Breaking The Mold

by Drew Sera

  She was so sheltered from life.

  “Am I wrong, Amy?”

  I met her eyes with my challenging question.

  “Think about it for a moment, Amy. Close your eyes for a few minutes and hear me out.” She shut her eyes as I took hold of her hand. “Picture a young woman living in a shelter. She barely has a roof over her head and nothing else. Picture the same woman trying to make ends meet and living in a run-down apartment in L.A. Maybe she’s cold or hungry. Now picture the same young woman living in a comfortable home in Malibu. She’s no longer cold or hungry or neglected of medical care. Now, tell me, princess…which girl is the happiest?”

  She shook her head but didn’t open her eyes.

  “You’re not comparing similar situations, J.P.”

  “Having money and living comfortably makes life easier and happier.”

  She still shook her head at what I was saying. She didn’t understand. I leaned forward and planted a kiss on her forehead.

  “Amy, if we had money, my brother would have had the better medical care. My parents wouldn’t have had to drive hours to an overcrowded hospital when he got sick in the middle of the night or for doctor’s appointments. They had to take him there because that’s where people without any money went for care. They were never turned away there. The lines and crowds were unbelievable. My older brothers had to stay home with me while my parents took my brother to the emergency room that was close to two hours away. I can’t tell you the number of times I heard my father console my crying mother because we didn’t have money to help my brother. We had garage sales each month to make extra money. In the beginning, it was selling clothes we had outgrown or old linens. Soon our bikes were sold and my mother’s jewelry. Everything my parents were earning at work went to bills and medical care for my brother. Money from the garage sales went to putting food on the table.” I wiped the fallen tears from Amy’s cheeks and kissed her forehead again. “So, yes Amy, money drives happiness and an easier life.”

  “I’m sorry, J.P.”

  “Don’t be sorry. You and I can have different opinions on money and things. It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

  I smiled at her and she gave me a weak smile. I could tell she was down now and I regretted that this conversation had gone in this direction. It was just something I felt strongly about.

  We ate in silence for a few minutes, and I couldn’t help but think about many of the men at Irons. Specifically, Colin Everett. Fucking rich asshole. All the articles and company bios on Everett Gaming tout that the CEO had built the company from the ground up. I buy into the fact that the asshole built the company, but he was handed money to do it.

  And Anthony Graves worked for him. Though I doubt they ever fucking worked. He’s another one who was handed money on a silver fucking platter. But, I didn’t hate him. Not like Everett.

  “J.P., are you okay?” Amy’s voice caused me to look up.

  “Yes, sorry sweetheart.” I took a healthy sip of wine and willed myself to get Graves and Everett out of my head by the time I set the glass down. “Let’s talk about something more pleasant; your sequel to Dark Kiss. You’re settled on the title?” I asked her.

  I knew she’d been bouncing around with title options for a few weeks. Amy didn’t like letting things linger with regards to her books. So I knew the sooner she decided on the title, the better she’d feel. According to her, once the title is released a lot of other things begin moving. Amy nodded and set her glass down.

  “Yes, I’m going with Dark Spell,” she announced with a smile.

  “It’s an excellent title. I love it. It was actually my favorite one out of the ones you were considering,” I admitted.

  Her playful smile forced my face into a smile.

  “I know.”

  “What about that phrase thing?”

  I snapped my fingers while looking away as I tried to think of what the phrase was called. She called it something specific and the name of it escaped me at the moment. Amy was trying to figure out what I was talking about when I looked at her. “Dammit, it’s that phrase in your promo stuff and the cover.” I slapped my hand on the table as it was coming back to me. “The phrase on your cover, what’s it called?”

  “Oh! I know what you’re talking about. The tagline.”

  “Yes! Have you decided on it yet?”

  She nodded, and the smile on her face broadened. I could tell she was brimming with excitement.

  “She wanted dark...but how dark could she go?” Amy recited while staring into my eyes.

  Fuck. It was perfect. I loved it. I was overwhelmed with so many thoughts and images in my head. That tagline was hitting me right in the chest and causing my head to run wild.

  She wanted dark...but how dark could she go?

  It was beyond perfect.

  We’d discussed how Amy’s character Rebecca was very much like her. My head went into overdrive thinking about how this could be a sign. Rebecca was a novice in the BDSM world and learning the ropes from the experienced Dom, Nick. Rebecca trusted Nick with everything, and now she was getting ready to declare to Nick that she wanted to go deeper into his world.

  Perhaps, just like Amy was.

  Was this book her way of telling me that she was ready to go further with me?

  Was the tagline her declaration?

  My head was exploding with ideas. Shit, I was starting to get hard as I pictured her bound in beautiful rope while being spanked. Fuck.

  “What do you think of it?” Amy cautiously asked after I had been dead silent for a few minutes. “Do you hate it?” Her voice had gone from beaming with excitement, to cautious, to worried. My silence instilled worry.

  I smiled brightly and took hold of her hands. I wanted to make sure I conveyed the right words.

  “It’s wonderful, Amy. Nick will be thrilled beyond words to show Rebecca his darker side,” I said, hoping she’d hear my own message in it.

  She nodded, and her beautiful smile reappeared.

  “It’s a big step for Rebecca, but she wants it very badly.”

  She’s a bright girl, and I knew we were both on the same wavelength now.

  “Nick wants to show her the dark,” I added, speaking for myself through her character, Nick.

  “Rebecca wants it, but she’s not sure how far she can go.” Amy was honestly expressing her own overall fear of the unknown.

  “Nick is patient, and he will go slow,” I said as I tugged her out of her seat and guided her to sit on my lap. “Nick will be very careful with Rebecca. He will teach her as they go and give her a chance to process everything. He will take care of her,” I promised.

  This was the perfect time to talk to her about her first bondage scene.

  “I wanted to talk to you this weekend about something important, and this seems like a good time,” I said and kissed her lips. “Amy, I was hoping that you and I could talk about a bondage scene while you’re here for this visit.”

  She smiled, nodded her head and said, “I’d love for us to talk about it. Maybe even test it out a bit.”

  I kept my eyes on her and concentrated on breathing evenly. It was difficult though because I was getting so fucking hard just at the idea of tying her up.

  “We can try if you’d like,” I said in a controlled and even tone.

  Amy wiggled on my lap. I knew she could feel my hard dick. That nightie of hers didn’t cover much.

  “Are you done with dinner, princess? I think I’m ready for dessert.”

  I stared at him for a few minutes. He was right there within touching distance. He sat on the ground in short boxer briefs that accentuated his muscular thighs with his ass resting on his heels and arms resting to his side.

  He wouldn’t look at me. This didn’t surprise me. I knew he was a stubborn fuck. I could teach him though. He’d learn his place through experience.

  Experience was what he needed so he could understand where he belongs.

  “Bend your arms at th
e elbows and put them behind you against your back,” I instructed and waited for him to comply.

  Once his arms were where I wanted them, I pulled two lengths of metal chains from a bag that was sitting in a cooler full of ice. The chains were dry but were cold. I quickly wrapped one length around his upper chest and arms, connecting the ends behind his back with a metal D-ring.

  “Fuck, it’s cold,” he said.

  I grabbed the ice-cold chain and tugged it backward.

  “Quiet. If I want to hear you, I’ll do something to pull a sound from you.”

  I let go of the chain and picked up the other length, positioning it under his chest pecs. Since his pecs were so defined, the links of the chain would rest perfectly under them. He made no noise this time as I connected the ends behind his back and over his arms. Soon I had his hands and wrists wrapped in chains and a length connected to chains around his ankles.

  Standing in front of him, I looked down and marveled at the sight of him. The chains were pulled tight pressing into his skin above and below his pecs. That abdomen was so tight, and that scar spoke to me. Someone hurt him.

  I crouched down and picked up the crop. I stretched my arm outward and tapped his scar with the leather tip. He jerked and fought to free his arms. God, he had no idea what he was doing to me.

  I continued to tap his scar and stopped when he finally looked up at me. Fire burned in his eyes.

  “The more you fight and struggle against the chains, the harder I get.”

  I watched the young man fight with himself, and it excited me even more. Watching him work in his own mind, reminded me so much of me and my first chained experience. He was reacting just as I had; once the physical struggle stopped, the struggle inside the head starts.

  His chest was heaving and his abdomen flexed. He was quiet now, and I edged closer to him. I was so close that his cologne filled my senses and energized me.

  “Was this a medical procedure?” I asked as I tapped his stomach with the crop.

  I kept tapping his stomach, getting closer and closer to that scar. He flinched again, but this time it was subtle and less manic. I looked into his clouded gray eyes. Eyes that he tried keeping from me. Eyes that hid something dark. I wanted to unearth that darkness and pull it out of him. I wanted to see what was inside of him, brewing like a perfect storm.

  “Someone harmed you,” I said. “I won’t harm you.” I emphasized the word “harm.” He knew enough about the difference between “harm” and “hurt” from being under Blake’s wing. I would most definitely hurt him…but not harm him.

  His body language told me that was the case.

  “You’re so guarded. You probably have a reason. People who have been hurt are often quiet. And I see the fire that you try to hide behind those eyes. This,” I paused and tapped the chains and his chest with the crop. “This will be good for you.” He was still quiet.

  I turned, and my eyes fell on my beautiful, sweet author. Amy walked over and knelt next to Anthony. I took extra care with binding Amy. I spoke softly to her as I did it and made sure she had some give and a little range of motion.

  As I began to slap Amy’s tits with the crop, my vision started to get hazy. The more my eyes tried to focus the worse it got.

  The next thing I knew was that I was staring at the ceiling of my room. It was just a dream. And I was pissed it was a dream. It was a great dream, but none of it was real. I tried closing my eyes hoping to slip back into the dream, but it was no use. I was wide awake and rock hard.

  As I laid there naked and seeping pre-cum from the head of my dick, Amy slept peacefully on her stomach beside me. I was able to retain pieces of my dream and lazily stroked myself while the fragments meshed with my imagination.

  My cock ached, and I felt like I could come so hard just by the faintest touch. I closed my eyes again and could picture the two of them as they knelt before me. Her in rope, him in chains. I pictured him in his younger years when he first joined Irons. Everything I wanted was right there; the beautiful, loving woman who seeks my hands...and the resistant young man with fire in his veins that my hands have itched to touch for so long.

  Her skin was so delicate, and the rope in the dream was soft to compliment her. And those chains. Fuck. I began to stroke my cock with more purpose as I focused on the image from my dream. Those chains were perfect for him. They could hold him. I’d love to pull all that darkness out of him as he fights with himself in the chains. I could sit close and watch the fire burn until it almost consumes him. Then, I could give him what he needed until that fire was out.

  Shit, I needed to come badly. I got up on my knees and gripped my dick in my hands. I needed to fuck hard.

  Though Amy and I have visited one another and we’ve fucked many times, I’ve still been very careful with her as to not harm her. And I haven’t truly hurt her either. I am trying hard not to hurt her to the point where she’s a mess. It’s going to take effort and control on my part to keep our sex and play at a pace she feels comfortable with.

  But I had an urgent need right now. I took a deep breath and reminded myself who was in my bed. Amy, my princess.

  I gently cupped her ass and felt her soft skin against my calloused hand. Leaning over her, I made a trail of kisses going from her ass up her back. As my mouth neared her upper back, I moved my head toward the mattress and licked the side of her breast that was exposed. She was ticklish and started giggling and squirming. And in the right mood, I could entertain her playful side.

  But not right now in my current state.

  “Amy, I need to fuck you.”

  Her sweet smile was surrounded by laughter.

  “I’m up for that,” she said.

  She started to roll over, but I stopped her.

  “No, princess. I need it this way, now.”

  She stayed still but said, “Okay.” She was giving me permission...but she didn’t truly understand the level of my need. I needed to come, and I hope she remembered my need to give pain. I needed to be able to let go…but this was my princess.

  “Ass in the air,” I instructed.

  As she obediently got into position, I took a few steadying breaths and reminded myself again.

  This is Amy…my princess.

  “I need it rough, princess,” I warned.

  “Okay,” she said in her sleepy voice.

  “If it gets too much, just say ‘red.’”

  I knew her mind was running away, wondering how rough. Or maybe she wasn’t even processing what was on the horizon. But it was coming.

  I pulled the pillow out from under her sleepy head so it would rest against the mattress. I got into position behind her and smacked her ass, which effectively pulled an, “Ow,” from her.

  One firm thrust was all it took for me to enter her waiting pussy.

  “Ow, mmm. Damn,” Amy hissed.

  I stayed still for a moment.

  This is Amy. Don’t harm her. Be careful with her. She’s not him and can’t take it like he probably can.

  “You’re okay, princess,” I told her.

  She needed to believe that she was genuinely. Amy relaxed and stopped moving around, so I proceeded with taking care of my own urgent need.

  Leaning over her, I covered her hands with mine to hold her down. My lower legs rested over her feet, pinning her to the bed. She was mine and feeling her body trapped under me, gave me the high I was seeking.

  And I began to fuck her. I fucked her hard and without abandon. My head was near hers, and I could hear her panting.

  “You sound so good, princess,” I whispered as I pulled out of her pussy.

  I pushed myself upright, pulled her ass cheeks apart and lined the head of my cock up against her tiny hole.

  “I want to hear you, Amy.”

  My cock worked its’ way up her tight ass as I leaned back over her and covered her hands with mine again. I fucked her ass to the beautiful sound of her discomfort. She was still doing okay, though she was in obvious discom
fort. Physical feelings of discomfort were okay.

  Amy’s writhing and squirming motions shot adrenaline through my body. When her panting turned into whimpers, I had to feel the struggle and discomfort in her neck.

  I let go of her hands, noticing they had become small fists, grasping the sheets. I pushed myself off her body just enough to slide my left hand under her chest. I snaked my arm between her breasts and spread my hands across her chest, just under her collarbones. She was so small in my hands. My right hand slipped under her stomach, and in one move I pulled both of us upward, and I sat back on my heels, impaling her ass.

  “Ah!” she cried out as our positioning changed.

  “You’re okay, Amy,” I reminded her and tried to calm her movements.

  Her body was tense, and I discovered how swollen her clit was when I moved my hand from her stomach to feel it.

  “Naughty, dirty princess. You’re swollen,” I pointed out.

  With my chest and stomach pressed against her back, I reached up and took her right nipple between my thumb and index finger. Time to hear my princess scream. As I pinched her nipple relentlessly, I slid my left hand from her chest up to her neck and gently wrapped around it.

  “Ah! J—”

  Amy continued to cry out and writhe around as I pinched her nipple while fucking her ass. I knew it was a lot for her and kept my concentration on her neck and breathing. Her mind and body were trying to process too many sensations right now. My hand felt her hurried swallow move from the curve between my thumb and index finger…down my palm and beyond my wrist.

  “Mmph…J.P.! Oh, God!” she moaned.

  I was barreling toward my release. I closed my eyes as my harsh fingers continued tormenting her nipple and when she cried out again, I exploded. I let go of her nipple and pulled her tightly against me when I felt her own body give way to her orgasm. My hand that cupped her throat allowed me to feel her orgasm from the depths of her soul. Her ass milked my cock while I filled her with my warm cum. Amy’s throat was very active against my hand as her body worked through what she was going through physically.