“If you have an orgasm, I’m going to deprive you of sex for six months. Is that understood?” he asked.
I nodded my head, “Uh huh.”
His weight shifted from the bed. I heard light footsteps across the room, some shifting of objects, and slight weight on the edge of the bed again.
Whack!
I felt the pain a fraction of a second after the sound of the paddle slapping my ass filled the room. I yelped out in pain against the comforter.
The stinging was like fire against my skin. I tensed my muscles and pulled against my fur lined restraints, preparing for another slap of the paddle against my overly sensitive skin. The cool flat surface of the paddle pressing against my left cheek startled me as his breath filled my right ear.
“If you have an orgasm, I’m going to deprive you of sex for six months. Is that understood? A Yes, Sir, or a No, Sir will suffice as a response,” he breathed into my ear.
I swallowed heavily, licked my lips, and responded.
“Yes, Sir,” I murmured.
I heard the paddle fall to the floor beside the bed. The unmistakable metallic clank of his belt unbuckling followed. Then, I grinned as I recognized the sound of his zipper being unzipped. As my ass continued to burn from the previous swat of the wooden paddle, I heard a noise similar to opening the mints the usher gave away at the movie theatre.
A condom?
The left edge of the bed shifted downward as it absorbed his weight, and almost immediately I felt his massive chest press against my side. As the forearm of his right arm pressed into the middle of my back, his hand gathered my hair and gripped it tightly. He pulled against it, lifting my head from the bed as he breathed into my right ear.
“Not a word,” he exhaled into my ear.
Fearing the paddle if I responded, and further fearing the paddle if I didn’t say ‘Yes, Sir,’ I opted to keep my mouth shut. As close as I was able to discern, I only needed to respond if he asked me a question.
And, he had not.
With my muscles tensed in anticipation of the swat, he crawled on top of me. I felt his cock against my inner thigh as he situated himself, and realized as much as I wanted him to be inside of me, his instructions were clear.
No orgasms.
As I felt him begin to guide himself into my throbbing mound, I realized I had never seen him naked. I had never seen his cock. I had no idea if he was massive, sufficient, or small. Although it didn’t really matter at this point in time, I for some reason found it odd. While my mind soared into the possibilities of someday seeing him naked, his lack of continued penetration left me wondering just what he was packing between his legs.
And, as soon as the wonder filled my mind, the feeling of being impaled removed all speculation.
Oh dear lord.
I arched my back the best I was able and attempted unsuccessfully to lift my ass in the air. The angle at which he was now fucking me was determined primarily by the fact I was tied to the bed and stretched to my limits. My arms extended straight out toward each corner of the bed, and my legs stretched in the same manner, he was forcing himself inside of me at an odd angle.
Odd, but beyond pleasurable.
With each stroke, the tip of his apparently massive cock was grinding against my g-spot. At this rate, I knew I’d be lucky to last thirty seconds. I had no idea what the punishment would be for not following his instructions, but granting his request of not reaching climax was going to be impossible.
As he rhythmically worked himself in and out of my ever-so-willing pussy, instead of fully enjoying the experience, I worried. After what was probably only a few seconds, but seemed like thirty minutes, I decided to count my accounts receivable list as I could best recall them.
In alphabetical order.
When I reached the letter ‘D’, he was roughly thirty strokes into the torturous affair. I could feel every millimeter of his length as it slid past my wet pussy lips. Within a matter of seconds, I was certain I would explode.
His tight scrotum pounding against my swollen clit didn’t help matters.
As I felt him tugging against my hair, I was reminded there was a lot more going on than I was even capable of comprehending. His warm breath against my right ear warned me he was going to say something, undoubtedly causing me to make a decision I would inevitably screw up.
“If you pleasure yourself with an orgasm, Em, there’ll be hell to pay,” he breathed into my ear.
Fuck…
I bit my lower lip and began my effort to recall all of my clients in reverse, starting with ‘Z’.
He continued to pull against my hair, pound his hips against my ass, and force every inch of himself inside my aching pussy, all the while breathing into my ear with each stroke.
After a few more minutes, my level of arousal had risen to a point of no return. The absence of my sight, his warm breath against my ear, the sound of his skin slapping against mine, and the lingering smell of sex proved to be more than I was able to dismiss. I felt myself begin to contract making each stroke of his cock that much more pleasurable.
“If you come, I’ll paddle your ass so hard you’ll wish for the next year you hadn’t,” he growled, “Do you understand me?”
“Yes,” I whimpered.
As I felt his weight begin to shift, I corrected myself, “Yes, Sir!”
His torture continued. Now fucking me as if I were his last potential piece of ass on earth, he pulled my hair taught, arching my back, and thrust himself into my twat as if possessed by the devil himself. Although the entire event had previously been without speaking for the most part, his methods changed within an instant of his newfound energetic pattern of providing me pleasure.
“Fuck yes, Em, that little pussy of yours is a tight little fucker,” he bellowed.
“You like that big cock?’ he asked.
“Yes, Sir!” I shouted.
His free hand slapped against my ass. As I whimpered to myself from the pain, I was grateful, if even for a short moment, it took my focus away from him fucking me.
He leaned forward, smashing me into the comforter. As his chest pressed into my back, he bit my earlobe and exhaled into my ear.
“I’m going to pull this cock out of you and come all over that cute little face of yours, you submissive little shit. Do you understand me?” he growled.
“Yes…Yes, Sir,” I cried.
His scrotum pummeled my overly sensitive clit, causing the little love button to send a tingling sensation throughout my entire body. As he lifted his weight from my back and pulled against my hair sharply, I arched my back for a little relief.
“Don’t do it,” he demanded.
“No, Sir!” I wailed in response.
The weight of his body shifted as he fumbled around on the bed. After a few seconds of awkward feeling sex, his hands fumbled with my nipples, and then a pinching sensation…
Holy fucking…
Oh…my…god…
They felt as if they were on fire. I didn’t need to see them to understand what he had done. My nipples were in clamps, and ached like hell.
The feeling soon became a strangely satisfying one, and as he thrust himself in and out of my soaked and seemingly never-going-to-dry-up pussy, the ends of the devices he had clamped to my nipples scraped against the comforter with every few strokes of his cock. I could feel the sensation shooting through my body, all the way to my pussy.
He pounded away, and each time, my body tingled from nipple to crotch. The sensation was so pleasurable it was more than I was capable of enjoying without reaching climax.
Note to self: I love nipple clamps.
As I fought to forget what was happening and tried to force myself to hate it, I eventually embraced the feelings and allowed myself to enjoy them fully and totally, escaping into a blissful part of heaven only I knew to exist.
His screaming cast me from my safe place and brought me back into the reality of being fucked to death by a biker on a squeaking bed.
�
��You may…” he grunted.
He pressed himself against my back. “Reach…”
“Climax…” he breathed into my ear.
Confused, excited, and somewhat scared, I tossed my thoughts aside and focused on my throbbing clit and cock-filled pussy. As he continued to pound himself into me, the only noise in the room was the flesh-on-flesh sound of my wet pussy being owned by the most intriguing man in the world.
I arched my back, lifting my nipple clamps from the comforter slightly. As the tips of them brushed against the fabric, almost bringing me to climax, my entire body began to tingle. He continued to slide in and out, filling me with his manhood, and all of a sudden, my ears began to ring…
And my body began to shudder.
And something happened that had never before happened.
I bellowed out onto the room as my body convulsed into an orgasm unlike anything I had ever experienced. My body convulsed, my pussy clenched his cock, and my butthole puckered to the size of a grain of sand.
Although the dull thud of him continuing to fuck me continued long after I reached climax, I didn’t necessarily feel it. Everything became distant and foggy, like a dream. After what I expected was a few minutes time, I felt him folding my arms in front of me, and rolling me onto my back.
The lights of the bedroom seemed blindingly bright as he rolled beside me and softly spoke into my ear.
“Em…Em…are you alright?” he asked.
It was as if he was somewhere else, but I knew he wasn’t. Incapable of responding, but feeling the need to do so, I said ‘Yes, Sir’ in my mind, but the words never escaped my lips.
“Em…come on back, Em…come on, Baby…” he said softly.
I felt him caress my face, and rake his fingers through my hair. After a few minutes time of him whispering into my ear, and softly touching me, I returned from wherever I was, and into an state of something close to reality.
He lifted me from the bed and carried me into the master bathroom. I blinked my eyes and attempted to focus as he lowered himself into the tub, holding me in his arms. The warm water felt fabulous against my skin.
I glanced around the bathroom, still slightly confused, almost as if I had never seen one before. On the wire shelves beside the tub, were towels, washcloths, and fruit…
Fruit?
“Is that fruit?” I asked as I blinked my eyes and tilted my head toward the rack.
“Yes, you’ll need the nourishment,” he responded.
“What happened?” I asked.
“You went into what’s called subspace. It’s a rush of endorphins that literally send you somewhere your mind has never experienced. The intensity of the orgasm from a session like that is ten-fold of what you’re used to. Then, you crash back down to earth. It’s called Sub Drop. If that’s not where you are now, you’ll probably be there pretty damned soon. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” he said assured me.
He stood from the tub and grabbed a banana. As he turned around, I gazed at his body. His chiseled torso had three words tattooed below his waist. As he peeled the banana, I studied the tattoo, and realized it was written in Latin.
“What does that mean?” I asked as he handed me half of the banana.
“I came, I saw, I conquered,” he responded.
I bit into the banana as I nodded my head.
“When did you run the bath water?” I asked as I glanced around the spacious bathroom.
“When I left the room earlier. When I left the room a few minutes ago, I turned it off,” he said as he reached for the switch on the wall.
“I’m going to turn on the jets. Ready?” he asked as he held his hand over the switch.
I nodded my head, still pretty oblivious to my surroundings. “Yep,” I responded.
I felt like it was the morning after a bad drunk. Mentally, I was completely lost. As he stepped into the tub, I focused on the half of a banana he held in his hand.
“You gonna eat that?” I asked as I pointed at the banana.
“No,” he chuckled.
“It’s for you,” he said as he handed me the remaining banana.
“So, what did you think of that?” he asked as he reached for the soap.
“The banana?” I asked, knowing he meant the sex, but making at least an effort to be cute.
“Yeah, Em, the banana,” he responded sarcastically.
“The banana was kinda squishy, but the sex was some insane shit. What did you think?” I asked.
“Me?” he said as he squirted some soap onto a Loofah, “I couldn’t be any happier.”
Truth be told, I couldn’t have been any happier either. But what mattered more than anything was that he was happy, and knowing the answer made me even happier yet. As he wiggled his way past me in the tub and began to wash my back, I remembered the night we met, and how he beat the absolute shit out of the guy who was grabbing my boobs. I never would have guessed the man in the bar that night would be carrying me into the Jacuzzi tub and washing my back as I ate fruit.
But again, I expected Jackson Shephard was unlike any other man on this earth.
And he was slowly proving me to be right.
EMILY
July 26, 2006
Although it had only been two months since Jackson and I had met, we really hadn’t been separated at all during that period of time. And, if a person had the means and methods to measure the quality of time we had spent together, they would without a doubt agree our life together had been nothing short of a living dream.
As a young girl, I often guessed what my life would become, and when I would reach a point that I was satisfied with what I had either obtained or achieved. I suspected I would be fifty or maybe even slightly younger, but certainly not twenty-one. If given an opportunity as a high school girl to paint a perfect picture of what I expected my dream man to be, I never would have painted a picture of Jackson, but maybe that’s why so many relationships when we are young and foolish just don’t seem to last beyond a matter of weeks.
In my opinion, when we’re young, we don’t really know what we need, and it seems we settle for what we desire. Our desires are based on the thoughts and feelings of our inexperienced youth, and therefore aren’t in line with what we truly need, leaving us in the not-so-distant future in a position to choose either settling for what it is we have, or moving on in an attempt to find what we have come to believe we actually need.
And most women I knew seemed to settle for what they had, choosing not to seek what it was they truly needed.
I was fortunate. Jackson found me. And, be it by blind luck or fate, he had proven to be exactly what I needed.
“Put the fuckers wherever you want them,” he said as he wiped the sweat from his brow.
The July sun bore down on us like a heavy weight, the humidity from the previous night’s rain making the air so thick it was difficult to breathe. As if the temperature and my exposure to the sun over the course of the morning had caused mild brain damage, I continued to stare like an idiot at the ground.
“Okay,” I said as I gazed blankly at the pots of flowers we had brought home.
Jackson stood, studying the hole he had dug, and eventually turned away and walked into the garage. In a few minutes he returned with a small green box and carefully placed it into the hole. After tossing some dirt on top of the box, he lowered the rose bush into the hole and began adding some of the bagged soil we had purchased.
In the previous month I had backed out of the lease on my apartment and moved all of my belongings into Jackson’s home. Although he continued to call it our home, I really felt like it was his, and that I was invading his space. The addition of the flowers we had purchased together was a great help in convincing me it was a home we shared, and not one I was simply a guest in. As I continued to stare at them, I wondered if he realized in suggesting we plant flowers together that it would make me feel more comfortable.
“You realize those impatiens are annuals, and they won’t come b
ack next year, don’t you?” he asked as he finished planting his rose bush.
“Huh?” I responded as I gazed down at the pots of flowers, confused on where to put each one of them.
“Annuals will last for this season and die. Perennials will come back year after year. The rose bush is a perennial; we’ll have it for as long as we live here. It’ll be ours forever…well…as long as it lives, but they say they live thirty years or longer…” he explained as he shoveled the extra soil into the wheelbarrow.
“So these guys are gonna die?” I asked as I peered down at my flowers.
“That’s why they were on sale. We can enjoy ‘em for the rest of the summer, though,” he said as he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside.
“Put it back on,” I said jokingly as I covered my eyes.
Seeing him shirtless was sheer torture. His body was as perfect as I suspected anyone’s could ever be, and seeing it covered by a tight white tank tormented me enough. When he removed his shirt, I was forced to accept him as being a shirtless gorgeous tattooed biker until he chose to make sexual advancements toward me.
I had learned a lot about Jackson since we met, and although I initially tried dressing scantily, acting horny, and making idle sexual suggestions, I learned he was a far too disciplined to allow me to coerce him into sex. I simply had to enjoy watching him and wait until he decided he was ready.
As he pushed the wheelbarrow toward where I was standing, the muscles on his biceps flared. His washboard abs appeared to be chiseled out of stone, a product of his daily workouts, eating properly, and rarely enjoying sweets. The closer he got to me, the more I wanted to look away, but doing so was as impossible as any other time he was close enough for me to admire. As the sweat covering his torso glistened in the hot afternoon sun, I forced myself to tear my eyes from him and once again gaze down at my poor choice in flowers.
“Staring at ‘em isn’t going to do a lot of good,” he said as he shoved the end of the wheelbarrow into my thigh.
“Hey, watch where you’re going,” I said as I shoved against it.
He released the wooden handles, walked around me as if I wasn’t there, and slapped my ass as he passed by. After turning on the garden hose, he dragged it toward the rose bush he had planted, placed it on top of the new soil, and returned to my withering one-time-only and soon to be dead choice of flowers. As he placed his hands on his hips and gazed down at the flowers, he exhaled a sigh and shook his head lightly.