by Lilly Black
As the physical pressure mounts, the psychological pressure comes with it. Old fears creep in, and the sensation begins to drain away.
“Cain?” I whisper. He shushes me softly.
“But…” I protest.
“Evan,” he says with an irritated smirk, “if you’ve always approached it with this kind of impatience, it’s no wonder…”
“I haven’t,” I admit, with a laugh.
“Then give it a little time.”
“But when it’s gone…it’s gone,” I say, hoping he’ll understand what I mean because I can’t just come out and say it. Stopping him is more direction than I’ve ever given.
“I know how a clit works, Evan,” he says. “Trust me.” He puts his hand over my eyes and pushes my head gently back into the pillow, and I try to clear my mind as he kisses my breasts, making my nipples harden as he bites down, reawakening my longing for him as he coaxes my mindset back into the realm of possibility. I shut out everything but Cain as he starts again, teasing me lightly, and it feels so good, like it did when he started the first time…until he begins to speed up. Just as it has always been with me, the subtlest of clues that what is happening to me could lead to orgasm is what makes me go numb. It isn’t fair!
“Cain,” I say in a tiny, remorseful voice. “It’s…it’s not…”
“Not happening?” he hisses through gritted teeth, and the patient man I know is instantly gone as a change comes over him. “Fuck this!”
He gets up and drags me to the foot of the bed by my legs, yanking my panties off, turning me over, and forcing me onto all fours. He’s scaring me, but I don’t fight it because I don’t care what he does to me at this point. He can fuck me, dominate me, punish me, beat me with one of his leather whips…I deserve it.
I hold my crawling position as I hear Cain looking through drawers, then he suddenly puts his arms around me, cupping my breasts in his hands and pulling me upright on my knees. He kisses my neck ferociously, biting me as he unhooks my front-closure bra, tossing it aside, leaving me naked and feeling exposed even in the near darkness of my bedroom. I try to show him by covering myself with my hands, but this Cain doesn’t have the same tolerance for my issues. He grabs a fistful of my hair, pulling my head back.
“You are going to lie back on that bed, free your mind of whatever the fuck is standing in my way, and I’m going to make you come. If at any point I have to stop again, I will put you over my knee and spank you until you can’t sit down. Do you understand me?” he asks, stern and serious.
“Yes,” I say meekly.
“Yes, Sir,” he demands, pulling my hair harder to punctuate it. When I don’t obey, he pushes me forward onto the bed, and though I put my hands out to catch myself, I’m not quick enough.
“I should spank you for your disrespect alone,” he spits as I land flat on my face. I don’t say anything, lying there motionless, reduced to the automaton state he’s initiated without realizing.
“On your back,” he orders, but I can’t comply, which incenses him, earning me a hard slap on the ass before he rolls me over himself. Growling his displeasure, he comes to the head of the bed, and I see what he got out of my drawers. With two of my belts in hand, he ties the first around my right wrist and the other around my left, securing both to their respective bedposts.
Bound and helpless, when Cain’s lips meet mine again, he’s hungrier than before, not just kissing but possessing my mouth, claiming it and all of the rest of me as his to do with as he wishes, and I can’t imagine why I would ever want to be anything but what I am at this moment - entirely under his command. I don’t feel at all like I thought I would. I was afraid it would dredge up parts of my past best forgotten, but it doesn’t feel like he’s repeating the abuse. He’s chasing away the ghosts, making my submission to him the function of the automaton, no longer driven by the conditioning that created her.
“Don’t think,” he instructs me as I feel his hand slide over my stomach, inching close to forbidden territory, but he doesn’t touch me directly. Instead he uses his palm on me, barely moving, just letting me feel his warmth and presence. His lips begin to kiss downward, and by the time they reach the target, inside my head I’m begging for attention from his mouth. I hear a faint mmmm as he finds my clit erect at the first, slight movement of his tongue, and it urges me on, making me want to please him. Slowly he builds it up just like he did last time, but it’s different now. He’s different, and so am I as I watch him, somehow emboldened by my bondage. He looks up and catches me.
“Eyes closed,” he orders. I comply, but as Cain closes his own eyes, I can’t stop myself from stealing a peek through lash-laden slits until he stops abruptly, pushes my legs into the air, and slaps my ass again, harder this time.
“That was a warning,” he says, and as he massages the sting out, I close my eyes tight. He forces my legs wide apart with his hands on my thighs, and though I feel completely on display now, it’s the distraction I need to stop me from sabotaging myself when he speeds up from delicate, light circles to a concentrated pressure directly on my clit. His mouth covers me as his tongue’s stiff and precise assault feels so good it almost burns, overloading my senses as I…I’m…oh, my fucking God! I’m coming!
“Cain!” I scream. “Oh, Cain! Oh, my God!” I lose control, involuntarily thrusting myself into his face. He doesn’t pull away but pushes back, grasping the flesh of my hips in his hands and forcing every last bit of pleasure out of me until my clit becomes so sensitive I can’t bear the slightest touch.
Oh, my God…Oh, my God…Oh, my God…
“Oh, my God…” I breathe, feeling entirely out of phase with reality as Cain softly kisses his way up my body until he’s lying atop me.
“So,” he whispers with his cocky grin as I lie beneath him, weak and unraveled, “you gonna fall in love with me?”
“Yes,” I admit breathlessly.
“Then I had better make sure I like fucking you.”
Oh, God, yes!
“You don’t have to use that if you don’t want to,” I say as Cain reaches for the condom he placed on my nightstand when we came in. “I’m on the pill.” He doesn’t hesitate, tossing it onto the floor.
“I hate those fucking things,” he whispers as he begins to guide himself into me gently and oh-so-slowly, but I don’t want to wait. I grind my heels into the back of his legs like spurs, wanting be as close to him as I can possibly get.
“Be patient, Evan,” he whispers. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
But I want you to, I think, feeling oddly innocent as the pain reminds me that I’ve never been with a man before, only clumsy boys. He gives in, and as his cock fills me with a strange and foreign pleasure, tasting myself on his lips when he kisses me drives me wild. I pull at my makeshift tethers, wanting to be able to touch him, and Cain frees me, loosening my bonds with expert skill. He pushes me against the headboard until he’s on his knees with me in his lap, straddling him, his hands on my waist to lift me up and pull me down onto his cock. It feels incredible, but all I want in the world right now is to make him come.
“I want to try a different position,” I say, and when I get him to lie on his back, I straddle him, pushing his arms up over his head. With my knees at his sides, I turn my feet inward, pinning his legs as I slide onto his cock.
“Hold still,” I command as I begin lifting myself up and down on him using my feet against him for leverage. I’ve never done this before, but as I lean away from him, my hands clutching his legs above the knee, I figure it out. I like watching him watch me, and though my moves are tentative, it must be working for him because I feel him growing evermore stone-like inside me. Instinctively, I know when his orgasm is imminent, and that’s when he stops me.
“Ladies first,” he insists.
“You’re going to make me do this the hard way, aren’t you?” I snap, an evil grin on my face, and before he realizes what I mean by that, I grab one of the belts still tied to the bedpost and q
uickly tie his wrists together above his head. Now, he has no choice in the matter because I am in charge.
“Don’t move,” I say sternly, and though his expression is incredulous, he surrenders to me. I’ve never done what I am about to do before either, but at this moment, nothing seems more fulfilling than Cain’s cock in my mouth. Lucky for him, BDSM isn’t the only thing I’ve researched on the internet recently.
I begin at the base, teasing as I work my way to the tip and close my lips around him. His cock is smooth as glass and so hard, it’s barely malleable at all, and I love the way the taut flesh feels against my lips and tongue. With one hand wrapped around the shaft and the other making subtle traces with my fingernails lower, I swirl my tongue around the tip, almost releasing him entirely as I rise, then taking him into my throat when I go back down. I can tell I’ve translated my academic knowledge well as Cain moans and tenses, and though I can feel it when he’s almost at his end, he still gives me fair warning.
“Evan, if you don’t want me to come in your mouth…” Cain says.
“What a stupid thing to say,” I breathe, my mouth barely missing a beat.
“Oh, fuck!” he cries out suddenly, and I look up into his eyes, my own wild and expectant. He thrusts his hips forward, and I realize why he warned me as I feel him hot and wet against the back of my throat, flooding into my mouth forcefully, filling me with a sense of power and satisfaction.
“Damn, Evan,” Cain whispers breathlessly as I lay casually between his legs, my arms rested over the top of his thighs. He slips his hands from my poorly tied bonds and pulls me up to lie beside him.
“And, by the way, I do like fucking you,” he confirms, and snuggling against him, I smile, perfectly at peace with a naked man for the first time in my life.
September 3
The last thing I remember is falling asleep in Cain’s arms, but now I find myself in the home where I grew up in Louisiana. The house is old with weathered wooden planks, worn carpets, and peeling wall paper that was once the height of style when the house was built a hundred years ago. In the upstairs hallway, only soft moonlight shines through the window at the far end, making it look less shabby as I rush down the long, wide corridor, turning all of the knobs, seeking a place to hide. Finally, I find an unlocked door and peek inside. It’s my bedroom. I see myself with Cain, but we’re not sleeping. I forget why I was running, mesmerized by the sight of his beautiful body as he fucks me. He’s on top with my legs wrapped around him as shadows from the moon outside the window make the flexing of his muscles more pronounced and seductive. I want to be under him there, feeling his cock inside me, but even the dream version of myself is damaged. She tells him that it will never work, and as I watch her roll over onto her side and weep, I become her. Cain is gone, and in the mirror on the wall opposite the bed, I see that I am not myself as I am today but as I was when I last lived in this house. My whole body becomes heavy, as if I am bound to the bed by magnetic force, and I begin to cry in deep, mournful sobs.
I hate you, Mother! You knew! You knew! You knew! As the words repeat in my head, time passes rapidly until I have grown into my present self. I stretch out on the bed on my back, and the dream becomes like nothing I have ever dreamed before.
I’m levitating like a magician’s assistant over his trick table, but I don’t feel the strings. It’s disorienting, and I see nothing but darkness all around me. I hear nothing, smell nothing, taste nothing, but I realize, like a jolt of electricity, that I feel something - something intense, all-encompassing, something numinous. Nothing is touching me anywhere but my clit, where a wet, silken tongue is making delicate, concentrated circles that gradually increase in frequency and pressure…
…and suddenly I’m awake, aware of Cain’s hands on my thighs, pushing my legs apart, but before my conscious mind can interfere, I feel myself pushed over the edge…over that edge…and I’m falling…
“Fuck! Oh, my God! Fuuuuuuuuck!” I’m not just crying out. I’m screaming, and I don’t care. Nothing matters but Cain and the orgasm that seems to last forever as I writhe against his face, and he gives as much as I can take, not stopping until I squirm away, giggling ecstatically. It makes him laugh, too.
“Good morning,” he says, moving to lie beside me.
“Oh my God, Cain!” I throw my arms around him, my eyes beginning to well with tears.
“No, baby, don’t cry,” he says, wiping a tear away with his finger.
“It’s not…it’s just…oh, my God, Cain!” What I can’t give voice, I say with a sweet kiss that quickly grows into a passionate need to feel him inside me. Throwing a leg over him, I roll him onto his back and straddle him, carefully sliding myself onto his beautiful, granite-like cock. It hurts more than it did last night, but I don’t care because I want everything he has to give me, pleasure and pain.
I lean toward him this time, and as he guides me with his hands on my waist, I shift, trying to find the right angle. His cock awakens every nerve ending in its path, but the sensation feels more like the satisfaction of scratching an itch compared to what he does with his tongue.
“Please don’t stop,” I beg when he freezes, holding me in place just when I think he’s on the brink, his cock twitching inside me when I say, “I want to feel you come.”
“Keep talking like that, and you’ll make me whether I want to or not.”
“Good, so shut up, and let me make you come.”
“You shut up, and let me make you come,” he says.
“I already did,” I say. The neighbors can attest to that! “Besides, I still feel too…sensitive.”
“That shouldn’t affect…” Cain stops midsentence and laughs softly, then he rolls us over and kisses my forehead.
“Sweet, innocent girl,” he whispers, “they are two entirely different things.” He reaches down between my legs and touches me lightly and carefully with the palm of his hand over my clit, and when he moves his hand away and gives me a thrust of his cock, I think I understand.
“Come here.” Cain pulls me to the side of the bed, sliding my ass off the edge and putting my legs on his shoulders. When he starts fucking me again, I can feel him deeper in this position, and I let my legs slide down his arms and wrap around him, pulling him into me as I focus on what I feel on the inside. I arch my back, and though I can’t pinpoint exactly where it is, he’s hitting something new. I feel it promising, growing, taking me over.
“Harder!” I demand, digging my heels into the back of his legs as he begins crashing into me wildly with his hands clutching me behind the knees, pulling me so hard I feel the half moons of his fingernails cutting into my flesh.
“Oh, Cain, fuck!” I moan. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” I hear myself chanting it over and over as I teeter on the edge of a cliff, holding my breath until I’m abruptly cast down into the abyss, screaming as virgin nerve endings are besieged by powerful, foreign pleasures, my entire body vibrating as Cain thrusts deep and slow. I feel myself clenching inside in a strange rhythm, tightening around him in shockwaves as I grind myself against him until he finally lets go, exploding inside me, his cock throbbing as he cries my name, twisting my flesh in his hands, and if not for his hold on me, I feel like I would collapse as if I had no bones, no form, no substance.
And I have no words…
It’s late Tuesday morning when I wake again, and Cain is still beside me. I know he should be at work, but he’s sleeping so peacefully I don’t want to disturb him. My head remains entirely in the clouds, and though I feel so much closer to him and so far away from my original fears, I have a whole new set now.
“Good morning,” I hear Cain say softly as his eyes open just a slit.
“Good morning,” I say, a sudden permagrin on my face as all else is instantly forgotten.
“What time is it?” he asks.
“Almost eleven,” I say. “I’m sorry. I’ve let you oversleep.”
“Do you think I had any intention of leaving this bed for work this mornin
g?” He always knows just what I need to hear. “I’m not sure I want to leave it at all today.”
“Unfortunately, I have to be at work at 6:00.”
“Don’t go,” Cain says.
“I have to, but I’m off tomorrow.”
“Call in sick.”
“You know I can’t. Dave depends on me, and I still have to save for grad school.”
“How much more do you need?”
“I’m not taking your money, Cain,” I say, rolling my eyes at him.
“Evan, it’s not about money. I work mornings, you work nights. I don’t get to see you nearly enough. If you quit Prometheus and let me take care of you, we won’t have to wait until you’re in grad school to have our schedules synced.”
“I’ll probably take night classes, you know.”
“Not if I find a way to fill them all before you register.”
“You couldn’t!”
“Try me.” We laugh, and though he lets it go for now, there’s something else nagging at me. I need to know why he woke me the way he did this morning. I didn’t mind it. In fact, I can’t imagine a better way to wake, but it worries me. It’s not the first time I’ve been awakened by unsolicited sexual attention, and I’m afraid of how my body may have reacted. Did I tighten every muscle into near rigor mortis, and if so, would he recognize it as a sign of my past abuses? I’m terrified of Cain knowing what happened to me. It wasn’t my fault, but my mother allowed it to happen. My room was right above hers. Surely, she heard the creaking floorboards when he would come to my bedroom at night, yet she did nothing. That is the stock I come from.
“Cain,” I begin warily, “when you woke me up…you know…”
“Yes,” he says, smiling.
“Did…” I freeze. I don’t know how to ask him. Did you have to pry my legs apart? Did I say anything curious? Did you feel my scars? Oh, God, I didn’t even think about my scars!
“I didn’t do anything I didn’t do last night,” Cain assures me, “and though normally I prefer women awake and fully responsive, I wanted to show you that you don’t need me to be forceful to make you come. Waking you like that kept you from over thinking it.”