I was counting on needing to work very hard. Getting ahead in my textbooks seemed like a wise idea. I had no plans to come home after the first semester with my tail between my legs.

  In six weeks my whole world would change. I wondered whom I would meet and what it would be like. I had known very little in my life but small towns, horses, and sports on TV. Many of my classmates would already have been to Europe or Asia. Would I feel lost?

  Who was I kidding? I already felt lost. And I wasn’t sure who I could talk to about it. How did you tell someone that you were afraid to fail at school or that you were horrified to discover that you hadn't even grieved for your own mother? I had already opened up so much to Cody. It felt like he knew more about me than anyone else ever had. How did that happen? I’d lived in this town my whole life, and all of a sudden everyone else felt like a stranger when compared with him.

  When I left for school would he just forget about me? He had certainly never promised me anything. I wasn't supposed to get attached. But still... how do you let someone do such intimate things to you and then not feel anything?

  My dad went back to work on Wednesday, and I went to see Cody. I wasn't going to deny that I was nervous. I hadn't known it when I left the other night, but it was obvious now that there was very little that was sexual about our last encounter. I couldn't see this as just sex any more.

  He was waiting for me in the kitchen like usual. "Good evening, Katlyn." I didn't respond. My breath was caught in my throat. "You okay?"

  "Yeah," I squeaked out. "Can um… can we talk?"

  "Of course. Let's sit in the living room. Is this about our last session?"

  "Yeah," I answered. We sat down on the couch together, and he faced me.

  "What do you want to know?"

  "Why? Why did you do that?"

  "Why did I force you to cry?" he clarified.

  I nodded.

  "As your Dominant, I am responsible for your physical and emotional well-being while you are with me. You have been experiencing a lot of physical things lately and those physical things should also be producing emotions."

  I nodded to show that I was still with him.

  "Being attacked in the woods is supposed to produce fear. Being punished is supposed to produce remorse followed by closure, allowing you to put the guilt behind you. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

  "Yes, but I did feel those things. I was afraid, at least a little, in the woods..."

  "That's good. It is. But, it's not enough. Your body was designed to feel certain things, to go through certain experiences. You're supposed to cry, Kat. Not all the time and not for no reason, but never is not healthy."

  "I don't quite know what to think about this crying thing. I get what you're saying, but now I just... I feel so empty," I admitted.

  "Good empty or bad empty?"

  "I'm not sure."

  "Do you remember a couple of weeks ago when I asked you why you wanted to be a submissive?"

  "Yes." I did remember. We had talked about my mother that day too. It seemed to be a recurring theme. I had mommy issues. Who knew?

  "You told me that you wished your life was more black and white. Do you remember that? Well, I can't make your life black and white, Kat, but I can help you to find physical closure for the things in your life that you have a hard time processing. I let you cry for your mother because no one else ever did."

  I swallowed hard. "I'm afraid," I whispered. "It makes me feel really exposed."

  "I'm really glad that you admitted that. Come here."

  I crawled into his open arms, and he tucked my head under his chin like a child. "You never have to be afraid with me, okay? I might have pushed you too hard before you were ready. This is not an exact science, and I can't know exactly what you need all the time unless you are capable of telling me. Okay?"

  I nodded. I wasn't blaming him. I was just... a little lost.

  "I can tell you this though," he continued. "It gets easier. In one night you pushed out ten years of repressed emotions. The next time you'll only be dealing with a couple of weeks maybe, if you don't wait too long."

  "That makes sense."

  "It's up to you where we go from here. If you need more time off, I'm cool with that. Or, if you want to get back on the horse we can do that too. I'm not going to push you to that same emotional level again, but a little bit of play might actually make you feel better."

  "I don't want to decide," I whispered. I was sure of that. I was having a hard enough time with this. I didn't want to choose.

  "Do you like cards?"

  "Cards?"

  "Yeah, cards, like poker?"

  "Sure," I answered. I wasn't great at it, but I'd played with my friends a couple of times.

  "Sit on the floor," he said, and then he went into the kitchen. He came back a moment later and joined me on the floor with a deck of cards. "We're going to play Acey Deucey. Do you know what that is?"
r />   "No." It wasn't one of the poker games that I had played before.

  "It's easy. I'm going to give you two cards face up. You tell me if the next card will fall between them or not. So if I deal a three and a queen the odds are good that the next card will be a four, five, six, all the way up to jack. Get it?"

  "Yeah. Doesn't sound too hard."

  "Right. So if you're right, we keep playing. If you're wrong, you strip."

  I smiled. "I would strip for you anyway."

  "I know," he said with that cocky smile that I had come to adore. "But this is black and white. You act, you face the consequences. Get it?"

  I did get it. I looked at him, really looked. He was smart, much smarter than I had originally given him credit for. Being a cowboy didn't make him seem particularly intelligent, but I really had to wonder if he had studied psychology at some point. He just got it.

  "Why did you become a rancher?" I blurted out.

  "Well that came out of left field,” he chuckled. “I like the fresh air and the physical nature of it." He paused with a wicked gleam in his eyes. "And I like taming horses into submission almost as much as I like taming women."

  I rolled my eyes.

  "Play the game, Katlyn. Inside or out?"

  "Inside, Sir." I was right... the first hand. It was the first time that I ever lost a game on purpose.

  Cody

  She was losing on purpose, and if she thought I wouldn't catch on, she was wrong. No girl who was capable of getting into Harvard was this bad at statistics.

  "You know, Katlyn, the point of this game is to try to keep your clothes on."

  She blushed. Busted.

  "It's not my fault that the cards aren't coming up in my favor. It's all chance anyway."

  "Uh huh." Fuck she was cute. I was glad to see her smile. She worried me when she came through the door saying that she wanted to talk. I knew that the last session had been particularly difficult for her. That was one of those times where safewords don't really help. It wasn't a physical issue, and safewords couldn't stop emotional outpourings.

  She seemed to be okay now though. I would take it easy with her for a while. Too much at once was a bad idea, but so was pretending that it didn't need to happen. These were the hardest decisions for me to make. The emotional care of a submissive was always harder than the physical care.

  I dealt her two more cards. Jack and six.

  "Inside," she said. I turned the card. King.

  "Panties," I said, holding my hand out for them. That was her last item of clothing. I was still in my jeans and boxers.

  I raked my eyes over her beautiful naked form. She was incredible. Brilliant. Sexy as hell. Submissive but not lacking in personality.

  I dealt for myself and was correct.

  "This time, if you're wrong, you have to play with your tits while I watch." I issued the dare and watched her reaction. She still blushed every time I said something really blatantly sexual to her. I hoped that she would never lose that reaction. It spoke volumes.

  She nodded her assent. I dealt. It was a tough one, ace-seven, she had to call the ace.

  "Ace high, inside," she said before taking her bottom lip between her teeth.

  I flipped the card. "Whew. Safe for now." I laughed. She looked disappointed.

  "You know, you don't have to wait for the cards," I teased. "If you want me to play with those pretty little tits all you have to do is ask."

  Her skin reddened all the way down over her collarbones to the tops of her breasts. She scooted closer to me.

  "Oh, no," I said, unable to keep the smile out of my voice. "You know better than that. You want something, you ask me for it."

  She pouted, actually pouted. I would never admit it out loud but it was fucking adorable. When she realized that I wouldn't give in, she did as I asked.

  "Please, Sir."

  "Please what, Katlyn?" She was crawling to me slowly on her hands and knees. I took in the gentle sway of her breasts, the curve of her hips.

  "Please touch me."

  I stretched my legs out on the floor in front of me and rested my back against the couch, opening up my posture for her. "Come straddle my legs."

  She did as I asked, her knees straddling my hips and her hot core pressed to the tops of my thighs. I skimmed my fingertips up over her hips and sides brushing the undersides of her breasts with my thumbs. She lifted her hands to touch me, but I shook my head. "Keep your hands behind your back."

  She obediently folded her hands behind her, elevating her chest and further offering me her rosy areolas. "Beautiful," I said softly. I pressed my lips to the hollow just above her collarbone, my tongue darting into the smooth cavern.

  I cupped her breasts more firmly, one in each hand, stimulating her nipples with my thumbs while I tested the weight and feel of them. I was definitely a boob man and hers were fucking fantastic.

  I leaned back a little more so that I could see her. Her eyes were closed, her lips gently parted. She fidgeted a little, not yet accustomed to the trained stillness required of a more experienced submissive. I pinched her nipples gently between my fingers, tugging at them, plucking them with increasing pressure. She let out a soft gasp but did not move.

  I cupped her full breasts in my palms again, pressing them together, squeezing them gently. I had been shamefully neglectful of this area of her body up to this point, and I wasn't sure just how sensitive she was. I returned to her nipples, enjoying how they hardened at my touch, such smooth skin accentuated by tight peaks. I tugged a little harder until her body tensed in protest. Her breathing accelerated. She opened her eyes.

  I backed off and made soothing circles over the top of her chest and shoulders. When her posture was once again relaxed, I repeated the process. I watched the expressions on her face carefully as I tormented her sensitive skin. She played a tantalizing game of catch and release with her bottom lip every time I reached her pain threshold and then backed off again. She whimpered softly as I manipulated her. Over and over again I brought her pain and then released her quickly.

  I shifted my legs, bending my knees up behind her and forcing her higher onto my hips. I groaned as her hot pussy came in contact with my cock through the material of my jeans. I took her wrists in my hands, pulling them out from behind her back, and she rested them lightly on my shoulders. I pressed her bare back onto my thighs and tipped her head back. Her long hair tickled the tops of my feet where it just barely brushed.

  I returned my attention to her tits, this time with my mouth. I kissed the tops of her breasts and ran my tongue into the valley between them. I breathed her in and nuzzled the inside curves with the tip of my nose. Her chest rose and fell steadily with her breathing. I darted my tongue out, wetting the pink tip of her right breast before sucking it past my lips and teeth.

  She cried out as I bit her gently, and her hands tightened around my neck, clutching the short hairs at the base of my skull. I soothed the pain away with the flat of my tongue before repeating the treatment on the other side.

  She subconsciously rocked her hips, gaining friction against my jeans. I wasn't finished with her breasts yet, but I was becoming rather uncomfortable.

  "Lift up," I said softly, tapping her hip so that she would understand. She used my shoulders for leverage and lifted her hips so that I could slide my jeans and boxers down. I breathed a sigh of relief at the freedom.

  "Ride me," I commanded, bringing her back down, this time onto my waiting cock. She cried out as she took me in. I bit the inside of my cheek. She was so fucking wet. "Fuck, baby." God that was good. She lifted herself up and down a bit awkwardly at first, but then she found a steady rhythm and began to ride me hard.

  "Fuck yes. That's right." I laid my head back on the couch and enjoyed the feel of it. She reached behind her and put her hands on my knees, gaining leverage as she moved up and down over every inch of my cock. Her pink tits, still flushed from my abuse, bounced delightfully as she tossed her head back and enjoyed me. />
  "You like using my cock like your own personal fuck toy don't you?" I dug my heels into the floor and lifted my hips to meet her. She let out a short cry as I bucked against her cervix.

  I palmed her breasts and felt her gush around me as I squeezed the now oversensitive flesh. "Beautiful fucking tits," I growled. I lifted her breasts up, and pushed her back against my bent legs. My thumb traced circles around her pink areola. I increased the pace and force of my hips, taking control of her. Fuck she brought out the most primal instincts in me. All I could think about was plowing right through her hot cunt.

  I wrapped her beautiful hair around one fist and tugged her head back, arching her over my legs. I could watch her like this for hours. I rendered her immobile with the hand in her hair, her perky tits thrust out to me, as I fucked her from below.

  I squeezed her hip, pulling her down hard on my cock, and commanded her to orgasm. She did so a moment later, her wet pussy tightening around my erection. The feeling was too intense, and I joined her with a grunt, watching her breast heave with exertion.

  I pressed my face once again to her chest before letting her up. She stood a little wobbly on her feet. I lifted myself to the couch and pulled her to me, her back to my front.

  "How do you feel?" I asked.

  She took a deep breath before answering. "Like I just went twenty minutes on a rodeo bull."

  I laughed. She was going to be just fine.

  Katlyn

  Time passed by like it always does, and I began to feel more pressure about school. I hadn't told anyone, but I had some fairly deep-rooted fears about failing out. I felt as though I'd never really been challenged in my academic career, and I was having nightmares where seven foot tall college administrators in jet-black suits called me stupid and sent me home. Part of me knew that it was pointless to worry, but that didn't keep the dreams away.

  I had been debating telling Cody about it, but I wasn't quite sure how to bring it up. The last few times that we'd been together he had been more gentle with me – playful even. Don't get me wrong, he was still every bit the quintessential Dominant male, but he hadn't made an effort to spank me or really get rough with me since the night I had embarrassingly sobbed all over him. For the first couple of days following that whole episode I had felt both exhausted and exposed, but then after the initial feelings had passed I realized that I really did feel better. I asked myself repeatedly why that was, but over-analyzing it wasn't helping so I opted to just accept it.

 

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