Switches

       I met him in poetry club.  I know it doesn’t seem like the kind of place you’d meet a person like that.  Or a person like me, either.  I was there because it was an excuse to get out of class.  He was there because he’d had his heart broken at the ripe old age of seventeen, only I didn’t know that yet.

       Poetry club was divided into two halves- the first half was a project where you wrote poem, sometimes alone and sometimes with a partner or in groups.  The second half was where we read a poem aloud, sometimes the one we’d just worked on, and sometimes something you wrote yourself.

       I’d thought he was hot the first time I laid eyes on him, as I walked into the lounge in the library and surveyed the people who were there, searching for someone I knew.  He had long, straight black hair that fell into his brown eyes over pale white skin.  His face was perfect, sometimes there was a zit or two but your eyes tended to get attracted to the dark moles on his right cheek instead.  He was thin, but he had nice muscles on him that showed when he flexed, such as when he dragged a lounge chair across the floor.  I, of course, never one to be shy, decided I wanted to be closer to him so I sat next to him, every day.  He glanced at me out of the corner of his eyes but was careful not to actually look my way, as was typical of being a high school student.  You always had to make sure you weren’t paying attention to anything, even though you were paying attention to everything.

       After a few meetings we got to know each other a little, as we got to know everyone else in the club.  It turned out he was an artist of all kinds; he also played guitar, he also wrote music, he also drew, constantly doodling in his sketchpad.  His smell was intoxicating.  That was the first thing I remember about becoming irresistibly attracted to him.  He smelled absolutely delicious.  His smile was absolutely gorgeous, a deep dimple on only the left side of his face, opposite from the moles, and his eyes squished up when he looked at me and I melted to a puddle on the inside.  I wanted him, I hopelessly wanted him, to the point of falling breathless when we spoke.  Oh, and his name was Matt.

       We had worked together on a few group projects and so we’d had conversation.  He had heard me read my poems, of course, which were mostly about my anger at my parents for never giving a damn about me.  I heard him read his poems, too, and at first they were about silly things like his political ideas and such.

       Then one afternoon, he changed everything.  I don’t know if he realized what he was doing when he did it.  But as he stood up in front of the club and glanced over the crowd his eyes fell on me for just a few more seconds than they should have before he began.

       The poem was about his heart breaking.  About his last girlfriend, who he had found cheating on him in an ally, deeply making out with another girl.  And when he’d found her, she only turned her head and laughed at him, telling him he was very feminine but not quite enough for her.

       I was instantly turned on.  His face had a deep frown on it but in his eyes I saw a sparkle.  He looked directly at me as everyone clapped for his poem and then went back to his seat, which today was nowhere near where I was.

       I went straight to him when club was over.  Tepidness is not something I have anywhere in my personality.         

       “That poem was amazing.” I said to him.  He glanced up at me with those irresistible eyes and then adverted them, a smile that was so hot it was almost a smirk coming across his face.

       “Thanks.” he said.

       “Is it true?” I asked, and he turned his face away, which on that day I thought was because he was trying not to cry.  But now I know better; I know that smile he wears and how he can’t keep it from his lips.

       “Yes.” he said. 

       “That’s horrible what she did to you.  I’m sorry.” I said, and he turned his face back toward me and stared down at the floor.  I’d had enough.  I was going to make him mine.

        “Hey, you wanna hang out sometime?” I asked, and his face rose to meet mine.  He looked into my eyes and I melted like jelly.  I was helpless.  I couldn’t tell if he knew that or not.

       “Sure.” he said, and my heart fluttered a million beats in that second.  “When?”

       I shrugged, trying to play cool, but neither of us could tear our eyes from each other.  His gaze bore into mine until I blinked, and then he looked away.

       “I’m free after school today.” I said, and he sighed.

       “I’m not; I have to baby-sit my cousin.”

       “Tomorrow?” I asked, and he nodded.

       “Where…where should we go?” was his next question, and I already knew I had him.  My bedroom, was my thought, but I didn’t want to scare him off.  And I was pretty sure, though my parents didn’t care what the hell I did when I wasn’t home, that they wouldn’t just let me bring a boy into my room.

       Boy.  The hottest, sexiest word in the English language, and that was what stood before me, his eyes downcast at the carpet, his delicious hair falling in his eyes, his delicious lips struggling with all his might not to smile.  And failing.

       “I guess we could just hang out behind the gym.” I said, which was where everyone hung out after school to either play basketball or handball against the flat wall of the school.

       “Sure.” he said, and then he rose his eyes to meet mine and his gaze was challenging, as if he was daring me to back down.  I smirked and looked at him directly back.  I have never backed down from any male. 

       The bell rang.

       “I’ll see you tomorrow, Nicky.” he said, and I nodded, staring at his ass as he turned away from me, though it was disappointingly covered by his too-loose jeans.

       

       I couldn’t concentrate on my homework.  I couldn’t sleep.  I got up ridiculously early and fretted over what to wear.  I was careful about my clothes; I never wanted to reveal to anyone what a sexual creature I really was, so I wore the most unflattering clothes imaginable.  Jeans that were too big, t-shirts that hung loose on me, to hide my body so that they wouldn’t know.  I had enough problems without the help.

       I wanted almost every boy I saw.  They were all inarguably delicious to me and I wanted all of them to be mine.  I was different from other girls.  Boys are supposed to want sex, girls are supposed to resist them and give them a hard time about getting it.  I knew, from the time I was twelve, that if any boy ever asked me for sex that he would get it.  Over and over until he begged me to stop.  And maybe I wouldn’t.  A smirk upturned the corner of my mouth as I thought of Matt begging it to end.  As I thought of him begging me for anything.  I shut my eyes as my breath shakily escaped my lips.  As if I could ever get so lucky.  I would be astonished if he even kissed me. 

       I dressed to put boys off because I was afraid of how badly I wanted them.  I knew that the way I was was socially ‘wrong’, from the time I was five years old.  I remember saying to another girl in my kindergarten class, “Wouldn’t you just love to see all the boys naked, tied up with ropes?”  The look of horrified shock on her face was enough to tell me to keep such thoughts to myself, and I did, for the rest of my life.  Her name was Megan, and she had never spoken to me again since that day.

       I could never explain why I was like this.  My parents were negligent, but they weren’t abusive.  They just plain left me alone.  My sister was normal; she had lots of friends and went out getting their hair done and shopping at the mall with them.  I had friends, too.  They were all male.  I hated females, I didn’t want them around, I didn’t want them moving in on my boys.  We got along great; we played baseball, we rode our dirt bikes, we built tree forts in the summer and played paintball.  We played video games and built snow forts in the winter.  That was until high school, when a lot of them started getting girlfriends.  We still hung out, now and then, but as they all moved forward in their relationships I was left in the dust, standing alone, the un-datable ‘tomboy’, as everyone thought I was.

       I rode the bus to school in a daze.  I only got to all of my classes because it was routine and my feet knew where I was going.  My mind was occupied by Matt; my eyes glued to the clock as the day wore on and poetry club grew closer and I would be able to see him.

       I walked into the library and was disappointed that he wasn’t there.  But I was early.  So I sat down on a couch in a spot that had plenty of space for him to sit next to me, if he so chose.  We weren’t officially friends, and it wasn’t expected of me to save him a seat, so I couldn’t exactly do that.  Other people sat around me and took up the couch space, and I grew disappointed.

       The bell rang and he rushed in late, his backpack bouncing as he scrambled in the door.  I knew it was uncool but I couldn’t resist from turning my face to look at him.  His eyes met mine instantly.  Did he have a thing for me, too?  I knew I couldn’t stare.  I turned my face back to the teacher.

       He walked across the entire room, in front of everyone, causing all eyes to stare at him so that he could sit in front of me on the floor.  At my feet.  He tossed his bag down and leaned his back against the arm of the couch as he sat with his knees bent up, his forearms resting on them, his elbow half an inch from my leg.  He didn’t look at me; he pretended this was just any other seat.  I knew it wasn’t.  My heart beat furiously.  I hoped my ears weren’t as beat red as they felt.  Everyone’s attention went back to the teacher, but I have no idea what he said.

       “Well this project sounds like he pulled it out of his ass ten minutes ago.” Matt said, without turning to look at me, but when I laughed I saw his cheek move up in that smile.  I turned to mush.

       It came time to break into groups, and Matt was not in mine.  He didn’t look at me or pay any attention to me as we worked on some stupid project about rhyming.  I forced myself not to glance over at him every five seconds, like I wanted to. 

       The torturous project ended.  We went back to our seats.  Matt was now sitting with his back not resting against the arm of the couch, but about two feet in, so that when I sat I had two choices: I could sit with my legs folded under myself on the couch, or I could put my feet on the floor, my legs wide apart, one on each side of him.  I don’t know if that was what he intended me to do; but I chose option B.  I sat down in my seat and put one leg down on the floor, on each side of him.  No part of me was touching him, but I saw his muscles tense and heard his breath catch in his throat.

       People started reading their poems, and Matt took out his sketch book.  He flipped to a it open and I saw delicious, dark creepy pencil drawings flash past as he turned to a blank page, which he held so that only I could see.

       He started to draw, the veins in his delicious hand moving along with his muscles as the pencil danced across the page at his will.  A form started to take shape, but at first I had a hard time guessing what it was.  His hair danced as it fell in his eyes, shaking just slightly with the motion of his hand as he drew, and I squinted, trying to make out the image, and my heart started to beat faster as my imagination guessed at what it was.  It looked like a young man, shirtless, wearing only jeans, but his position was unusual and Matt had only drawn him from the waste up, so it took me a moment to even guess at that.

       When I was certain that the form I imagined was indeed taking the shape I hoped, I thought I would pass out.  The boy’s hands were tied behind his back.  His head was hanging low, his hair, exactly like Matt’s, hiding his face in shadow.  Then Matt started to draw the boy from the waste down.  He was on his knees.  I thought my heart would stop beating, even as it flew off like a rocket.  The world vanished around me and all I saw was the overwhelmingly delicious image on the off-white page, and Matt’s gorgeous body between my legs, producing it. 

       Lastly, he drew another figure, this one not well-defined, vague on the details.  But it was clearly female, standing over him, behind him, looking down at him.

       “Stanson, you’re turn.” the teacher said, and Matt flipped the sketchbook closed, ending my delicious fantasy as he stood up and read some poem about economics.  I listened to his voice, drowned in his face as he would not look at me.  I was flabbergasted by his brilliance.  He was flirting with me, but he could easily deny it.  If I said anything, he could easily complain that I was a busybody for looking over his shoulder, and say nothing more about it.  If I said it was freaky and weird then he would know where I stood and he could dismiss it as “art”.  Yet he had let me know, with certainty, what he wanted.  I struggled not to cry with adoration and frustration.  Had he asked me in that moment to have sex with him right there on the couch in front of everyone, I would have said yes.  I was soaked between my legs.

       His poem ended.  He sat back down and shoved his sketchbook back into his backpack.  He didn’t look at me, but he settled himself back down between my legs.  Anyone paying attention would have known we had something going on, but it was impossible to tell how serious it was.  I had no idea how serious it was.  I clasped my hands to each other to keep them from shaking.

       The bell rang.  Everyone got up. 

       “So I’ll meet you behind the gym after school.” he said, and I wanted to tell him no, let’s get on your bus, go to your room, show me your bed.  But I nodded instead.

       “Yeah.” I replied, and we went our separate ways, lost from each other in the crowd.  The rest of the day was a blur to me.

       

       I went to my locker after the last bell and hurriedly pulled out the books I needed for homework.  I slammed it closed, my denim jacket in hand as it was spring and a nice sixty degrees outside.  I forced myself to only walk towards the gym exit, the slowness being torture, and as I stepped out into the sun I saw I was still one of the first people out there.  Two guys were shooting hoops off to my left and there was a group of kids sitting on the bleachers, watching them, but that was all.  I glanced around for a good place to sit and decided on the cement steps that led up to a walkway which went around to the front of the school, which no one ever used because a dirt path that cut a shorter distance got all the foot traffic.  It was next to the brick wall of the school, hidden in the shadows, where we belonged.  I tossed my bag down as nonchalantly as possible and stood with my arms crossed, leaning my back against the wall, shivering a little because the shade was still chilly.

       A few minutes later I saw him step out.  My heart raced with excitement as I realized that he came.  I saw him glance around and when he saw me he wore no expression, but shoved his hands in his jean pockets and walked over almost as if he was just going to walk around the school.  But when he got to where I stood he stopped, turned, and leaned his back against the wall five or six inches to my right, close enough to declare we were friends, and no closer.  My heart sank as he did not look at me.

       “Hey, Matt.” I said.

       “Hey, Nicky.” he answered.  His voice was delicious.  I shuddered. 

       “Your art is amazing.” I said, and I saw that smile come to his lips as he looked down at the pavement, staring at his feet.

       “Thanks.” he said, and nothing more.

       “When did you learn to draw?” I asked, and he sighed, almost as if he were disappointed.  He shrugged.

       “I started doodling when I was a little kid.  I took art classes in middle school and my teacher said I was really good, so I took Studio Art in ninth and tenth grade.  They taught us how to draw the human body.” he said, and I was positive he was flirting with me.  He leaned his head back against the wall, staring up at the sky.

       “You obviously paid attention to your lessons.” I said, and that smile sprang to his lips as he turned his head away.

       “Stop looking away.” I demanded, and I saw his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed and then slowly turned his head back, almost as if he were fighting against himself to look straight ahead again.

       “Why do you do that?” I asked.  He swallowed again.  He looked like he was in pain.

       “I’m afraid.” he said, and I raised one eyebrow.  Fear was an emotion I experienced rarely.

       “Of me?”

       He exhaled a quick laugh and stared at the ground, that smile back on his face.

       “Of chicks in general.” he said, and his voice came out shaky.  It was damn sexy.

       “Because of your last girlfriend?” I asked, and he squeezed his eyes shut, a pained look on his face.

       “I guess so.” he replied.  “More, I was always afraid they’d make fun of me, and then she did, totally humiliated …” his lips moved to say the word ‘me’, but no sound came out.

       “It was wrong of her to cheat on you.” I said.  “That’s disgusting and I don’t get why anyone would ever do it.  If you want to be with someone else, just dump them first, be fair.” I said firmly.  I would never do that to him; I would never hurt him like that.  He was precious, he was delicate, a thing to be treasured and handled just so.

       “Yeah, well.” he said.  I hesitated for two seconds.  I barley had a friendship with him and asking this now might ruin it.  But if he was going to say no, better sooner than later, I thought.  I took a breath.

       “I would treat you better than that.” I said.  Now it was out.  I had told him I wanted him.  What would he say?

       He inhaled sharply and closed his eyes, and turned his face away, which I now knew meant he was smiling that wickedly delicious smile.

       “Hey, let me see that smile.” I said, and he turned his face back, the smile growing on his lips. 

       “How would you treat me?” he asked, and I could hear in his voice it took every ounce of courage he had to ask that question.

       “However you want.” I said, and I knew it was true.  He was precious.  He was delicious.  I had to have him, and I would do whatever it took to get him.  He had complete power over me; except that he didn’t know it. 

       He exhaled, his breath shaky.

       “What did you think of the picture I drew for you?” he asked, and my knees shook and my heart beat faster at the phrase drew for you.  For me.  He drew it for me. 

       “I thought it was amazingly sexy.” I said, and he squeaked and turned around so that he rested his forehead against the brick wall.  I looked down and saw a slight bulge in his jeans and I nearly started to drool.  Then he sniffled and I saw a tear on his cheek. 

       “You’re not kidding, you’re not making fun of me, you’re not joking…” he whimpered.

       “No.” I said, firmly.  “Now stand up and look me in the eyes.”

       He did as he was told, and I thought I would pass out from desire as I gazed into his delicious, sexy brown eyes, with a little river of tears running down each cheek. 

       “If you’re kidding me, my heart will break into a thousand pieces and I’ll kill myself.” he said.  My hands immediately flew to his precious face, shaking, holding his cheeks gently in my palms as I let my worry show.

       “No!  No, no, you can’t do that.” I said.  “I won’t let you.  I’m not joking.”  I inhaled.  Now was the time for the utter truth.  “I think you’re the damn sexiest boy I’ve ever seen; I want to have you, I want to keep you, I want to show you how hot you really are.”

       He whimpered and closed his eyes tightly, his nostrils flaring with want, the bulge in his pants growing a little more, his penis restricted by the jeans which I suddenly wanted to tear off of him.  I brushed the tears away from his face.

       “Show me.” he demanded, and I felt compelled to obey, right there, beside the school.  Somehow, I kept my head.

       “Kiss me.” I ordered, and his hands shook as he placed his palms on my cheeks and pulled my face towards his.  My heart pounded a thousand times a minute as his delicious lips slid over mine, slowly, gently, over and over, he didn’t stop, it wasn’t one kiss but twenty.  It was slow, his intoxicating scent wafting over me and I felt wetness gush from between my legs as he pushed my back against the brick wall, moving the rest of his body close.  My heart started to fly to new levels when he pressed his whole body onto me and I could feel his dick pressing into me between my legs, his chest crushed against my breasts, his fingers sliding up to tangle themselves in my hair.  I reached behind him and grabbed his ass, pulling him closer to me, ready to melt.

       He stopped kissing me for a moment and gazed down into my eyes with seriousness.

       “Is this too much?” he whispered, and I squeezed his ass, pulling him closer to me.

       “More.” I said, and he obeyed, this time letting his tongue slide out between his scrumptious lips.  I opened my mouth and searched the inside of his with my tongue, pushing his tongue out of the way as I searched inside of him, and he gasped at my forcefulness and I felt him grow harder.  To anyone watching, it was impossible to tell that the control of the situation had just switched to me.  I lifted up one of my hands, still crushing his ass to me with the other, and put it on the back of his head, so he could not escape.  He groaned in my mouth, the sound of his voice vibrating through my head, and I felt soaking wetness pour out of me and I knew that my ears were beet, beet red.

       I let him pull away and he stepped back, leaving me free.

       “Does this mean we’re together?” he asked, but it sounded more like pleading.  I smiled seductively at him.

       “Is that what you want?” I asked, growing hotter, remembering my fantasy of seeing him beg.

       “Yes.” he asked.

       “Convince me this is a good idea.” I said, and that smile that he seemed to have absolutely no control over sprang to his lips.  I decided it would be better if I didn’t let him know how much power that smile had over me.  If he gave me that smile, I would do anything for him.  I’d strip for him now, outside, in front of everyone, if he asked me with that smile on his lips.

       “We could make that picture real.” he said, his voice suddenly strong and powerful as my knees turned to jelly and I could barley stand up.

       “Is that a promise?” I asked, and he moaned as his eyes rolled back in his head.

       “Oh, God, you really mean this…” he said.

       “I asked you if that was a promise.” I replied, and he snapped his attention back to me and lust surged through my veins as I felt the power I had over him. 

       “Yes.” he hissed through his teeth, his face covered in lust and desire.

       “Matt,” I said, my heart pounding furiously, the red in my cheeks giving me away as the bulge in his jeans gave him away, “I am going to strip off your shirt, tie your hands behind your back as you fall to your knees in front of me?”

       He looked about ready to pass out.

       “Please…” he said softly, and my hammering heart threatened to break free of my chest.

       “Prove you want it.  Kiss me again.”

       He had me crushed against the wall, his tongue deep inside my mouth before I had a chance to utter another word.  He kissed me when I commanded him and the surge of want in me was tremendous.  I wanted to command more things from him.  I wanted him to beg more things from me.  I was soaked between my legs.  I was helpless to him, but he did not know it.

       His delicious lips caressed mine over and over, his tongue dancing inside my mouth, his overwhelming scent wafting down over me, and I knew we were doomed.  We both wanted each other helplessly too much.  We had no choice about it; we were irreversibly together.

       He pulled back and this time made no attempt whatsoever to hide the smirking, delicious half-smile from his face.

       “Now when will we do this?” I asked, and his breathing increased.

       “Anytime you want.” he replied.  “I’m free tonight.” he offered.

       “No, I want you to dream about it for a little while, first.” I said, and he moaned and nearly collapsed on top of me, his forehead resting on the brick wall so that his ear was next to my lips, which was perfect.

       “Think about it over and over,” I whispered, letting my lips brush his ear, “while you’re in bed at night, when you’re in the shower, when you jerk off in your room, think about it, me tying you up, you begging from me…think about what you want to beg for.” I said, and he whimpered and then he did collapse, on top of me, and I held him up, his body so desirable I had a hard time not passing out myself.  The heat in me was immeasurable.  I had never felt such pleasure in my life.

       “How long will I wait?” he finally squeaked out, completely submissive, completely open to whatever amount of time I chose for him.  But what he didn’t know was that I wanted this as badly as he did.  For as long as I tortured him with waiting, I tortured myself as well.

       “A week.” I said, and he shuddered and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close to him.  “And in that week, you do whatever I say, whatever I tell you, or this doesn’t happen.”

       It was a complete and total lie.  He could act however he wanted, if he wanted me to tie him up, I would.

       “I’ll do whatever you say forever.” he answered, and I knew without a doubt that he meant it.

       “Good.  Now where will we do this?” I asked.  I knew my parents always went out late on Friday nights, but then I’d have to change the timetable to a week and a half, and I just didn’t want to wait that long.

       “My room.” he said, and I thought I’d fall to the cement in a puddle of want.  “I live in the basement of my parents’ house, they sound proofed a studio down there for me so I could practice my guitar without bothering them.”
       He had a sound proof bedroom in a basement.  I was going to die.

       “Do you drive?” I asked, and that smirk came back to his lips instantly.

       “Yes.” he said.  “Do you?”

       “I don’t have a car.” I replied, and his smirk turned into a full-blown, very seductive smile.

       “Then looks like I have the power where we go.” he said.  “I like this idea very much.”

       So did I, and I knew from his face that he could tell.  I suddenly wanted him to take me, right there, fuck me against the wall as hard as he could, over and over.

       “Nicky, how much do you know about this kind of thing?” he asked.

       “What, submissive dominant relationships, or bondage?”

       I thought he would pass out from pleasure.

       “Oh, God, you know the words…”

       “I know plenty, I mean, I’ve read plenty, but I’ve never gotten lucky enough to be in one before.”

       He started shaking.

       “Me…either…” he said, his breaths coming so quickly he could barley speak.  “Which…is…this…?” he asked.  I glanced up at his delicious face.

       “You will do whatever I tell you.” I said firmly, and he nodded.  And I caved completely.  “And I will do whatever you ask of me.” I replied softly, gently, and his hands shook.  “Because I can’t resist you; you are too sexy.” I said.  He started to cry.

       “You are a baby, though.” I said at his tears, and I saw that smile spring to his lips.  It made me helpless in my shoes.

       “I can’t help it; I’ve never felt such things in my life…I barley know you, I can’t believe the things I’ve told you…I’m terrified.” he said, his voice barley above a whisper.  I wanted to cuddle him, to pull him into my arms and pet him and stroke him and comfort him.  His heart was precious.  He was adorable. 

       Instead I lifted his chin with the tip of my pointer finger, though I had no nails so the gesture was still fairly soft.  He looked into my eyes.

       “Matt Stanson, I promise you that no matter what happens between us, I will not betray you.” I said.  “Nobody will ever know this secret but you and me.”

       More tears spilled from his eyes.

       “Now pull yourself together or else people will start to stare.” I said, and he nodded, and obeyed.  He wiped the tears away with his sleeves and no more fell.

       “Her name was Melanie.” he said.  “And she didn’t know.  You already know more than she ever did…”

       “Damn straight.  I will know everything about you; you are mine.” I said, and as the words left my lips I shuddered with pleasure.  I saw him accept it.  I thought I would drool onto the sidewalk. 

       “She used to play with my heart; stand me up for dates, tell me she would come over and then go out with her friends instead and then the next day when I asked her where she was she’d be like ‘Oh, was I supposed to see you?’” and she would have parties and not invite me and then tell me how fun it was…”

       “I will never play with your heart.” I said to him.  “I think I might like to play with your mind…”

       His crooked smile showed me his agreement on that.

       “And definitely I will play with your body…”

       His smile grew uncontrollably wider as I traced my eyes down to his bulge and then back up to his face.

       “But your heart is precious.  I will take precious care of it.” I said.  He closed his eyes and sighed softly.

       “Good, because I’m already hopelessly under your spell…”

       And I was hopelessly under his, but I was going to hide that from him for as long as I could.

       I heard movement around us and realized people were starting to walk our way, to get to the late busses.

       “I guess I have to go.” I said, and he nodded.  The thought of him driving me home that first day didn’t occur to either of us for some reason, perhaps because we still needed to think about what we were getting ourselves into.  Though neither of us really had much of a choice. 

       I bent down and picked up my backpack, and he followed my example, tossing his over his shoulder as we walked.  Other kids were around us now, so the type of conversation we’d been having had to end.

       “Oh, wait.  I need your phone number.” I said, pulling my phone out of my pocket as he pulled out his.  I told him my number and then he told me his.  Instead of entering his name for it, I labeled the number “Mine.”  I showed it to him and his crooked smile sprang to life. 

       All I had was a little cheap flip phone that could barely text; he had a touch screen, with full internet access.  I raised my eyebrow at it.  He smiled shyly, though it was not that intoxicating smile that made me helpless. 

       “Oh.  I’m rich.” he said.  “I hate it.” he added as he saw my face.  I sighed.

       “Well I’m like, almost poor.” I said, mostly because my parents never bothered to give me anything, not even lunch money or new clothes.  Every pair of jeans I had was at least two years old, and they were all a little too short on me.

       “Well then.  One more way I can service you.” he said, and my knees turned to jelly and I thought I would trip over my own feet. 

       I put my phone away and stopped walking as we reached the point where I would have to go to the busses, and he to the student parking lot.  Kids shoved past us on both sides, but no one was paying us much attention.

       “You haven’t given me my instructions yet.” he said, his eyes sparkling, almost pleading to be told what to do in order to earn his reward.

       “From now on you will always sit by me in poetry club.  You can sit behind me, with me nestled between your legs, or on the floor between my legs like to did today, but it will always be in some sexual way, like a good boyfriend, to let people know we are together.” I said, and I thought he was going to pass out from pleasure.

       “Oh, yes.” he said, took a step forward, and then stopped.  “Can I kiss you?” he asked, and my heart danced wildly in my chest.

       “You may kiss me whenever you wish, without asking for permission, unless otherwise instructed.” I said.  I did not, in any way, want to reduce the number of kisses from Matt.  I had kissed a few boys, been on a few dates, but nothing compared to this at all.  His lips were on mine, his tongue deep in my mouth, some people ‘oohing’ and making cat calls at us as they walked past.  We both smiled, which ruined the kiss, but I thought that was adorable. 

       “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.” he said, and I nodded.

       “Dream about it.” I told him, and he moaned softly and shut his eyes with pleasure.  “That also is instructions.”

       He nodded wordlessly as his eyes opened, and the busses started their engines.  I backed away from him, turned, and disappeared onto my bus, knowing that I was not the same person I had been this morning, nor would I ever be again.

       I was too excited to sleep.  I turned my phone over and over and over in my hands, dying to call him and knowing that it was too soon.  Not yet.  I hoped he would not call me; if he did, I decided I would not answer.  We needed to be apart right now, for tonight, to sort this out in our own minds.

       I wanted him desperately.  I dreamed about how I would do it; how I would remove his shirt, how I would tie his wrists together with rope, lots and lots of it, wind it around his wrists over and over so he could not escape, wrapping it up his forearms, pulling them close together behind his bare, muscled back.  Of pushing him to his knees and ordering him to beg from me.  In my dreams he begged for it all; he begged me to own him, to kiss his skin, to kiss his dick, to lick my nipples, to suck my clitoris, to have sex with me, any way I wanted.  I told him he could, he could have all of those things, but first he had to let me spank him, pinch his nipples, bite his dick, squeeze his balls until he couldn’t take it and then a little bit more. 

       I had no idea why I was this way.  Neither of my parents had ever laid a hand on me;  I remembered being spanked once, when I was five, for running out in the street and nearly getting hit by a car.  But I had always wanted to hurt things I liked, to control them.  My parents had gotten me an adorable pet bunny for my sixth birthday, and he was so cute and precious that I felt compelled to bite his ear.  He screamed (yes, a rabbit can scream), and when my parents asked what happened I told them.

       “I bit his ear.”

       “Nicky, why would you do that?” my mother asked, pulling the bunny out of my arms.  I stared at her, dumbfounded, because I had absolutely no idea.  I still had no idea.  But I knew the idea of biting Matt made me soaking wet between my legs.  I glanced at the clock.  It was nearly midnight.  I picked up my phone and quickly texted him, hoping that he slept with his phone on, so that if he was already asleep it would wake him.  I decided that would be his new instructions for tomorrow; to always have his phone on.  I had to be able to reach him to control him.

       I sent the text.

       Dream about it. 

       I closed my eyes with a smile on my face as I imagined how hard reading that would make him get.

       The next day he was waiting for me when I got off the bus.  I tried my damndest not to smile like an idiot when I saw him, and I failed.  He saw this.  He uncontrollably smiled back as I reached him.

       “Did you get my text?” I asked, and he blushed and the corner of his mouth turned up.  I couldn’t believe it; yesterday had been real.  He was mine.

       “Yes.” he said.

       “Good.  Your new instructions are that you will keep your phone on at all times, you will never turn it off, and you will always answer it when I call no matter what you are doing, no matter where you are.”

       I saw his cheeks and ears flush red with pleasure.

       “Yes…” he hesitated, looking around us at everyone.  No one was paying any particular attention to us, but if they overheard the wrong thing, that could certainly change.

       He stared into my eyes, then turned and walked inside and pulled me towards an isolated wall.  I shouldn’t have liked following him, I shouldn’t have allowed him to lead me; but I loved it.  I hoped he would lead me straight to a janitor’s closet, lock me inside and steal my virginity.

       Instead he turned to face me, an irresistible look of need on his face.

       “I need you call you something.” he said.  He obviously meant something other than my name.

       “Like what?” I asked.  He winced.

       “I…don’t know.  But when I say yes to your…instructions…you should have a name.” he said, fumbling for words.  “something different from your regular name…”
       It came to me.  It was perfect; it was even appropriate during school.

       “You will call me by my full name, Nicole.” I said.  His crooked smile appeared and I knew he liked it.  I realized that smile only came when he was turned on by something, and the fact that it came so often made me cum all over my underpants already.  I started to think of it as his acceptance smile.  If I saw it on him, then I knew I had gotten it right.

       “Also, you will never call me, ever, unless instructed.  If you want my attention you can text me.”

       “Yes, Nicole.” he said, his eyes squeezed shut as his ears turned flaming red and his acceptance smile grew out of control.  I could see how hard he was already.  I wondered if I should continue; we were at school.

       “Can you handle another one?” I asked gently, softly, so he would know it was perfectly fine to say no.

       “Let’s find out.” was his answer.  I smiled.

       “When we are together you will always hold my hand, sweetly, like a good precious boyfriend.” I said, and his breathing grew rapid as I called him that and he clasped his fingers into fists as he tried to fight the raging heat that flew through him.  I struggled to remain standing myself; the sight of him in so much want, so easily under my control, was intoxicating.

       “Yes, Nicole.” he squeaked, and we were both at our breaking point and I knew we had to stop.

       “We have to get to class.” I said, in a different tone of voice, not demanding at all.  He nodded.

       “Yeah.” he said.  He reached out his hand for me.  I took it, my heart fluttering like I was in middle school and had never held a boy’s hand before.  And in a way, I never had.  I suddenly decided that every boy I’d ever been with before didn’t count.  There were no kisses like his kisses, there was no touch like his touch.  His hand was soft and warm and delicious.  I wanted to kiss it.  I decided I would do that, at some point; kiss every one of his precious, delicious fingers.

       “What are you doing today after school?” I asked.

       “Whatever you tell me to.” he replied, and I shuddered with desire.

       “I want to see your room.”

       “Yes, Nicole.” he said softly, and he moaned. 

       “Oh my gosh, would you look at the new couple!”  Hannah Rosenfield said, the biggest gossip in the school, and a few people turned to stare at us as we walked down the hall.

       “What, Matt Stanson and Nicky Tiller!?!”  Andrea shouted, her perfectly straight blonde hair swishing as she turned her head to stare at us.  Other kids looked and I smiled proudly.  Matt gave his most seductive, adorable smile, with the one dimple showing, and I knew other girls were jealous.  I knew how hot he was.  And he was mine. 

       He squeezed my hand to show me that he was mine.  I sighed inwardly with happiness.  Some kids stared with confusion, obviously flabbergasted that a boring tomboy like me wound up with a hot stud like Matt.  If only they knew.

       He let me lead him wherever I wanted, and we wound up at my locker, where he held my books for me as I changed them around.  It made me wet just him doing that small favor for me.  He walked me to my first period class and as I went to walk in, he didn’t let go of my hand.  Instead he pulled me towards him forcefully, planting a delicious kiss on my lips, my heart flying wildly as he took control and I loved it.  He glanced down at me with shining eyes.

       I realized I didn’t know where to find him between now and poetry club, which was sixth period.  The bell rang.  He was going to be late; he was going to get in trouble, and that idea made me very, very hot.

       “You will write down your schedule for me so I know where to find you.”

       “Yes, Nicole.” he said, that irresistible smirk on his lips as I turned and left him standing in the hallway as I went into my classroom.

       Class was worse torture than usual.  It dragged by.  After the bell rang I hurried to the hall and waited by the door for a moment, hoping he would come by.  He didn’t.  I grew disappointed and realized that once I left the door to this first classroom, he wouldn’t know where to find me, either, until poetry club.  The minutes ticked by and I was left with no choice but to leave, and second period lasted longer than first.

       Even lunch was torture.  He did not have lunch during the same time I did.  I sat at my usual table and I got a little happiness from the rumors that had spread.

       “Hey, Nicky.” Roger said as I sat down, his neatly cut, perfect spiky blonde hair attracting my eyes as it usually did. 

       “Sup Roger.” I said.

       “I heard you got a boyfriend.” he said, winking at me, thinking it was a rumor or a misunderstanding.  We’d known each other for four or five years, since middle school, and he clearly expected that if I had a boyfriend, he would know.  In fact, I realized as I looked down at the table of my friends, all males, of course, that they all were staring at me expectantly waiting for my answer.  They were all listening to me; they were all under my control for a moment.  I shuddered with heat.

       “You heard correctly.” I said, with a  huge grin, and the shocked looks on their faces was priceless, perfect.  Roger’s mouth fell open.

       “For real?” he asked, and I grinned and nodded, sitting down.

       “For real.”

       “Is it really Matt Stanson?” he asked and I nodded, trying to pretend that I wasn’t enjoying this conversation as much as I was, glad for the moment that I was not male; if I had been, my dick would have been inconcealably huge.  I smirked.

       “It’s really Matt Stanson.” I said, taking a bite of my food.  I saw a little bit of hurt on Roger’s face.  We had kissed once and I’d thought that was going somewhere, but then he went on a date with Rhonna Fischer the next week and I was done with him.  I would not be taken advantage of.

       “It just started yesterday.” I said to him, and he seemed to relax.  He’d only been out of the loop for a short while.

       “Yesterday, huh?  When did he ask you?  I didn’t even know you knew him.”

       I shrugged, pretending it was all nothing to me, as a boyfriend of one day should have been.

       “We met in poetry club.” I said.  “We hung out after school.  He kissed me.  It was delicious.”

       Some of the other boys at the table said “ooooh,” and their faces grew delighted at the word ‘delicious’.  It was a good word, almost as hot as the word ‘boy’ itself.  I saw the hurt on Roger’s face.  Good.

       “A kiss doesn’t necessarily mean…”

       “Then he asked me if we were together.”  I said, and I didn’t report my real response, which had been ‘Convince me this is a good idea.’  Which he had, of course.  “I obviously said ‘yes’.”

       Roger frowned.

       “But you barley know him.  Why would you say yes?”

       I grinned.  Oh, I knew him.

       “Have you seen Matt Stanson?  He is deliciously hot.” I said, and was satisfied to see the mouths drop open on half the faces at the table. 

       “I…uh…wouldn’t know.” Roger said, and I laughed, taking more bites of my food.

       “Well, congratulations, then.” he said, conceding defeat.  As if he ever had a chance.  I thought of Matt’s drawing in my mind again, thought of his voice, his smell.  No other boy had a chance.  I was his.  I shuddered at the idea of him owning me.  Of him hovering over me as I lay on his bed, his hands pinning my arms down, his naked body glistening with sweat as he pushed his penis up deep inside my body.  I nearly passed out during lunch.

       I had one more torturous class to last through and then it was time for poetry club.  The bell rang.  I gathered my things and hurriedly rushed through the halls towards the library.  I was severely disappointed to find that he was not there yet.  I walked over to the same spot on the couch I’d had yesterday and sat down, and waited and waited and waited as the seats filled up, until the bell rang and he still wasn’t there and I started to worry.

       I started to panic.  Maybe he’d gotten cold feet.  Maybe the whole thing had been him playing a joke on me, to humiliate me, to draw out my secret to expose me.  I thought about his mannerisms, the way he spoke, the way he grew hard and decided that was impossible.  No, what we had was real.  He had a reason for being late.

       The teacher started to talk.  I forced myself to look in his direction.  It was awful.

       Finally, I saw the library door open out of the corner of my eye, and I turned my face and it was him.  I did not smile at him.  I was going to make it clear that I was not happy.  He walked across the room, in front of the whole class, to get to the far side where I was.  He stepped over a few people and I did not move an inch, indicating  that he was to sit at my feet, between my legs.

       He sat there promptly, everyone staring at us for a few seconds, and then the teacher continued.  He didn’t scold because this wasn’t a class; it was poetry club and it was fine to come or not come.  I put my hands on his shoulders firmly, close to his neck, and leaned down towards his ear.

       “You will arrive on time if you want to sit next to me, like a good precious boyfriend.” I whispered in his ear, and his ears turned flaming red and his breathing became ragged.  “I may have to punish you.” I said, desperately trying to hold my voice steady through the want I felt.  I watched him close his eyes and knew he was struggling, with all his might, not to get an erection, and this turned me on even more.  I was dripping cum, to the point that I could smell it, and I wondered if he knew what that smell was as his head rested on the seat of the couch, three inches from my crotch.  I realized I did not know if he was a virgin.  If he wasn’t, that would be a problem, because that gave him more experience than I had. 

       He turned his face so that his lips were two inches from my ear.

       “Yes, Nicole.” he whispered, and I thought I would faint from want.  He realized this and took advantage of his momentary power, taking the lobe of my ear between his lips and licking it once, softly.  I moaned gently in his ear, too quietly for anyone else to hear, and then sat back up, my hands still on his shoulders.  I squeezed my legs closer so that they surrounded his body, and I wanted to never, ever have to move.

       He was not in my group again and I had the feeling that he never would be, since the teacher now knew we had a thing.  As we finished the project and were settling down again, he reached into his backpack and handed me a folded piece of paper.  I opened it and saw he had written his schedule out for me, as I had asked him.  I ran my hand through his impossibly hot black hair with approval as I read it through.

       “I’ll meet you at your locker after school?” he asked as class ended.

       “Yeah, that sounds good.” I said.  I turned to walk away and then I felt his arms around my waist, pulling me close to him.  He leaned his head down over my shoulder so his lips were brushing against my ear as he held me, pinned to his chest, my heart beating furiously with desire.

       “You never set rules about where I could kiss you.” he said, and he brushed his lips down my neck and I shuddered, even as people were watching.  I was powerless to stop him.  It felt more amazing than anything I’d ever known in my life; his arms pinning me to his sexy body were the most heavenly restraints I could think of and I did not even attempt to fight him.  I heard kids whispering and I felt proud that I had what they didn’t.  A cocky smile came to my lips and Matt laughed softly when he saw it.

       “I guess I’m not the only one.” he said, releasing me to my great disappointment.  I had a burning question to ask him that I could not say aloud in school.  It would have to wait until later. 

       “See you later, Nicky.” he said, and he turned and left me standing there, my cheeks flushed, my heart beating it’s life away faster than ever.

       I could not concentrate on school at all.  I just didn’t care.  I waited, torturously, for the time to pass until school finally, finally ended.  I ran to my locker.  He was there first, a predatory look in his eyes that made my bones melt.  He was leaning directly against my locker, so that I could not get to it.

       “Move out of the way.” I instructed, and that seductive, wanting smile came to his lips, though I swore it was even more lustful than usual.  He delayed a second before responding.

       “Yes, Nicole.” he said, getting up off my locker.  He stood ever so close to me as my clammy fingers dialed the numbers wrong three times before I finally got it open. 

       “Hold my books, please.” I said.

       “No.” he replied, and I looked at him and raised my eyebrow. 

       “Do you not want your prize on Tuesday?” I asked, and he licked his lips, his eyes shining.

       “You said I have to do whatever you command, not whatever you ask.” he said.  “And you asked nicely.”

       I couldn’t believe how hot I was.  Cum poured out between my legs as I gazed into his burning stare.  He smiled and I thought I would become a puddle on the floor.

       “You will hold my books.” I said.

       “Yes, Nicole.” he replied, holding out his arms as I dumped my books onto them, and I really started to wonder who was in charge between us.  Sometimes it felt like me.  Right now, it was certainly him.  I realized I got hot either way, and so did he.  I was dying to see his room.  I was dying to be in his bed, in the soundproof basement of his rich house.

       I finished switching out my books and zipped up my back pack.

       “Are you ready?” he asked, his voice suddenly totally normal as he held out his hand sweetly for me.  I took it with a cute smile, enjoying the stares of everyone who saw us together. 

       I did not know where his car was, so he had to lead me.  I could tell he loved this situation, and he savored it, because once I knew which car was his this first time, he could never lead me blindly to it like this again.  We walked up the hill, away from the busses, around the building to the student parking lot.  We stepped off the curb and wove through the cars, and then he stopped in front of a hot, sexy, black Corvette.

       His grin stretched from ear to ear.

       “This is your car.” I stated, one eyebrow raised.  He produced a set of keys from his pocket and unlocked the door, holding it open for me.  I got in and he slammed it closed.  I stared at the gorgeous, spotlessly clean leather interior as he walked around to the driver’s side.  I couldn’t believe the amazing boy I had, and he came with a cool car, now, too.  I was living a dream.

       He opened his door and got in.

       “What do you think?” he asked.

       “We will be having sex in your back seat.” I said.  Somehow he managed to smile wider.

       “Yes, Nicole.” he said, and he turned the ignition.  The car purred to life and he pulled out carefully, turning his head around to fully look behind him as he backed out.

       “Did your parents pay for this?” I asked.

       “Sort of.  My dad did.”

       “Do you live with both your parents?” I asked as he drove, very coolly with one hand out onto the side street that led to the school.

       “No.  My mom moved out when I was seven.  My dad married my bitch of a stepmother when I was eleven.”

       “That sucks.” I said.  He said nothing as we approached the main road.  He turned to me, a daring spark in his eyes.

       “Do you like to go fast, Nicole?” he asked, using my full name, meaning he was asking my permission.  Just the sound of him asking my permission for anything made me burn with want between my legs.

       “I don’t know.  I’ve never had the pleasure.” I said.  He raised his eyebrows and winked at me.

       “Oh, I’ll show you pleasure.” he responded, and he hit the gas, squishing my back against the seat as the car raced up the highway.  He caught up to the busses and waved out the window at the kids stuck on them, and I beamed, the girl with the hot boyfriend in the cool car, racing down the highway.

       I said nothing and just let him drive, and I could tell he loved to go fast.  He savored it, weaving between lanes, darting around slow cars, getting dirty looks from old ladies.  He had a burning in his eyes and a smile on his face, but it wasn’t that lustful, seductive smile that I gave him.  It was just a regular, I-love-my-car smile. 

       “You like the power.” I asked eventually, and he grinned in response.

       “So,” I said, and he glanced over at me but at the speed he was going, he had to keep his eyes focused on the road.  “Are you submissive or dominant?” I asked, and his lustful smirk appeared instantly.

       “Yes.” he replied, and my heart beat wildly out of control and my breath could not keep up with it.

       

       Of course it wasn’t too long of a ride, though he did live on the edges of the school district.  We arrived about fifteen minutes later and I knew the neighborhood.  Us regular, non-rich kids always went trick-or-treating around here on Halloween, because the rich stay-at-home moms always answered the doors and gave us good candy.  That was my only experience going down this block, and when we passed by what looked like to me a line of huge mansions, my heart fluttered when he stopped in front of one.  It was white, with a wide, half-circle front stoop with four columns rising up to support the overhang over the door, which had a rail around it to make it look like a balcony.  Matt parked his car in a second, side driveway, away from the garage, and then walked around to open my door for me.  I stared up at the huge house.

       “Don’t worry;” he said, “my part of the house is normal.”

       I raised an eyebrow at him, because what was normal about saying “my part of the house?”  Kids had rooms, as in one, if they were lucky enough to not have to share it with a sibling.

       “You have any brothers or sisters?” I asked him as he took my hand- following my rule- and led me around through a back gate as we disappeared from the neighborhood behind a tall wooden fence.

       “Nope.” he said.  “Just me.”

       He led me down three cement stairs, underneath a deck that was up on the second story of the house, and to a regular, three-paneled wooden door.  He pulled out his keys and opened it, leading me in a doorway through which I would pass many, many times.

       I saw what looked like an actual living room, or a den, at least.  There was a very elaborate entertainment system on the wall with a comfortable-looking and worn off-white couch facing it.  There was a drawing table in the back, with an artist’s lamp bent over it.  He led me past a bathroom and through another door, and we were in his room.

       The first thing my eyes caught sight of was the two electric guitars leaning against the wall between a three-foot wide amplifier.  Wires snaked between them and a bunch of other sound equipment, and my eyes followed the cords to the wall where they were all plugged into a long strip surge protector.  The walls were covered in silver, sound-proof padding, as he had promised, with posters of various bands pinned to it.  And there was his bed, a typical high school boy’s bed, navy blue sheets with a medium blue comforter crumpled on top of it in a heap, along with a very old, flattened out pillow.

       To the right of the door was a regular desk, which was covered in sheet music.  His floor, I realized, was picked up, and I knew he had done that for my benefit.  I turned to look at him, suddenly nervous, though I was sure I didn’t show it.

       “What do you think?” he asked.  I turned around to face him, hardly able to believe where I was.  I was in his nest, in his most private place, secluded from the world except for the two of us, and we were alone.

       And he would do whatever I asked him to.

       “I think this is very promising.” I said, and I saw heat rise in his pale cheeks.  “You will kiss me, now.” I ordered, and he pulled me to him, his lips irresistibly delicious as they caressed mine, over and over, his taste intoxicating, his smell drowning me, erasing all my thoughts.  I wrapped my arms around his back and pulled him close to me, where I could feel that his heart was racing as impossibly fast as mine.  I pulled away from the kiss, my eyes half closed.

       “I need to know the answer to some questions.” I stated, pulling away from him so we were about three feet apart. “You will answer truthfully.”

       “Yes, Nicole.”

         He waited.

        “Are you a virgin?”  I said it with as much confidence as possible.

       “No.”

       “How many girls have you had sex with?”

       He paused.  His mouth moved, but he said nothing.  I tapped my foot and crossed my arms.

       “You have until I count to five to answer.” I said.  “One…two…thr…”

       “Wait.” he said, his voice becoming a little panicky, and I felt smug as I knew I was back in control again.  “It’s just a trick question.” he said.  I raised my eyebrow.

       “Explain.”

       He bit his lower lip.

       “You asked me how many girls I’ve had sex with.  A better question, though I’m definitely not telling you what you should ask me, not at all, but a better question might be ‘how many people I’ve had sex with.”

       I swallowed nervously.  Was he gay?  How could he be?  Bisexual, maybe?  That would have been fine.  So long as I turned him on, I didn’t care.

       “Have you had sex with boys?” I asked.  He wrinkled his nose.

       “No.”

       I raised my eyebrow again.

       “You had better simply explain.”

       He nodded, inhaled deeply, and replied.

       “I’ve had sex with one girl and one woman.”

       He stared down at the floor, absolutely completely ashamed, and his dick must have been hard as a rock with the way it caused a bulge in his jeans.

       “Who?” I demanded.

       “The girl was Melanie.”  His ex.  Okay, fine.

       “And…?”

       His eyes flashed up to mine for a moment and then fell back down to the floor in utter shame, which appeared to be turning him on as his ears grew beat red.

       “Please don’t make me tell you right now…”

       His voice shook with pleading, and it made me very hot and very wet.

       “Beg me not to.  On your knees.”

       He fell to his knees at once and I smiled at the sight.  It was delicious.

       “Please don’t make me tell you today.” he said, his eyes downcast at the floor.

       “Beg harder.”

       He looked up at me, his eyes seriously pleading, and folded his hands together as I glared down at him with crossed arms.

       “Nicole the answer to that question reveals too much about me all at once and I will tell you, you may know everything about me, but I just need to keep this secret for a little while longer before I completely humiliate myself in front of you, please don’t make me tell you just yet, please, I’ll do anything you ask otherwise, please don’t take away my reward for disobeying, you can punish me any way you like.”

       He had tears in his eyes.  His entire body became delicious to me.  The things he was saying turned me on to an impossible level of hotness.  I wanted more of him.  I wanted to see just how much power over him he gave me.

       “Remove your shirt.” I said, and he easily obeyed, pulling the black t-shirt over his head, letting it fall to the floor.  It revealed a delicious body, muscles toned but not too much, skin that was white and pale but not sickly, a little bit of chest hair that made him very sexy.  I could not take my eyes off his body; his shoulders gleaming in the lamplight, his biceps round though relaxed, his stomach showing some shape, though it wasn’t exactly a six-pack.  I heard myself moan and his head snapped up as his eyes met mine.

       “We have a problem, but this situation can be corrected.” I said.  “You have more sexual experience than I do; this does not suit our needs.  You will take my virginity from me now.”

       His breath became husky and he stared at me with wide-eyed astonishment.  His lips moved but no sound came out.  Finally he blabbered out,

       “Now?”

       “Do you refuse my command?”

       He shook his head quickly, still on his knees, the most delicious sight I ever saw.

       “No!  No, I don’t refuse!” he said, his breath coming fast, his chest heaving as he shifted, trying to give his swollen dick more space in the constraint of his pants.  “I just…I don’t have any condoms.” he said.

       I had no power over the lustful smirk that came to my face.  I couldn’t believe he would do it.  I was about to get it; the thing I was after since I was five.  With Matt, the hottest, most delicious boy I had ever seen.

       “Then I think you need to go shopping.” I said.  He rose immediately to his feet and went to replace his shirt.

       “Leave your shirt off.” I said.

       “But they won’t let me in the drugstore without…”

       “Wear your jacket over your bare, naked chest.  They’ll never know.  You are not to replace your shirt.”

       He let it drop to the floor with ease, that lustful, heart-melting smile coming to his lips.

       “How badly do you want me?” he asked, coming closer.

       “You will find out when you return with condoms.” I said, amazed that I was able to keep my voice from cracking with desire.  He looked down at me with lust in his eyes and I knew I had him as badly as he had me.  We were hopeless.  My heart raced with excitement.

       “You’re not coming with me?” he asked.

       “No; I’ll stay here and make myself very, very hot, and when you come back you better satisfy me.” I said.  His crooked smirk grew.

       “Oh, I will.” he said, tossing on his coat and walking out the door. 

       I hadn’t realized what I’d done until after the door shut behind him.  I had no car.  I had trapped myself in a strange house where his parents lived upstairs.  All they had to do was come down looking for him and there I would be, sitting in his room, twiddling my thumbs.

       I sat down on his bed and stopped caring as his scent wafted up to me.  I inhaled deeply and removed my shoes, then climbed into the bed and lay down on it, moaning with the delicious scent.  My threat about making myself hot was unnecessary; I was already hot and wet with lust.  I glanced more thoroughly around his room, my eyes grazing over the posters, his instruments, his music.  He also drew, he also wrote poetry.  His creativity was immense, which to me meant only one thing.  He had a lot to express.

       I imagined the woman he spoke of who he’d had sex with.  I guessed that it was either his mother or his stepmother.  I had never met either of them so it made no difference to me.  The idea of a grown woman overpowering him and raping him was irresistibly sexy, but it being his own mother was nauseating and sick.  I hoped with all my heart it wasn’t her.        

       I explored his room, peeking behind the soundproofing to reveal cement walls with pipes running along them.  I pulled at them and realized they were very secure, and smiled as I followed them, around the room, past the bed, and I imagined him tied to them and grew wetter between my legs.

       Matt came back rather quickly.  I suddenly wished I had sexier undergarments on as I heard him open the back door, and I had the thought that if this type of relationship between us continued, I would buy some lingerie. 

       He appeared in the doorway, breathless from running, a drugstore shopping bag in his hand.

       “Oh my God, you’re still here.  You’re in my bed.” he said, and I smiled at him, which caused him to smile that willpower-melting gaze of his.  He pulled the box of condoms out of the bag and tossed it down on the nightstand as if he did this every day.  He reached up and unzippered his coat, revealing his deliciously naked chest again.  His nipples were hard and firm from being out in the cold, and I licked my lips as I stared at them.  He winked at me and turned to shut the door, his back muscles flexing with deliciousness as he did so.  I lay on his bed, my head propped up on one elbow, my curly brown hair falling across my shoulders.  He turned back and headed for me, tracing my body up and down with his eyes.

       “Does this mean you’ll take your shirt off?” he asked, not at all timidly as he crawled onto his bed and lay next to me, his body inches from mine.

       “Make me want to.” I said, and his breath came huskily as he pushed me down to the bed with his lips, kissing me over and over, his hand on my shoulder.  He then slid it down, a little awkwardly but not really to my right breast and squeezed it, and I moaned as my body fell back on the bed.  He started to rub my nipple through my shirt, through my bra, and I felt spikes of pleasure interrupted by too much cloth and already I wanted to tear it out of the way.  He pinched my nipple, then poked it, making me furiously, hopelessly wet as he continued to kiss me with his sweet, full lips.  I moaned, and he smiled.

       “I think you are mine, now.” he said, rolling his body on top of me and it felt so good, so so so good, to feel his chest crushing down on me, his hard dick pushing up between my legs.

       He leaned his face down so his lips rested next to my ear.

       “Tell me you want me.” he whispered, and I moaned helplessly as he continued to play with my nipple, through my shirt.

       “I want you, Matt.” I said.  I felt his crooked smile as his cheek moved against the side of my face.  His smell was paralyzing.  I was helpless.  I loved it.

       “Tell me how much.” he said. 

       “I want you with all I have.  I am drowning between my legs I’ve made so much cum; I’m empty, I need you in me, Matt, penetrate me, take me…”

       I felt his crooked smile grow wider.

       “Beg me for it.” he whispered, and my body twitched with desire as heat barreled through me, and I wrapped my arms around his back, holding him close as he continued to play with my right nipple, torturously through my shirt and bra.

       “Matt, please have sex with me, you can pleasure me however you want and I’ll pleasure you, all the rules are off, you’re in charge until you make me orgasm and you cum inside me, I’m yours, do what you want to me.”

       He growled and bit my ear and I yelped as he grabbed my wrists and pinned me to the bed, my heart racing a thousand miles an hour.  He started to kiss my neck, long, wet, sexy kisses, holding my body in place, unable to move, unable to resist him.  Not that I would have.

       He continued kissing down my shirt until his lips reached my right nipple, the one he had given all of the attention to, and he kissed it through my shirt and it was torture.        

       “Matt, take off my shirt!” I said, and his lustful, sexy smile appeared.

       “Make me want to.” he replied, and I shuddered with want and desire.

       “You can play with my tits however you want, suck them, lick them, pinch them, squeeze them, whatever you want they’re yours to do with as you please only take off my shirt and bra!”

       He sat up with triumph, straddling my hips between his thighs, taking my breath away as he slid his hands under the bottom of my shirt and I felt his fingertips on my skin for the first time.  The sensation was exquisite; sparks of luscious pleasure pulsed across my skin as I felt his hands on my bare stomach, sliding upwards and I had to arch my back so he could pull my shirt off the rest of the way, and then there I was, wearing only a bra, pinned to the bed between Matt’s legs and I thought I would pass out from want.  The crooked smile did not leave his face now as he reached under my back and expertly undid my bra with one hand, sliding it off of my arms with ease, letting it fall to the floor.

       He licked his already sexy lips with his sexier tongue as he gazed down and stared at my round, B-cup breasts that I realized no one else had ever seen before.  He peered at me from under his hair as he slid his palms up my stomach and then pinched my nipples, just a teeny bit too hard, and I squeaked and raised my pelvis in response, and he smirked.

       “How badly do you want me?” he whispered, pulling at my nipples, stroking them, teasing them, poking them, rubbing them. 

       “I’ve never wanted anything else so bad in my life; Matt I’ll give you anything you want, I’ll do anything you want, just please, please don’t stop.” I said, and his smile became full blown as he leaned forward, his hard dick pressing up between my legs as he lowered his lips and kissed my right nipple once, then my left one once, then rose back up into a sitting position.

       “More!” I demanded, and he laughed softly.

       “So easy to manipulate you, now.” he said. 

       “Yes, yes!  Do what you want to me, please, please, Matt…”

       “You do what I tell you.” he said, “And you’ll get your reward.”

       My heart flew with excitement that I could barley contain.  I knew my smile gave away how much I liked this, how hot he had me.

       “Yes, I’ll do what you tell me.” I said.

       “That’s ‘Yes, Matthew’.” he ordered, and neither of us could keep from grinning with impossible pleasure at the way the situation had turned around.  Cum poured out of my vagina as his dick pulsed with hardness, pressed up between by legs, through our jeans.

       “Yes, Matthew.” I was barley able to squeak out.  He leaned down and kissed my nipples again, this time over and over and over, licking them, teasing them with his tongue, and it occurred to me that he knew exactly what he was doing, better than I would have known.  I clutched at his hair, holding his head close to me as he grinned.

       “Do you like this?” he asked.

       “Yes, yes!”

       All of a sudden he was gone and I felt a smack across my stomach, not hard but enough to sting.

       “That’s ‘yes, Matthew.” he said, and I couldn’t believe how hot I was, I was going to pass out, I had never thought in my seventeen years that I would have loved to be totally dominated by a boy this way.  Maybe it wouldn’t have been so with any boy; maybe it was only him that I desired to control me; but he had me for all I was worth and I was loving it.

       “Yes, Matthew.” I said.

       He pinched both of my nipples, hard, and I cried out with pleasure and pain.

       “You are captured; you are mine.” he said, and I moaned with pleasure as he ground his hard dick up between my legs.

       “Matthew, please, please take off your pants, let me touch your dick…”

       “You will, when I’m ready.” he said.  “First, I believe you demanded I satisfy you.  Lie still.”

       He reached down and undid the button on my jeans, then he rose off of me and slid the zipper down.  My heart raced with excitement as he yanked my pants off, down past my ankles, and then removed my socks so that I lay on his bed in nothing but my soaking wet underpants.

       “Wow.” he said, running his finger up the inside of my thigh as I twitched with want.  “You are drowning.”  He teasingly ran his finger along the edge of my underpants, tracing the elastic around my leg, gazing down at my body with his eyes.

       “Hey, you are damn sexy.” he said.  “Who knew you had such curves under all those clothes?” he said.  “I may never let you get dressed again.”

       My only response was to breath more heavily, and I started to drool.

       “Hey, you’re making a mess of my bed.” he said, crushing me with his body again as he leaned down to lick the drool off my face, and then proceeded to kiss me, over and over, his dick now pressed up against my underpants.  He smiled and pulled his face away from mine, then slid off of me so that he lay beside me.

       “Oh, the things I’m going to do to you…” he said, and he slid his finger slowly, tortuously slowly down my stomach, past my belly button, over the top of my underpants and down across my clitoris, ever, ever so gently.  I cried out with pleasure and he laughed softly.  He poked my clitoris through the cloth and I gasped with burning heat.

       “Matthew, please stop teasing me!” I begged.

       “No.” he said, and he flicked my clitoris with his finger, causing it to sting a little, causing my voice to cry out with tortured pleasure.

       “You are so, so so going to pay for this…” I threatened, and he laughed and pinched my clit through the cloth.

       “I sure hope so.” he said, pulling on my pinched clit through the cloth until the underwear started to come away from my body, and still he pulled, ever so torturously slowly, until they finally started to move away from my body and down my legs.  Once he got them halfway down my thighs he pulled them off quickly, tossing them somewhere in the room, revealing my full, brown bush surrounding my pussy which I had shaved in the desperate hope that this would happen.  He raised an eyebrow.

       “Were you expecting my company?” he asked, and I smirked.

       “I knew I was going to get it.” I replied, though that wasn’t the entire truth; I really had never thought I would get this lucky. 

       Smack.

       The sting across my crotch spread at first with fire and then with deeper pleasure than I ever could have imagined.

       “That’s what you get for lying.” he said. 

       Smack.

       “Ghah!” I shouted, and where I should have tried to get away, I spread my legs for him so he could spank my pussy again, making sure he would sting my clitoris.  And he did, over and over, until it started to really sting and tears came to my eyes and I felt the wet cum pouring down my ass crack with want.  He laughed and then moaned with pleasure, and when I expected the next smack, none came.

       “Don’t stop…” I said.

       “Oh, but now you’re all red and sore.” he said, putting a palm on each of my knees, pushing them down, spreading my lips as far wide as the would go.  “I’m gonna make it all better…”

       He touched his lips to my clit and I would have flown off the bed had he not held me down with his suddenly very strong hands, pressed on my thighs.  His lips caressed my labia, drinking up the juices that flowed out of me, and then he slid his tongue up my slit until it caressed my now extremely sensitive clitoris, and I screamed with pleasure and desire and I could feel that lustful smile on his lips as he licked me, slowly, up and down, over and over.  Hot pleasure like I’d never known coursed through me and I tangled my hands in his hair, holding him there even as his hands held me to the bed. 

       “More…not there, up, no, left, no, ooooooohhhhh, yeaaaahhhh…” I moaned, and now he did exactly as he was told, following my directions to the letter with his tongue, licking, caressing, flicking across my skin.

       Then he clamped down and sucked, and I screamed and pulled on his hair as he squeezed my hips with is hands.  He sucked more until I thought I couldn’t take another second of it and then I felt his teeth, biting my clitoris, nipping at it, pulling at it, and it was more than I thought I would ever be able to take when he reached up and pinched my nipples again.  I started to pulse, deep, hot twitches between my legs and the world disappeared and I became blind, I became deaf, I could do nothing but feel Matt pleasure me as he promised as I orgasmed and moaned, and moaned, and moaned.

       The pulsing stopped and he released me from all three things.  He stood up and I thought that if he left, my heart would break and I would cry.  Instead, I heard the sound of a zipper and I somehow managed to grab ahold of enough willpower to turn my head and see him drop his pants to the floor.  I shook with want as my vision started to clear and he removed his boxers, and I saw the biggest, purplest swollen dick I could have imagined protruding from nice,

defined legs over a pair of not-quite-even balls.  I had seen lots of boys naked before, having grown up with them, but I had never seen a boy who was hard.  He turned to look at me, absolute triumph on his face.

       “Do you like it?” he asked.

       “Yes.  Matthew.”  I added quickly, and he turned and crawled back on top of me and I tried to reach down to touch the delicious purple thing with my hands but he pinned my wrists above my head and grinned down at me.

       “Do you want me?”

       “Yes, Matthew.”

       He crushed my head to the bed with another irresistible kiss, my body jelly under him, as I felt his dick hot and hard against the inside of my thigh, somehow it was hard and soft at the same time and I wanted it, even though back then I didn’t yet know exactly what it would feel like.

       I felt a wet coldness on my leg and I tried to look down to see, but his body was in the way.  He looked up at me, his dark eyes boring into mine with lustful heat as he smiled his irresistibly crooked smile.

       “You’re making me leak.” he said.  He moved, he got up and then sat, his bare ass on my chest, the tip of his dick so close to my face so that all I could do was stare at it.  I tried to move my hands to touch it, but he held them down, firmly.  I saw his long, hard shaft, capped by a mushroom-shaped bulge that had a opening at the end, from which clear, gooey liquid was indeed leaking.

       “That’s precum.  That’s cause you’re so damn hot, you’ve made me a mess.  You will clean me.” he directed.  My heart pounded furiously with excitement as I tried to move my hands, and he laughed softly.        

       “With your tongue.”

       I raised my head and placed my lips on the delicious, hot purple thing before me and the moan that escaped his lips was everything.  I wanted to pleasure him, I wanted to please him, I wanted him to feel as good as I had just felt.  I licked the tip and he shuddered, and I smiled at how much he liked it.  Somehow, he grew harder as I danced my tongue around the tip, across it, sucking at it to keep my own drool from running down his shaft, though it did anyway.  His head fell and he closed his eyes as his chin hit his chest, and he squeezed the sides of my body with his thighs and I shuddered.

       My neck grew impossibly tired and I fought against it, desperate for more, wanting to please him, wanting to lick down the sides of the whole thing, to play with it with my hands, to make him moan more.

       Instead my muscles gave out on me and my head collapsed back to the bed.  He opened his eyes and for a moment all I saw on his face was his openness, his vulnerability, his disappointment that it was over.

       “Is that all?” he asked, and I tried to free my hands again.

       “Stop trying to escape; you’re mine.” he ordered.

       “Yes, Matthew.”

       He smiled very seductively and though I found it getting harder to breathe with his weight crushing my chest, I did not want him to move.

       “I’m going to get up; you will not move.”

       “Yes, Matthew.”

       He rose up off of me, releasing my wrists, releasing my chest and I inhaled the precious oxygen gratefully.

       “I know you have no experience, so I’m going to educate you.  Pay attention.” he said, and I drooled as he reached down and grabbed his own dick and I was fervent with jealousy at his hand.  He started to stroked it, up and down, the skin moving along with his fingers so that it wasn’t his skin that was getting pleasured.  I watched with glued fascination as he started to jerk himself off, slowly moving faster and faster, the pleasure evident on his face and even more apparent as he somehow grew harder, purpler, his teeth showing through his smile.

       He moved until he grunted and then squeaked, and then he flew his hand away, the swollen delicious thing pulsing, bobbing up and down, crying to be touched and I couldn’t help it; I reached for it.  He slapped my hand away.

       “I told you not to move.  You don’t follow directions very well.”

       He got onto the bed and crawled behind me, and then his arms were around me.  He pulled me on top of him so my back lay on his chest and his dick poked up between my legs, spreading my lips as he slid it up through my slit, the top poking out where I could see.  I screamed with pleasure and tried to move.  He quickly wrapped one arm around my neck, tightly, the other around my stomach, his lips in my ear.

       “You have taught me that you must be restrained.” he said.  “I can’t trust you to follow directions on your own.”

       Want and heat surged through me, his naked body pressed against mine, his lips on my ear, his dick touching my clitoris and I panted, heavily.

       Then in the middle of all of this, stupid health class sprang into my mind and I realized what we were doing could have been dangerous.  He felt me tense up in a different way, not from want, and immediately his grip on my neck loosened and I could breathe.

       “What’s wrong?” he asked, and there was so much caring and sweetness in his voice that I almost fell apart in tears.  I couldn’t bring myself to ask the question; it seemed too insulting.  What if he got angry?

       “Nicky, what is it?” he asked, and at the sound of my regular name, all of our games vanished and he became just Matt, the cute boy in poetry club.  I shook nervously.

       “You don’t.. you don’t…please don’t be angry, Matt…”

       “I’m not angry.  I won’t be angry.  I promise.”

       I still could not see his face; he hadn’t completely released me, though he held me gently now, sweetly.  I started to cry.

       “Nicky, I’ve trusted you with so much of myself, it’s okay, you can trust me back, what is it?”

       His voice was so concerned and sweet that I believed him.

       “You don’t have any STDs, do you?”  I managed to squeak out.  I felt his entire body relax under me.

       “No, oh, no.” he said sweetly into my ear,  lifting the hand that had been around my stomach and stoking my hair gently, sweetly, though still very, very possessively.  “Nicky, I wouldn’t to that to you, I will never, ever hurt you for real like that, you’re too precious, you’re…I need you too much…”

       My heart glowed at the sweetness in his voice and I knew I was hopelessly, inescapably, deeply in love with him.

       “I’m clean.” he said.  “I know because I got tested; I didn’t trust Melanie.” he said.  I relaxed against his skin.  “Do you feel better?” he asked, and I reached up to wipe the few tears that had apparently escaped my eyes.  I nodded.

       “Yes.” I said, not adding his name, just to test him, just to see if the game was truly on pause for the moment.  It was. 

       “Do you want to stop?” he asked with real, true concern, and I knew that if I said yes, he would release me instantly.  Which was the last thing I wanted.

       “No.” I said, and immediately his smile was back and his arm was tight around my throat again. 

       “Good.” he said, and he reached down and stroked his penis as it pressed against my crotch, and I felt it grow again; somehow in that short amount of time, it had shrunk.  I whimpered with pleasure as he slid his finger up my slit and stroked my clitoris.  I tried to spread my legs wider.

       “You are fidgeting too much.” he said.  He wrapped his arm around my waste again, pressing my back into his chest, my ass into his pelvis as he slid his legs outward, causing mine to fall to the bed between his.  He then lifted his legs and wrapped them around mine, his feet and calves on the inside of my ankles, essentially holding my legs immobile with his bigger, stronger legs.  He tightened his grip around my throat, his arm pressing into it, exactly hard enough so that I could breathe so long as I didn’t move.  My arms were free, but other than that I was completely immobile, tied down by his body, his superior strength.  Heat flushed through me and I moaned with pleasure as he slid his right hand back down between my legs, where his penis still poked up.

       “Do not move.” he said, squeezing my throat so I could not breathe for just a second, making the point that if I tried anything, he would cut off my air.  My heart beat wildly.  He was completely in control, I was absolutely helpless to him, and I loved it.

       I moaned as the pleasure between my legs started to rise.  It felt completely different from when he teased me with his tongue.  He stroked my clitoris faster, then slower, pinching it, causing me to cry out.  Then his finger darted away.

       “No, go back!” I cried in desperation, and his arm tightened around my throat.  “Please, Matthew, go back…” I corrected myself, and he released his grip and his finger returned.  I heard him laugh softly.

       “Sorry, but you get too dry.  I have to get some lubrication.” he said as his finger darted away again, down lower, and I realized he was dipping the tip of it inside my vagina to get cum, and this made me even hotter.

       The heat started to build to an inescapable level and I started to orgasm.  He tightened his grip around my legs, holding me still as my body pulsed, and then he spread his legs, which spread mine as well, and he slid his finger inside of me as far as it would go. I had to say I was disappointed; I could barely feel it at first, but then he started to slide in and out and the motion caused a little bit of pleasure in me.

       “Oh, it’s too small, Matthew…” I said, even as I moaned in the middle of my orgasm, and I felt his penis grow hard as it poked up between my legs.  He shifted a little and then I felt more pressure as he slid two fingers inside of me at once.

       “Mmmm…” I said, and even as my orgasm faded, the pleasure from him sliding in and out of me grew, and I tried to move my hips to help him, but he held me still.

       “This is just practice.” he said.  “You may not move.” 

       I tried my best to comply, but my hips wanted to rise and remaining still was torture as he then slipped three fingers inside of me and I cried out.

       “This is nothing.” he said, and my heart beat at an insane pace, and I could feel his pounding against his chest as well.  “My dick is so much bigger than three measly fingers.  Sex with me will hurt so much more.”  He said it with a very husky voice, desire dripping from each word that left his lips.

       “Hurt me more, Matthew!  Let me feel how big your dick is, please, Matthew.” I said, and I felt him smile and his heart pound faster as he continued to slide his fingers in and out of me, and I started to get used to it.  It felt good but it was not what I wanted.  I reached down and wrapped my hand around his penis, squeezing it, stroking downward as I had seen him do, though I could not move very far.  He moaned and grew harder, but his fingers slid out of me and he grabbed my wrist, pulling my arm away from him.

       “Oh, no.  I have more self-control than that.” he said, and my eyes rolled back in my head at his words, at him restraining me, at his delicious smell that filled my lungs.  “You’re not ready yet.”

       I whimpered with desire.  He reached up towards something above our heads, out of my field of vision, and then placed the box of condoms on top of my bare stomach.

       “My hands are busy.  Open it.” he demanded, and I lifted my hands to the box and started to open it.

       He went back to playing with my clitoris, which was extremely sensitive now, to the point that it hurt when he touched it.  I yelped.

       “Stop, Matthew!” I said, and he smiled.  I had called him Matthew, which meant the game was still on.  I did not really want him to stop.

       “No.” he replied, and my heart pounded against my ribs and I tried to struggle away, hotter than I’d ever felt in my life and I was going to turn around and take him myself.  He restrained me easily, continuing to play with my clitoris, squeezing my throat with his arm, reminding me that he was in control.

       “Get out a condom.” he demanded, even as I twitched and tried to get away from him, and he tightened the grip around my neck until I could not breathe.  I stopped struggling as I let his finger torture me, my clitoris burning, half pleasure, half pain, and tried to concentrate on tearing open one of the plastic wrappers around the circular rubber object I was after.  I finally got it open and the box with the rest of them in it slid off my stomach, disappearing somewhere on the bed.  I held up my prize to him.

       “Good, hang on to it, don’t lose it, or you don’t get your prize.” he said, and I clasped it in my hand firmly.

       Then the pain faded as my clitoris started to feel amazingly good.  Pleasure pulsed through me that made everything else I’d felt so far seem like kiddie stuff.  Those two previous orgasms had been practice.  I felt a new kind of heat, a new color of lust filled my vision and I moaned deeply, as I felt my vagina open wide, wanting, waiting.

       “Ohhhhh…yeahhh…..” I said, my voice low and hot in my throat.  Even as I twitched, Matt released me, dumping me on the bed, rolling around so he was on top of me.  He took the condom from my fingers and I heard a squishing noise and then his body hovered over mine, his breath drifting hotly across my face as I pulsed under him.  He placed his palms on my shoulders, crushing me to the bed.

       “You may move now.” he said.  “Spread your legs for me.”

       My heart beat impossibly fast.  My vision was blurred from tears and lack of concentration as the want between my legs burned in me.

       His right hand left my shoulder and then I felt pressure at the entrance to my vagina, something that seemed too big to fit in at all.

       “Wow, you are so wet.” he said, and I felt his thumb stroke my now extremely sensitive clit, and I cried out.

       “You’re gonna scream so much louder than that.” he said, and he pushed up into me and stars danced before my eyes as I swore he ripped a hole that was not there, and I did scream, just as he said.

       He then stayed very still as I panted like crazy, my eyes darting around the room wildly before they settled on his face.  His eyes looked worried but his lips had that smile and I moaned as I realized the penis that belonged to that smile was inside of me.

       “I think she likes it.” he said, and he moved, sliding out of me and I cried out at the loss.  Then he pushed back in and I cried out with pain, and he slid out again, and then was back, and then was gone, and then was back, and I started to learn what to expect when he entered, started to be able to anticipate what it would feel like.  His hands crushed my shoulders to the bed as it creaked under us and finally, my mind came around and realized I was having sex with Matt.  And it all started to become very delicious.

       I looked up at his face and saw the pleasure on it each time he slid into me, and I bit my lower lip with satisfaction.  He was enjoying himself, which made me enjoy myself, and I started to relax and rise my hips up to meet him when he came in.  He looked down at me and gave me that irresistible smile, his lips crooked up half his face, and I felt myself give some kind of similar smile in return.

       I saw a tortured expression come over him and I knew what it was.

       “You are holding back.” I said as he grunted.  “You will stop that at once and take what you want.” I ordered, and he shuddered and closed his eyes and then started to move faster, and harder, and I had to admit, it hurt.  But when I saw the pleasure on his face I only wanted him to do it more.

       “Matt, stop holding back, take what you want.” I ordered, slapping his ass, and his voice cracked in surprise and he moved faster, rougher, crushing me to the bed as I started to grow sore and still he didn’t stop, and I wanted him to be in control, not me.

       “I am here for your pleasure; use me as you wish, do not consider me, take what you want.” I said, and then he thrust in very hard, moving my entire body up the bed each time, making me cry out as the sensations of pleasure and pain radiated through my entire pelvis, my entire body, and then his voice screamed as he orgasmed, his penis pulsing inside me, his body shaking as he clutched my shoulders with his fingers, his hair shivering as it hung down from his face, his lips quivering before he collapsed on top of me, heavy and exhausted as he pulled out for the last time.

       I smiled triumphantly at the ceiling even as I didn’t want to move because of the soreness between my legs.  I reached up my hand and stroked his hair gently.

       “That was very good; you pleasured me just as you said you would.” I cooed, and he shuddered and rolled off of me, lying on his back next to me.  I looked down and saw a mess of wet, sticky white ooze all over both of us, and redness from blood mixed in as well.  I sat up and winced.  He turned and gave me that delicious smile.

       “Was I too rough?” he asked, in a way that said he was not sorry at all, as he reached out and rubbed my pelvis with his palm.

       “Yes.” I said.  “And you will be too rough again tomorrow.”

       He moaned and lay his head back down on the bed, and I saw his dick start to grow again, inside the liquid-filled condom.  He reached down and pulled it off with a sucking noise that I should have found gross, and did not.

       “But you’ll be sore…”

       I smacked him on his chest, on his nipple, and had the pleasure of seeing his dick start to rise again.

       “You will have sex with me when I tell you to; you will not refuse me.” I said, and I watched his dick struggle to grow hard again, though it was clear he was too tired.  He smiled.

       “You like it rough.” he said, and I felt my heart beat faster.  “And you like me in control.” he said, his voice low and grumbling.

       “Yes, I like when you take control, so long as it is temporary.”  he smiled seductively.

       “I was still only doing as ordered.” he replied.  “You told me to have sex with you; you just never specified how, so I took some liberties.”

       I gave him the sexiest smile I had.

       “Well I wanted to give you some freedom.  You are such a creative person, after all.”  He smiled sweetly, raising his arms above his head, stretching his nipples which begged for me to pinch them, but now was not the time.  “And the problem is that you are more experienced than I am in this area.  I need you to educate me.”

       His dick tried to grow hard again, and I smiled at the effect I had on him.

       “I could teach you all sorts of lessons.” he said, and I moaned and moved closer to him.  I pressed my body up next to him and lay across his chest.  He lowered his arms and wrapped them around my naked body, and that was when I first felt that we were truly together; truly a couple, was those few minutes we lay there, cuddling softly after we’d had sex.

       “You should really wash up; you don’t want any of my cum near you.” he said.  I nodded and rolled off of the bed, wincing as I stood to my feet.  I grew hot as I thought of the reason why I was sore, and I moaned.  I turned around.

       “Why are you still lazing on the bed?  You need to clean me.” I demanded, and his delicious, naked body flew to its feet and walked around me, leading me to his bathroom.  It was small, boring, and beige.  It wasn’t dirty, but it wasn’t clean, either, with toothpaste stains in the sink and the tub needed to be scrubbed.  I wrinkled my nose as I looked at each one.

       “This is not an appropriate room for you to clean my pussy after we have sex.” I said, pointing to the mildew in the corners of the shower and the toothpaste stains in the sink.  “Tomorrow when I come here, this room will be spotless.”

       “Yes, Nicole.” he said, and I was disappointed that he’d remembered; I had really wanted to smack him.  He opened the linen closet door and removed a perfectly acceptable, dark blue wash cloth and then turned on the shower, feeling it with his hands until it was the right temperature. 

       “You will not allow my hair to get wet.” I said, stepping in at the far end, so that the water hit me at about stomach height.

       “Yes, Nicole.” he said, his dick now rock-hard again and I stared down at it, making him blush.  He stepped into the water and slid the doors shut, then rubbed a bar of soap in the washcloth.

       “Do your parents ever come down here?” I asked.

       “Not usually.” he replied as I spread my legs, letting the water flow down as he started to scrub with the wash cloth, putting his left hand on my ass to get proper pressure.  He moved gently but businesslike, concentrating on his task as I stood with my hands above my head, keeping them dry.

       “If we keep body wash appropriate for my feminine skin, will they see it?”

       “Maybe.” he said.  “I really don’t care.”

       “I care.”

       “Then we’ll keep it under my bed, just in case.”

       “That is a good solution.  You will buy it for me and keep it in a nice, clean carrying case, since I’m sure it’s disgusting under your bed.”

       “Yes, Nicole.” he said, leaning lower, the water pouring over his head and hair as he crouched to clean every part of me, every fold, every crack, turning me on a little but not really very much.  I still enjoyed it immensely, watching him kneel before me, and I imagined tying him up six days from now, having had sex with him five times by then, knowing better what he liked, what turned him on.  I moaned.

       “But it’s just your thigh…” he said, scrubbing.

       “Oh, no.  I was dreaming about six days from now.  I really do hope you earn your reward.  I would so love to give it to you.” I said, and he stopped and fell to his knees in the tub, his head lowered in the water, panting, his dick rock hard and dark purple again.

       “Am I earning it properly?” he asked, so quietly that I barley heard him over the rushing water.  I looked down at him, his shins on the floor of the tub, his hands pressed to his knees, his head lowered, completely and totally submissive to me as the water ran over his head and down his shoulders.  I couldn’t understand him, but then I couldn’t understand myself, either.  I loved to dominate him.  I loved to tell him what to do, I loved to watch him beg, I couldn’t wait to watch him suffer.  And yet I had loved so much to be helplessly under his control, I loved the sore feeling in my abdomen that I knew was from him taking me for his own pleasure. 

       “Yes,” I said, “you’re earning it quite well.”

       He started to scrub again, and then started to rinse.

       “Okay, you’re all done.” he said.  “Which of us shall clean me?”

       I smirked.

       “You will.” I said, and I knew he liked that idea because that smirk, which I learned he could do nothing about, came to his lips.  I watched him as he scrubbed his dick and balls and ass crack, studying him, learning what he looked like.  He rinsed himself and turned off the water.  I opened the shower door and stared down at the bare, cold tile floor.

       “Where is my towel?” I asked, and he stepped quickly out of the shower, dripping wet, until he reached the closet and pulled one out, handing it to me.  I took it and he reached for one for himself.

       “No, you were not thoughtful enough to get us towels, stand there cold and drip dry.  Hands behind your head, do not move.” I said, and I watched the smirk come to his face and his dick grow hard, along with his nipples, as he obeyed my orders.

       “You are so good at this…” he said, his voice shaky, and I winked at him as I dried myself off.

       “So are you.” I said, stepping close and kissing his lips long and sweetly.  I then pulled away and traced my eyes up and down his delicious body, thinking about all the things I would do to it.

       “I supposed I can dry you with my towel.” I said, and I started to rub him down, beginning with his arms and shoulders and chest.

       “Spread your legs for me.” I said, and his dick became impossibly hard as I dried all around it, his balls, his ass crack, but did not touch his actual dick until the end, when I removed my hand from the towel and wrapped my fingers around it.  He moaned and closed his eyes, still standing with his feet apart, his hands still behind his head.

       “Are you already wanting more?” I asked, and he nodded slowly.  I grinned.  “Then I need more education.” I said, and I felt him swell between my fingers.  “I’ve never given a blow job; you will teach me how to make it feel good to you.” I said, and he whimpered as my lips came to the tip of his penis, and he lowered his hands to grip the edge of the counter for balance.  I immediately stopped, smirked, and smacked his ass.

       “I told you not to move!  Hands behind your head!” I said, and his smirk grew wider and his dick grew harder as he obeyed.  I started to kiss his dick again, and then opened my mouth and started to suck.

       “Ugh…cover your teeth with your lips…” he said.  I smacked his ass.  “Please, Nicole!” he added, and I smiled and did as he asked.

       “Can you suck harder?” he asked, and I smacked his ass again.  “Can you suck harder, please Nicole?” he asked, and then I did.  He moaned and pulsed bigger between my lips.  “Can you go deeper, please Nicole?” he asked, and I tried, and he whimpered as I scraped him with my teeth.

       “Please try not to use your teeth, please Nicole.” he said, and I tried, but it was difficult because he was just so very big.  I also didn’t mind if I hurt him, and I wasn’t sure if he minded, either. 

       “Can you use your tongue, please Nicole?” he asked, his voice growing husky and wavery.  I licked it along the bottom of his dick as I slid my lips over the top, and he moaned.

       “Oh, yesss…”

       I bit him.

       “Yes, Nicole!” he squeaked, and then I went back to massaging him with my tongue and lips, up and down, over and over, until my jaw started to hurt.  I pulled away from him, kissing the tip of his dick as I left and watched it bounce in the air as I stood up.  His breathing was ragged and heavy, his nostrils flared.

       “How many orgasms have you given me today?” I asked.

       “Three, Nicole.” he squeaked.

       “And how many have you had?”

       “One, Nicole.”

       “That doesn’t seem fair.” I said.  “Do you want another?”

       “Yes, Nicole, please, Nicole, however you want to do it, Nicole.” 

       I smiled widely at him and pressed my body up against him, my breasts pressing into his chest, his dick pressing into my lower abdomen, as he was taller than I was.

       “Let’s go back to your room.” I said, and I led him and he followed, and my heart pounded with want and lust as I felt wetness ooze through my legs again.  I wanted more sex, but since we had just cleaned up from that and I was very sore, I thought it best to wait.  I sat on the bed.

       “Okay, jerk off while I watch.” I said.  His ears turned flaming red.

       “What?” he asked, but that smile came to his lips and I knew he liked the idea.

       “I want to watch you jerk off.  Show me how it’s done.” I said, laying my naked body across the dry part of his bed, and the smile became full blown on his lips as he started to pull on his own dick, up and down, and my eyes did not cease gazing at him as he pumped, slowly at first and then faster and faster, and I watched his face and drooled at his delicious chest and stared at his hard, purple dick which I was going to learn to pleasure even better than he could himself.

       “Tell me when you are about to cum, I want to taste it.” I said, and he squeaked, as that thought was what pushed him over the edge.

       “Now!” he said, and I rushed and put my lips over the tip of his dick as a little bit of warm, wet liquid squirted into my mouth, not very much at all since he had just spent most of it before.  He whimpered as I sucked on the tip and I tasted the salty, gooey liquid and tested it, swallowing it, seeing how it would settle in my stomach to know if this would be a future activity or not.

       He grew limp and I let it fall, jiggling as it hung down.  I stood up and looked directly into his eyes as I licked my lips, and he shuddered.

       Then my entire face softened and I crawled back to the bed, turning the blankets so they covered the mess and I lay on top of them, dry.  I reached out my arm for him.

       “Come here.” I said, and he came, and lay next to me, and I snuggled myself close to his chest as he wrapped his arms around me.

       “I’m in shock that any of this is real,” I said.  “This is the best dream I’ve ever had.”

       He stroked my hair gently with his fingers.

       “Nicky,” he said, ending the game, and now we were two new lovers cuddling in the afterglow together.

       “Matt.” I replied, showing him that I agreed the game was on pause for the moment.

       “This has been the best two days of my life.” he said.  “But I’m still terrified.”

       “Of what?”

       “Of losing you.”

       He said it so quickly, so desperately.  It gave me power over him, how much he needed me.  I loved it.  I wanted to use it, in as many ways as I could.  But that only seemed right if he knew that he had that same power, over me.

       “I want to say that as long as you do what I tell you, you won’t lose me.” I said, looking into his beautiful brown eyes.  “But that’s not true, because I am helpless to resist you.  I want you with every ounce of me, I could never stay away from you.”

       He smiled, his dimple reminding me of the truth in what I’d just said.

       “You are so everything Melanie wasn’t…” he said.

       “Tell me about her.”

       He sat up and stared down at the bed, his penis now small and tiny, the way I was used to seeing dicks.

       He sighed.

       “She led me on, took me to dates, told me how cute I was, how hot I was, ordered me around a little and she loved that I listened to her…but she was just using me.  She was just trying to tell whether she was straight, and then when she decided she wasn’t she didn’t officially tell me it was over, she just found herself a girlfriend and then I found out that night in the ally…and she laughed at me so cruelly…”

       I was finally able to do what I had wanted to do when he’d read that poem the first time.  I scooted up from behind him and wrapped my arms around him, my breasts pressing into his back and he gasped.  I laughed.

       “Let’s get dressed.” I said, and he nodded, and we searched around for our clothes.  My underpants were too soaking wet to wear, so I shoved them into my backpack and wore nothing, which meant I would be a worse mess when I got home.  I would have to keep fresh, clean underpants under his bed as well, I thought.

       “Now I can comfort you.” I said, and I scooted over to him on the bed and gave him a real hug, and he held me in his arms, resting his chin on the top of my head.

       “Nicky,” he said, “I’ve known you, really known you, for three days, but already I love you, I hope that doesn’t scare you…”
       I turned my face and kissed him, and he inhaled deeply at the sweetness of it.  I pulled back.

       “I also love you, I’m also in love with you, I want you, I desire you, I want to manipulate you and tease you and hurt you and pleasure you and tie you up to do my bidding next Tuesday.” I said, and his breath became shaky.  “And I want all these things so hopelessly much that I might even say I’m yours unconditionally.”

       He smiled at me, half genuine, half crooked.

       “And Matt, when I call you precious, I do mean it, you are so valuable to me, you are so beautiful.” I said, and he blushed.  “Matt, I want to get to know you more.  Play me a song.” I said, and his face lit up with a gorgeous, beautiful smile.

       “Really?”

       “Yes, I’ve heard your poems, I’ve seen your sketches, they are all amazing…well, some of your poems are boring but most of them are amazing…play me a song.” I said.

       He got up excitedly and started hooking up one of his electric guitars, and the innocence on his face completely contrasted with all the things we had just done, and I found it endearing.

       “What should I play, Nicole?” he asked, his voice cracking with excitement.

       “You may choose.  Eventually I’ll hear them all, and you don’t have to worry about impressing me, you’ve already done that today.”

       He beamed and slung the strap over his shoulder, and I melted as he tuned the guitar expertly, the way he stood, the way his veins popped as he twisted the pegs, the way his entire body flowed as he started to play, the way his hair fell into his eyes, and ‘hopelessly in love’ became a great understatement as I sat, mesmerized by the delicious boy that was completely and utterly mine.

       He drove me home very late.  I got in after midnight and neither of my parents bothered to get out of bed to yell at me, which was fine.  I collapsed into bed, realized I hadn’t done my homework, and fell asleep with the biggest satisfied grin I’d ever had in my life, and that was Wednesday.

       He waited for me at the front doors of the school.  I thought about commanding him to pick me up and drive me to school, but that gave him power and it was far more satisfying to see him waiting outside the doors, all the kids walking past, knowing that he was standing there waiting for me.  I demanded that he always arrive anywhere first and wait for me, including at my locker between classes, and he was perfect all day until poetry club, when he was late.

       He ran in two minutes after the bell, unabashedly crossed the room, and sat at my feet which was where he knew he belonged because of his lateness.  I leaned forward and whispered in his ear,

       “Now I will punish you.”

       I heard him inhale sharply and watched with satisfaction as his lustful smile and bulge in his jeans gave away just how much he liked that idea.  I swore he must have been late on purpose. 

       While we listened to the teacher, I played with him.  I squeezed him between my legs and I stroked the back of his neck with my fingers, where no one else could see.  I could tell he had to call on immense will power not to moan, to remain absolutely silent, and it gave me ideas for later.  When we broke up into groups and everyone stood up, I gave his ass a pinch and his nostrils flared.  I wanted him, desperately, the wet cum already oozing out between my legs.  After the project and we sat back down, I offered to read my poem first.

       “Fine, Miss Tiller.” the teacher, who’s name I’d never bothered to learn, said.  He was male but he was too old, in his thirties, and he held no desire for me, so there was no point in learning his name.

       I stood up in front of everyone and realized I was not the same person I had been yesterday.  I had lost my virginity in what felt like a hundred ways, and I felt like it was written all over my face, and it gave me a boost of confidence as I realized I was better than them.

       I read some boring poem I’d written about snow.

       When I got back to my seat, on the couch, and slid my legs around Matt again, I leaned forward to whisper in his ear,

       “I wrote another poem, just for you.”

       He smiled crookedly and my heart fluttered with passion.

       After school he met me at my locker.  He held my books, he carried my backpack.  A few boys scoffed at him as he walked by.

       “Sissy.”

       “Bitch.”

       “Whipped.” they said, and one of them made a whipping sound.  Matt’s crooked smile was unmistakable, unsettling even to them as he turned around and laughed.

       “You just wish you had what I have,” he said, winked at them, and kept walking.  Their laughter did absolutely nothing to remove the smirk from his face, which only seemed to grow as we walked towards his car.

       “They don’t bother you?” I asked, and he laughed.

       “Why the hell would I care what they think?  They’re just males.” he said, and I smiled.  So then he was like me.  Females to me were nothing, annoyances that just got in the way between me and males.  I could care less what they said, if I was even paying enough attention to listen.  And so males were the same to him.

       “Matt, you are so damn sexy.” I said, and he smiled because he knew it.

       

       When we got to his house, the moment we walked into his room I shut the door.

       “Drop your backpack.” I said.  He obeyed.

       “Remove your shirt.” I said, the smirk on his face impossible to hide, and I grew hot as he obeyed.  The sight of him in only jeans was absolutely breathtaking.

       “Hands behind your head.”

       He obeyed.  It was so very, very delicious, and the best part was that I knew from his smile how much he liked it, how much he loved that I ordered him around.

       I stepped forward and pinched his nipples, not very hard, but hard enough that he got the message.

       “Now, why were you late to poetry club?”

       “I’m sorry, Nicole.” he said, and I pinched a little harder.  His dick bulged in his pants.

       “That wasn’t an explanation.” I said.  “Why were you late to poetry club?”

       “I have art beforehand, I have to clean up.”  I knew he was hiding something so I pinched harder.  He started to wince and squirm.

       “Don’t you want to see me?  I spend all day in tortured agony, dying to see you, and you’d rather spend your time cleaning up finger-paint?!”

       I twisted his nipples as he squirmed and squeaked, yet the smirk did not leave his face and his dick bulged hard against his jeans.

       “I get in the zone!  I loose track of time and the period is over before I know it!  I’ve never felt so creative since I met you, I can’t stop, it flows…”

       I pinched his nipples as hard as I could until tears were in his eyes, the sight so sexy I couldn’t bring myself to stop.

       “I’ve told you everything!” he shouted, and I smirked.

       “I know; I’m just enjoying myself.”

       “Nicole, please stop!” he begged, but he called me Nicole, so I knew the game was still on.

       “I don’t know, it seems you like it.” I said, tracing my eyes down to his dick, which I wished I had some way of teasing, but my hands were busy.  “Get on your knees and beg.”

       He obeyed instantly.

       “Please stop, Nicole, it hurts…”

       “Are you hard?”

       “Yes.”

       I pinched harder.

       “Yes, Nicole!”

       “So then you like it.”

       “Yes, Nicole!”

       “I will stop when you have pleased me.  Remove my pants.” I ordered, and he hurriedly unzippered my jeans and pulled them down to my ankles, and today I was wearing a much sexier pair of panties, black with lace around the edges.

       “Ohhh…” he said when he saw them, his body shuddering from the pain and pleasure.

       “Remove my panties.” I said, and he slid his hands up shakily, trying not to move his body too much, as his nipples hurt him more when he shifted.

       “Pleasure me, so that I forget myself, and I might forget to pinch your nipples so hard.”

       He immediately leaned forward and started to lick my soaking wet pussy, forcing his tongue in between my lips, finding my clitoris, making me moan.  He was very good at it, as if he’d done this a million times, and the sight of him kneeling in front of me, his face in my crotch as I held his nipples captive made me almost as horny as his tongue teasing my clit.

       “Oh, yes, that feels so good…” I said.  I pinched his nipples harder and he squeaked into my crotch, the vibrations causing delicious sensations in my skin.  I grinned and pulled on his nipples, pulling him closer to me, and he began to lick more reverently.

       “The faster you make me orgasm, the sooner I’ll let go.” I said, and his tongue started to flick across my clit very fast, and I moaned at the sensations dancing through me and then he bit down and started to nipple, and what a sight we were, his nipples pinched between my fingers, my clit trapped between his teeth.

       He nibbled and stroked and licked until the heat became impossible and then I started to pulse, and he bit down again, and I moaned and release him so that I could wrap my hands around his head, keeping him there as my knees turned to jelly and I could barley remain standing.  My eyes rolled back in my head and I wavered in my balance as I smashed his face into my pussy, and he raised his hands shakily to hold my hips.  Then the sensations faded, but he did not stop; he began licking me again and I screamed as I was too sensitive.

       “Matthew, stop!” I shouted, and I felt him smile and nip my clit again as he pushed me backwards onto the bed, sucking all of my flesh into his mouth as he crawled up with me and forced my legs open with his hands.  The sensations he drove through me were insane, pleasure and pain, gasped as his tongue darted inside my vagina.  After a few minutes it started to feel amazingly, amazingly good, and then I pulsed again, completely out of control as he sucked on my clitoris, licked it, massaged it with is tongue, keeping me captive with my pinched nipples as a deep moan escaped my lips. 

       I orgasmed a second time, this one much deeper than the first, and I felt him smile as I went off.  I started to calm down and I tried to push his head away, and yet still he stayed and I tried to struggle away, and he pinned my legs open on the bed with his hands.

       “Mathew stop, stop!  Please stop, please!” I begged, and he only laughed and bit my clit and I screamed from pain as it was too much, it was too sensitive and then I felt pressure as he slid his fingers into my vagina, and I moaned and screamed.

       “More!” I yelled, and he smacked the side of my ass.

       “More, Matthew!” I shouted, and he shoved his fingers in harder, making my soreness from yesterday flare up as I orgasmed in his mouth a third time, screaming at the top of my lungs, hoping that this room truly was soundproof, as he promised.
       He finally let go and I gasped as he removed his fingers from in me, leaving me burning with want and desire, helpless on the bed.

       I sat up instantly, still fully dressed, pulled up my pants and pretended to glare at him, though the smile on my face prevented me from truly doing that.

       “You will be punished for that.” I said, and he moaned and his eyes rolled back in his head.  “Remove your pants.”  He stood up and obeyed, a little too happily.  “Remove your boxers.”

       He obeyed, his dark purple penis standing straight out as I traced my eyes along it.

       “Remove your socks.  You should be naked.” I said.  I got up.

               “Lay.” I commanded, and he lay down on the bed.  I went to my backpack and pulled out a long, white rope.  His eyes grew wide and his dick grew immensely hard.

       “I’m just going to need to test out a few knots I’ve been practicing.” I said.  “Hands above your head.”

       He obeyed, all of this silently, and I didn’t mind, not yet.  I wrapped one end of the rope around his right wrist and he moaned and shuddered and twitched, his penis throbbing and I thought he was going to go off right then.  I wrapped the rope many times around him, creating a sort of wide bracelet as the strands lay tightly next to each other, and he moaned each time I wrapped another loop.  I then pulled the rope towards the wall, wrapped it around one of the pipes secured on the wall behind the soundproofing, and then pulled it back towards his other wrist and wrapped it as securely as the first one.  I reached into my backpack and pulled out a pair of sharp scissors and his eyes grew wider and he half gasped, half moaned, shuddered, and grew even harder.  I noticed this reaction but ignored it as I cut the rope to length and then tied it around his other wrist, securing his hands above his head.  I then took the scissors and lightly placed the cold metal tip on his skin, his eyes wide as I traced it, ever so gently, across his chest and he shook with want, precum leaking out of his extremely hard penis.

       “Do the scissors turn you on?” I asked.

       “Yes!” he screamed, and then he started to cry.  “Please don’t call me a freak, please don’t leave me, Nicky!” His cries were desperate.  He used my real name.  This was not a game to him.  I stared at his desperate, delicious, begging, tied up naked body and it took all of my willpower not to move closer to him, to straddle him, to sink myself onto his erect penis.  Leave him?  I was powerless to move even one step away.

       I crawled on top of him, my clothes brushing his naked body as I placed my face over his and stroked his hair, concern on my face.

       “Matt, I told you yesterday that I can’t leave you.”

       He only cried and sobbed.

       “Should I untie you?”

       “NO!”

       It was extremely sexy to me, hearing that, but I was also truly worried and so I just stroked his hair while he sobbed, and I kissed his lips softly, over and over, until he stopped.

       “Do you want to tell me what this is about?” I asked, as gently as I could.  “I promise I am yours no matter what you say.”

       His eyes shined in the light as he sniffled and stared at me in awe.

       “Why?  How?  How can you promise me these things when you don’t even know how much of a freak I am…”

       I held his chin very firmly in my hand and forced him to look at me.

       “You will never call yourself that again, you will not even think it.” I demanded.

       “Yes, Nicole.” he said weakly, and I knew he would obey.

       “You will never call me by that word, either.” I demanded.

       “Yes, Nicole.”

       “Neither of us will ever think negative things about the other one’s sexual desires.”

       “Yes, Nicole.” he said, and I felt him relax under me.  He lay his head back on the bed and inhaled deeply, then exhaled and I saw what looked like a hundred years of tension leave his body.

       “Yes, the scissors turn me on.” he said.  “Cut me, Nicole, please, make me bleed.”

       I shuddered with heat and moaned at his words.  He turned his eyed towards me with surprise.

       “You…want to?”

       I nearly melted to the floor as I thought of slicing his perfect skin, red rivulets pouring down from it as he lay, helpless before me, and then I would hurt him in some way; pour salt on it, or alcohol, to make him scream.  I looked into his eyes with shocked amazement at myself.

       “Yes, yes I want to.” I said.  “And I will; but not today.”  I didn’t want to rush that kind of thing.  Something like that was permanent; I would mark his body as mine, forever.  And it was dangerous.  I had to do research, find out the safest way to do it.

       “You need a tetanus shot before we do something like that.” I said, and his eyes rolled back in his head as he moaned softly, his dick unable to grow harder, but it still pulsed up into the air.

       I stared down at his body, his nipples stretched as his arms were restrained above his head, and I soaked my underpants even more.

       “But I will cause you pain today, I promise.” I said, and he moaned softly and shuddered, and I wondered at what he imagined.  I reached into my backpack and pulled out clothespins and three big bottles of Gatorade.  His eyes grew wide at the clothespins; he obviously guessed at what they were for, and he raised an eyebrow curiously at the bottles of Gatorade.  I twisted the top off of one and crawled up onto the bed, straddling him, sitting down on top of his dick so it was squished between my jeans and his stomach.  He moaned and lifted his hips.

       “Oh, we will do that, don’t worry.  You made me want it.” I said, and he moaned.  “But not yet.”  I folded his flat pillow in half, stacking it under his head.  I held the Gatorade to his lips.

       “Drink.” I commanded, tipping it, and he gulped as fast as he could as I poured a little bit too fast, some of it dribbling down his face, down his neck, making his bed wet.  I poured and poured, not giving him a chance to stop, so that if he wanted to breathe he would have to let the liquid pour all over him, which I almost wished he would, since that would be hot.  But instead, he got it all down, all thirty-two ounces.  I tipped the last few drops out into his open mouth and he swallowed, and I moaned as cum soaked out between my legs.

       I reached down and grabbed the second bottle and he stared at it with wide eyes.

       “I don’t know if I can…”

       “Drink.” I commanded, and poured, and he gulped and gulped, grunting as more of it spilled this time and I continued to pour, and he gasped for air and I stopped pouring, half of the bottle gone.

       I held it up and stared at it as he gasped for air.

       “There’s a lot left.” I said. 

       “Please, Nicole, my stomach is so full, I don’t think I can take anymore…” he said, and I smirked because he used my full name, meaning he liked this kind of torture, and I began to realize that we were far more similar that I’d ever imagined; I wanted to dish it out and he wanted to take it.  I grew hot between my legs.

       “Are you done whining about what you can’t do?” I asked, and he nodded and I tipped the bottle against his lips and he gulped and swallowed, choking and coughing after another quarter of the bottle was gone, and I pulled it away, doing my best to look annoyed when really I was just extremely, extremely hot and turned on.  I waited until he composed himself, said nothing, and tipped the bottle to his lips again, and tears came to his eyes as he forced himself to swallow most of the rest of it, some of it dripping down his face, soaking his pillow, soaking his bed.

       He collapsed back onto the pillow and I smirked down at him.  I then slid off of him, my body still fully clothed, his completely naked.  I ran my finger down his sticky neck, across his chest, and suddenly pinched both of his nipples as he cried out and his back arched off of the bed.

       “Mmmm…” I said,  “It makes me so hot to see you be tortured this way…”
       “Torture me more, Nicole!” he screamed, and my breath quickened as I squeezed his nipples harder, unable to believe the deliciousness of what he asked for as he jerked and pulled against the ropes, his palms facing upwards as his chest skin stretched, making it hard to get a good grasp.

       Then I remembered the idea I’d had earlier during poetry club, when he had struggled so much to remain quiet while I stroked his neck.  I released his nipples and he fell back to the bed, panting, his dick impossibly hard. 

       I reached into my backpack and pulled out a 15-minute timer.

       “Now I’m going to play with your dick,” I said, “but the rules are you must remain absolutely silent, until this timer runs out, and you may not cum or else we can’t have sex, and then you won’t get your reward on Tuesday.”  I said, and his eyes grew absolutely wide as he moaned and that delicious smile came to his lips, and I knew he liked it.

       “When you scream, and you will scream, I will make sure of it, you will turn onto your stomach so I can spank you, for as many minutes that are left until the timer runs out.” I said.

       His eyes rolled back in his head at all of these thoughts and I smirked and wound the timer for ten minutes.  I took hold of his dick, and he gasped.

       “I’m not going to count that because I want this to last longer.” I said, and his voice cut short.  I started to pump him, as I had watched him do yesterday, and his mouth opened and no sound came out and I smiled as I thought how easy this was going to be.  His back arched and he pulled against the ropes that held his wrists, but I noticed that he never slid upwards, which he easily could have done, to relieve the tension.  He liked being tied up, that much, and the thought made me hot and wet.  I squeezed his dick harder and air rushed out between his lips as his cheeks grew flushed and his ears grew red hot. 

       “This is because you would not let me touch your dick yesterday.” I said.  “I told you you would pay.”

       His eyes rolled back in his head and his nostrils flared as he wanted to moan, and forced himself not to, and I smiled and reached down to stroke his balls, making his knees shake.  I stroked them as I pumped, squeezing them lightly, then harder and harder as time went by and he still managed to remain silent.  His dick grew very hard and purple in my hands and his voice cried out from between his lips,

       “I’m going to cum!”

       I took my hand away instantly.

       “On your stomach, now.  That was only seven minutes, you horny bitch.” I said, and he rolled over and I smacked his ass and he cried out.

       “Can I scream now please, Nicole?” he asked, and I laughed with delight.

       “Yes, all you want, if you can’t take it.” I said, and I smacked his ass again and he cried out.  I hit him, over and over, switching between cheeks but not with any kind of pattern so that he would never know which one it was going to come down on.  His face was pressed into the wet pillow and the ropes twisted as he pulled against them, the only explanation for that being he liked to feel them around his wrists. 

       “Do you like this?” I asked.

       “Yes, Nicole!” he asked, as I smacked him again.  “Spank me more, Nicole!”

       I gladly obliged.

       “Do you like being tied up?” I asked.

       “Yes, Nicole!  Please tie me up more!”

       “You will wait until Tuesday for that.” I said, though that seemed impossibly far away, and I didn’t know how I wasn’t going to give in before then.

       The timer went off and I stopped spanking him.  I reached over to shut it off.

       “Roll back over so I can see how hard you are.” I said, and he obeyed.  I smiled and licked my lips as I ran my finger down his penis from tip to base, and he shuddered and moaned.

       I reached down into my bag and pulled out the clothespins.

       “Where should I attach these?” I asked him, tracing a light path across his stomach with one.

       “Oh, on my nipples, make them hurt…”

       I smacked his nipple with as much sting as I could.        

       “On my nipples, Nicole!  Please put clothespins on my nipples, pinch them with pain…” he said, and my heart raced uncontrollably as I did so, doing as he asked.  He moaned at first, and then whimpered louder and louder as the pain increased, and then softer and softer which turned into deeper moans as I stroked his dick with my fingers.

       “Oh, it hurts so good…use me, do with me as you please…” he moaned.

       “Oh, I am.” I said, and I reached under and squeezed his balls, slowly harder and harder until he whimpered, and then struggled, and his dick grew impossibly purple.

       “You really like this.” I said.

       “YES!” he screamed, and I squeezed harder and tugged on the nipple-pegs, making him cry out, his delicious voice in exquisite agony causing pleasure to radiate through my ears.

       “Oh God, I’m going to cum!” he said, so I immediately removed the nipple pegs and stopped stroking his dick, tears streaming down his face.

       “I’m so hard, now, if you want me to have sex with you as hard as I did yesterday, we gotta do it now…” he said.

       “You will have sex with me, you will thrust as hard as you can, but I am staying in charge today, you already had your fun.” I said, and he melted with desire and want and moaned on the bed.  I stood up and removed all of my clothing quickly, then turned around and sat on his upper chest, spreading my legs so my slit opened before him.

       “Ohhh…” he said, and he raised his head and started to suck, and I laughed.

       “I didn’t even have to ask..” I said, and he moaned into my flesh as I held him down with my weight, his arms still tied above his head.

       He sucked and nipped and licked just as he had the day before, until I pulsed with want and was dying to have him inside me as I squeezed his head with my thighs.

       I slid down and grabbed a condom off the nightstand, tearing it open.  I rolled it down his dick as quickly as I could for my first time doing such a thing, and he moaned and closed his eyes. 

       I reached down at cut the ropes that held his wrists, and then I got off of him.

       “Push me to the bed.” I demanded, and he obeyed, the long ropes hanging from his wrists getting in the way and we shifted them around for a moment.  He then placed his hands on my shoulders and pushed me down.  I spread my legs for him.

       “Enter me.” I demanded, and he obeyed, pushing his hard, swollen dick up into my vagina and I cried out as it hurt less than I expected, and felt even more desirable than I’d remembered.  Matt moaned as he started to move, to slide in and out, and I grabbed the ropes around his wrists so that he could not remove his hands from my shoulders.  He twitched with want and pushed into me harder.

       “Harder, faster.” I said, and he obeyed.  “Make me feel how big and hard your penis is; make me know you’re inside me.”

       He moaned and started to pump faster, harder, and the soreness in me doubled and I didn’t care, it felt good; it felt good to have sex with Matt, to look up and see the pleasure on his face and to know that within it, he was completely under my control.

       Eventually his eyes flew open and he screamed, and then he pulsed, orgasming wet, gooey warm liquid that poured out from between our legs.  The heat and deliciousness that I felt was indescribable as I watched him orgasm, as I watched him feel pleasure, and I shuddered with a hundred delicious emotions.

       He collapsed on top of me and I released his wrists.  I wrapped my arms around his back and held him close, both of us reveling in the satisfaction, the wet stickiness between our legs dripping down towards the bed.

       “I think I should go on the birth control pill.” I said contemplatively, after a few minutes.  He moaned and I could see it was a struggle for him to bring his mind around back to reality.

       “That’s not a bad idea.” he said. 

       “For now I have to go wash up.  You will stay here.  Arms above your head.” I said, and he obeyed, his cheeks flushed from his previous satisfaction, his dick now little and small and limp.  The ropes were shorter now so he had to scoot higher up the bed for me to tie him back to the pipes, but when I was done he looked just as delicious as before.  I searched the floor for his boxers and then decided that wasn’t tight enough.  I went over to his dresser and started rummaging through it.

       “Hey!” he said, and I turned my head towards him.

       “What?”

       “Stop going through my stuff.”

       “No.  You are mine and I can do whatever I want to you.  You said it before.”

       His response was to moan and I had the satisfaction of watching his little dick try to grow again, already.  I searched through all the drawers, finding jeans, socks, boxers, pajamas, and then finally what I was searching for: a nice, tight pair of white briefs.  I pulled them out and slipped them over his feet, and he didn’t need to be told to raise his knees or his ass so that I could get them onto him properly.

       “What…”

       I smacked his thigh.

       “Be quiet.”

       When I reached his thighs I pulled the condom off of him with wet sucking sounds and tossed it to the side.  He was deliciously messy and I smirked as I pulled the underpants up onto him, high and tight.

       “What…”

       I smacked his thigh again.

       He shut up, and I shuddered with pleasure, him listening to me and doing as I commanded was almost as hot as him actually touching me with his tongue, his lips.  I then located his pants and slid them onto him, zippering them up, buttoning them securely.

       “Now I’m going to wash up.  Your bathroom better be as spotless as I like.” I said.  He didn’t reply and I started to wonder if he was figuring out what I was after.  I could do absolutely nothing about the humongous smirk on my lips and I didn’t do anything to try to hide it from him, either, as I stepped into the bathroom.

       Though it wasn’t perfect, it was certainly much, much cleaner than it had been the day before.  The sink was spotless, the toilet was , too.  The shower looked better but it was obvious that he had no idea what he was doing, but the fact that he’d tried gave me a rush of power.  The floor hadn’t been done, and I knew it wasn’t laziness but that he didn’t think of it.  In all, it was a pretty good attempt for a rich teenage boy’s first try at cleaning a bathroom.  I wanted to spank him, but I had already gotten to do that once and I debated if I should do it a second time or not as I turned on the hot water, grabbed a washcloth and a towel, and started to clean myself.  I had forgotten body wash; I would have to remember it tomorrow.

       I smiled as I thought of how late he must have stayed up to do it.  My smirk grew at the thought of me teaching him how to clean.  He would do it without a shirt on, of course, though I would let him wear pants because I didn’t want any harsh chemicals to burn his precious dick. 

       “This is an old toothbrush, you use it to get into tight cracks.”

       “Yes, Nicole.”

       My imagination made me very hot and after I cleaned all of his cum I started to masturbate, I was so very hot.  Besides, I needed to take my time, to give the Gatorade time to rush through his system, it had probably been almost an hour since he drank it and I knew it must have started taking effect. 

       I made myself very hot but stopped short of an orgasm; I wanted to feel burning hot, not satisfied.  He would make me feel satisfied, that was what he was for, and he would like it.

       I dried off and walked back into the bedroom where he struggled against his restraints.

       “Nicole, I have to piss.” he said.

       “I’ll bet you do.” was my answer, and I searched his face, seeing his reaction, and there it was, his acceptance smile that he could do nothing about.  So I knew he liked it, and the game continued.

       “Your bathroom is better, but it still needs work.” I said.  “I’m not going to punish you because you obviously tried, and it’s not your fault you’re a teenage boy.  In fact, that’s the reason I like you so much.” I said, tracing my finger along his chest.  He closed his eyes and his breathing increased at my feather-light touch, and I was dying to know what he was thinking.

       “What are you thinking?” I asked.

       “I…I’m not, really.” he said.  “Just feeling your power over me is intoxicating, the things you do to me, the way you play with my body…” he moaned softly and I lifted my hand to his cheek, putting my palm on the side of his face, running my thumb down across his lips, his delicious, sexy lips.

       “Nicky,” he said, and I grew worried that he wanted the game to end, though his cheeks were flushed with pleasure, “I know you were a virgin, but how many people were you with before me?”

       It was a fair question and I was so happy he hadn’t asked to be released that I sat on the edge of the bed and answered without hesitating.

       “I’ve kissed four other boys.” I said.  “Roger Stines, Blake Farley, Don Steinrich, and a kid who doesn’t go to our school that I met at summer camp once who’s name I don’t know.” I said.  “The first three took me on a few dates.  They were boring and didn’t do what I told them to so I dumped them.  Roger even cheated on me, though it didn’t break my heart like it did for you, precious, because I’m not as sweet as you.”

       He listened intently to every single word.

       “I’ve seen lots of boys’ dicks, I’ve seen lots of boys naked growing up, but they were all kids.” I said.  “None of them were as delicious as you.” I traced my fingertips lightly across his stomach and he twitched as it tickled him.  “None of them were mine like you are.” I said, tracing lower with my finger towards the bulge in his jeans, “And none of them have me, the way you do.”

       I pushed down with light pressure over his pelvis where his bladder was and he gasped and whimpered.

       “Nicole, I have to piss.” he said, and I smiled, releasing the pressure.

       “Obviously not bad enough, if you’re still holding it in.” I said, and his eyes grew wide.  I shrugged.

       “It’s been a fantasy of mine to make a boy pee his pants since I was like, five.  You will make it come true, and you will like it.” I demanded, and his eyes grew wider and then there was that smile that told me it was okay to continue.

       “Okay…but not on my bed, please.”  He didn’t add any name at all, though he said please, indicating he was still submissive.  So I decided to honor his request, and the more I thought about it the better that idea sounded.  A puddle of cum might soak through the sheets a little but it could mostly be washed out; a bladder full of pee was another story and it would soak into his mattress and make his room disgusting, which I did not want for him.

       “You are right, precious boyfriend.  You will hold out as long as we can, and then you can stand in the shower.”

       He moaned and grunted at the thought of such a thing, and I worried until that smile perked the corner of his lips.

       “Since you were five?” he asked, and now it was my turn to wear a smirk I couldn’t help.

       “Yes.”  I thought about it and decided that now, finally, I could tell my desires to a person who would appreciate them.  “When I first got to kindergarten, the teacher had a clothesline that crossed the room, which she hung our artwork from.  I used to dream about seeing all the boys in the class tied up to it, all in a row, naked as the girls walked by and looked at them.  Back when I was five that was all I wanted, just to look.”

       He stared at me with half-closed eyes and smiled deliciously.

       “You were always like this.” he said, and I nodded, and his smirk grew.

       “When I was in first grade, some bolt on the slide cracked or something and it stuck out sharp.  It scraped along my whole arm when I went down and I thought it was the most delicious sensation I’d ever felt.  I stood at the bottom of the slide staring at it, at the blood dripping down, feeling the pain dance through my body, making my dick tingle.  I remember the playground aid rushing over, people all around me, they got worried that I wasn’t talking or moving and just stood there, and they told my mother I must have gone into shock, but I didn’t.” he said.  “I was in euphoria.”  He closed his eyes as he panted at the memory.  “I had a scar for a few years but it’s gone now.  I want it back.”

       My heart raced as I couldn’t believe how similar we were, so very the same, and yet opposite so that I wanted to do things to him, and he wanted things done to him.  My heart raced.

       “We are so lucky we found each other.” I said, and his smile grew wide, a real, true genuine smile which showed his sexy dimple, that somehow did not erase the lustful smirk that he seemed unable to wipe from his lips.

       “We are.” he said.  “And Nicole I really can’t take it much longer, I really have to piss…”
       I reached down and pushed gently on his bladder and he grunted.

       “Nope; you didn’t scream loud enough, you can wait longer.” I said, and he moaned with misery and I watched his dick grow harder. 

       “I have an activity to pass the time.” I said, sliding up the bed.  “My pussy is all wet from our storytelling; clean it for me.” I said, facing his chest as I lowered my crotch onto him and he immediately began to lick me, to tease me deliciously, and I moaned partially at what he was doing but mostly at his lack of hesitation.  I reached down and pushed his bare shoulders to the bed, holding him in place as I started to rock back and forth as he lapped, and I felt the heat rise in me and it grew more delicious as the minutes went by.  The heat started to spike and pulse and I clutched his shoulders as he bit down on my swollen clitoris, and I cried out and moaned with pleasure as I started to pulse, to twitch between his teeth, and for the moment I was his, he was in control, and I loved it.

       The pulsing ceased and I collapsed forward, resting my cheek on his stomach, my ass in his face.

       “Mmmm…this is a delicious view.” he said.  He tried to move one of his hands to smack me and the ropes restrained him, which made me smile.

       “Tomorrow, I am going to make you pay for everything you did to me today…” he cooed, and he had the satisfaction of watching my clit pulse one more time at that thought.  I crawled off of him and poked his bladder. 

       “Ghagh!” he said, and started to pant.  “Please Nicole, don’t…” I poked it again and tears came to his eyes.  “Okay, okay!  I’ll piss my pants, I’ll like it, I’ll play with your pussy while I do it, just please, please let me piss!”

       That was what I wanted, to hear him beg, and so I reached up and untied his ropes from the pipe, using them as a sort of leash to pull him to his feet, and then the idea of an actual leash and collar around his neck turned my knees to jelly and I almost collapsed on the floor.  I led him out into the den, which was far colder than his room, and my nipples grew hard.  His were hard already, and I smiled that he liked this that much.

       I led him to the bathroom and pointed for him to stand in the shower.

       “Now hold on while I show you the places you missed.” I said.  “Hands behind your head.”

       He whimpered and obeyed.  I made him wait another two minutes or so while I pointed out the floor, the mildew in the shower cracks, the dust on top of the toilet tank.

       “Nicole, may I piss now, please?” he asked, his voice cracking with need, and I nodded.

       “Okay.”

       Nothing happened.  He winced.

       “Ugh…I can’t.” he said.  “I’m really trying but I can’t…”

       I thought about that and believed him.

       “I know.” I said.  “Stand here.”

       I stood him in front of the toilet as he face it.

       “Start in the toilet, then shove it back in your pants and stand in the shower.” I demanded, and he nodded.  He unzippered his fly and fished out his dick and yelled with relief as the pee started to flow, and then to my delicious satisfaction, he did what I told him.  He tucked it back into his pants, continuing to pee, stepped into the shower and zippered them up, replacing his now wet hands behind his head.

       I cummed, somehow producing more of the wet, gooey liquid that never seemed to stop flowing when I was with him, as I watched the wetness appear in his crotch area and spread, going down his right leg, absorbed by the jeans, and he cried with relief. I reached out and pinched his nipples and he cried out.

       “What does it feel like?” I demanded.

       “Gross.”

       This answer was not to my liking.  I decided to guide him.

       “Is it hot?”

       “Yes.”

       “Is it wet?”

       “Yes.”

       “Does it feel good to your bladder?”

       “Yes.”

       “Are you humiliated?”

       “Yes.”

       “Do you like it?”

       His dark eyes flew open and stared directly into mine.

       “Yes.” he said, and I couldn’t help it, I pulled him to me by his nipples and kissed him, long and delicious and sweet, while I pinched his nipples and the pee started to drip into the bottom of the tub, and he moaned but didn’t move, because he knew I didn’t want him to.  I released him, my eyes half closed.

       “I feel satisfied, now.” I said, finally, and he let his arms fall, panting as he leaned over, resting his wet hands on his pee-soaked thighs as he bent over.  It was a delicious sight; I decided I would have it again sometime.

       “Matt, do you feel satisfied?” he nodded, taking in a few breaths.  “Yes, Nicky.” he said, his hair hanging over, obscuring his face from me as he stared at the floor of the tub and nodded.  We had both used the other’s regular name; the game was over.  He stood up, the smirk on his face inescapable.

       “That was damn sexy.” he said, and I laughed as he smiled, a regular kind of smile.

       “I want to say today was the best day of my life, but I don’t think anything will top you taking my virginity.” I said, and he shuddered.

       “We could keep on trying every day, anyway.” he said, and my heart raced as I inhaled.  He paused for a moment and took a deep breath.

       “Nicky, do you think there’s something wrong with us?” he asked me timidly, standing up straight, his voice cracking with worry.

       “No, I don’t.” I said.  “The Internet’s full of people like us.”

       “I know, but…” he paused.  “It’s still not normal.”

       “Nobody’s normal.  So our unusual thing is the way we like sex, so what?”

       “But…why are we like this?” he asked, and I could see real worry on his face.  I wanted to hold him in my arms, but he was covered in piss, so I stayed where I was, two feet from him.

       “I don’t care why.” I said.  “Matt, are you happy with me?”

       “Hell yes.” he said, unable to keep the smirk from growing on his face.

       “And I am deliciously happy with you.” I said.  His smile grew wider.  “So then we have a good relationship, don’t you think?”

       “I love being with you.  I would not eat if it meant I could be with you more.” he said, and I smiled at the power he gave to me, even though I knew he gave it to me on purpose, it was still delicious.

       “I am actually hungry.” I said.  “You wanna go out?  Go on a real date, somewhere?”

       His face beamed and I laughed.

       “Clean yourself off, I’m going to get dressed.” I said, and I heard him turn on the water as I stepped out of the bathroom.

       

       We decided to go to a pizzeria/Italian restaurant in the heart of town.  Both of us wanted to be seen together.  We were and item and everybody was going to know it.

       I love the way he drove, like an insane maniac, darting between the other cars, slamming on his breaks.  It sometimes made me a little nervous but mostly I loved how he was in total control, my very life in his hands, and how I had no choice but to trust him.

       He got out and walked around to open my door for me, then held out his hand as I took it.

       “I wish I had something nicer to wear.” I said.

       “I have tons of money.  I’ll buy you whatever you want.” he said.

       “You know it’s every girl’s dream to hear a boy say that to her.” I said, and he stood behind me and wrapped his arms around me, pulling my ear close to his lips.

       “You’re not every girl and I can think of ten other things you’d like to hear more.” he whispered, and my cheeks flushed and I slapped his chest as I spun away, and he laughed.  He reached out his hand for mine, never forgetting that I told him he should always hold it, and he took it sweetly as we walked inside.

       We spent dinner oogling at each other like two kids in love are supposed to.  It felt great, everyone’s eyes on us as I knew they were jealous, and I knew more rumors would spread around school at how ridiculously sweet we were together. 

       “Why do you wear tomboy clothes, Nicky?” he asked me.  “You’re the damn hottest girl I ever saw, it’d be nice if you showed your body off.”

       “I will if you want me to.” I said, and his jaw dropped slightly and his eyes lit up.

       “Really?”

       “Yes, Matthew.” I said, and he grinned as I gave him the power.

       “We are going shopping tomorrow.” he said.

       “Yes, Matthew.”

       “You will wear whatever I buy for you.”

       “Yes, Matthew.”

       His smirk grew and his eyes sparkled, and I wondered what exactly he had in mind.

       He drove me home after dinner, around nine o’clock.

       “I stayed up until three in the morning last night cleaning.” he said.  “I really want to get to sleep.”

       I kissed him long and deep in the street and then walked up to the house.  My parents were still awake.  I sighed as I walked in the door and there they both were, waiting for me.

       “Who was that?” Dad accused.  I sighed.

       “Matt Stanson.”

       Mom smiled a little and Dad raised his eyebrow.

       “I don’t recall giving you permission to let boys drive you around.”

       I rolled my eyes.

       “It’s not boys, Dad, it’s boy (I inwardly shuddered with pleasure at the word), and he took me out to dinner.”

       Mom clasped her hands together and smiled, as Dad did his best to look disapprovingly at me, but I could tell he really wasn’t.

       “You had a date?” Mom asked.  I tried to roll my eyes, but instead an incontrollable smile came to my face, and I had to fight with all I had just to make it a smile, not a smirk.

       “Yeah, I had a date.”

       Mom squeaked and threw her arms around me, and I satiated her by hugging her back.

       “Is that who you were with last night, until past midnight?” Dad asked, all business, all serious.  Mom pulled away from me.

       “Yes.” I said defiantly, challenging them, seeing what they would do.

       “And what were you doing with this boy until the morning hours last night?”

       Things you would never approve of.

       “He’s an artist.  I met him in poetry club.  Last night we hung out in his room and he played his guitar for me.”  And he thrust into me, over and over and over…

       “Oh!  That is so romantic!” Mom squeaked, before Dad could complain.  Dad sighed in her direction.

       “Meg, you’re not helping.” he said, and Mom giggled.  She was, in my opinion, at total ditz most of the time, always rattling on about fashion and gossip and hair, which was probably why I turned out so opposite from her.  She just did whatever Dad told her most of the time, let him make all the decisions because she just plain didn’t know anything.  And I hated it.  I wished she would grow a backbone now and then.

       “Sorry, Ed.”

       ‘Sorry, Ed’. I mocked in my mind.  I’d kill myself before I ever sounded so whiney towards Matt.  Ever.

       “Well, you are seventeen, and I suppose it was to be expected you’d actually notice one of the boys you hang around with, eventually.”

       I had to struggle to keep from laughing.  I had always noticed them.  I had just been waiting for one of them to finally notice me.

       “What’s his name, again?”

       “Matt.”

       “Okay, Matt.” Dad said.  “Nicky, I know you’re actually going to listen to very little of what I say, so I hope this sinks in.  Please don’t get pregnant.”

       “Dad!”

       “That’s all I’m asking.”

       He put his palms up defensively, and I started to argue when I realized that he wasn’t being unreasonable. 

       He was being understanding.  He was being cool.

       “We used condoms.” I said.  Dad’s face grew pale and I had to struggle not to laugh and run away in fear at the same time.

       “Okay.” he squeaked.  “Why was that word plural?  Nicky, how long have you known this boy?”

       Forever and ever and ever.  It felt like that long.

       I shrugged.

       “I don’t know; he’s in my grade.” I said.  Technically, that was true.  I could have placed the name ‘Matt Stanson’ with his face probably as far back as middle school.

       “Nicky, please, please be careful.”

       “I told you; we used condoms.” I said.  Dad nodded, his face pale.

       “Am I done being interrogated now?” I asked, and he nodded again while Mom giggled like a little schoolgirl.  You would have sworn she was a virgin, the way she was blushing.  I walked down the hall to my room and shut the door.

       I told my parents about you, I texted him.  I lay down on my back and stared up at the ceiling.  The smirk slowly grew and became a wide grin on my face.  Well, I had told them I was screwing a boy named Matt Stanson, but I hadn’t really told them anything about him.  And I knew that I never would.  The idea that what we shared was such a strong secret between us made me glow inside with power and love.  He was special.  He was precious.  And he was mine.

       And that was Thursday.

       “I like this.” he said on Friday after school, pulling a tight black t-shirt off the shelf in the department store and dumping it over the already heavy pile in my arms.  It wasn’t very revealing; none of the clothes he had so far selected for me were, but they were all tighter than what I was used to, making my breasts and hips and ass show off their curves when I wore them.

       “I like this, too.” he said, pulling a low-cut v-neck design tee off the rack.  “It will show off your cleavage.”  He tossed it on top of the pile.

       I blushed and burned with heat.  It felt strange, but I almost couldn’t wait to show up to school in these new clothes, these sexier clothes, and then when everyone asked me why I’d changed my style so suddenly I could tell them it was because of Matt.

       “These are nice.” he said, holding up a pair of stretch jeans that were cut very low.  “Though we’ll have to get you low-cut panties to go with them.  Oh, we are heading to lingerie.” he said, and heat burned in me as I felt wetness pour out between my legs.  I followed him and I found it funny that he knew exactly where women’s lingerie was, and I had no idea.  He inspected the garments with a businesslike intention, digging through the racks like they were any other kind of clothes, and I saw some older ladies staring at him and I grinned in their direction.  They blushed and turned their faces away, and I smiled with triumph.

       Skimpy, lacey garments started to appear on top of the pile I held, in black, in white, in red.  Panties.  Thongs.  G-strings.  Lacey bras.  Garters.  My ears turned brighter and brighter red as he piled on some very suggestive things.

       “Okay, that’s enough to start.” he said.

       To start?  I could barley hold up the pile it was so heavy!  He led me to the dressing room.

       “You will show me each thing, so I can decide if I approve.” he said, and I grinned.

       “Yes, Matthew.” I said, and his lustful smirk made me almost melt into a puddle right there. 

       I tried on a tight, black dress he had chosen that I had to admit, made me look damn good.  It was strapless and it forced my breasts up high, making the cleavage bigger, while the tightness around my ass made my curves stick out.  It had a black lacey pattern sewn into the cloth that made it look more elegant than slutty, though plenty of the clothes Matt had picked out looked like they were too revealing even for a night club.

       I walked out into the store with it on, feeling a little embarrassed at my exposure as he directed me to turn and slid his eyes over me, inspecting.  He did this for every top and bottom I had to try on.

       “Nope, not sexy enough.” he’d say, or “Mmmm…I like that one.”

       The heat was building between my legs as he exerted total dominance over me, directing my every move, and it was hot because we both knew that I was allowing him to do this.  I was permitting him to have power; I truly had the power and I could take it back at any time. 

       “There’s only the lingerie left, and I don’t think the store will let me parade around out here in it.” I said, and he smirked.

       “We’ll just buy it all, then, and I can inspect it at home.”

       My ears grew hot as I started to realize what he had planned for me this evening.  He smirked when he saw my reaction.

       “Mmmm…you do like it.” he said softly, and my breathing quickened as he stepped towards me, and I was wearing nothing but a skimpy purple camisole top over a short, tight black skirt.  “I think we’ll have a fashion show, later.” he said, putting his hand behind my head and kissing me powerfully, deliciously.  I couldn’t keep the smirk from my face as wetness drowned me in my boring, un-lacey underpants.

       He drove me back to his house with a smirk on his face and we carried the bags in through the back door under the deck and dropped them on the floor.  I turned to walk towards the bathroom when suddenly his left arm was tight around my throat, his right arm wrapped around my waste, crushing my body to him forcefully as his lips brushed my ear.

       “You’re gonna pay for everything you did to me yesterday.” he said, and my heart started to race impossibly fast.  “I’m gonna tease you and torture you until you beg me to fuck you, and them I’m going to, over and over until you beg me to stop and then I won’t.” he promised, as he dragged me, grinning from ear to ear, already soaking wet between my legs, to his bedroom.

       He kicked the door closed and removed his arm from around my waste as I felt him twist and heard a soft click.

       Then he slid the key into his pocket and re-wrapped his arm tightly around my waste.

       “You’re trapped in here with me now, little kitty, for me to do with as I please.”

       My heart pounded with desire in my ears as his lips brushed them, then his tongue, and he began kissing down my neck, sort of releasing his hold on me.  I struggled, just to see if I could get away.  His grip tightened firmly, cutting off my air.

       “No, no.  You’re mine.” he said, and my knees turned to jelly as he dragged me to the bed, pushing me down on my back, crushing my chest with one knee and my pelvis with the other as he fished around for something.  I tried to grab his balls for defense, but his jeans protected him and I felt a very hard slap on the side of my ass.

       “Be good, or you’ll pay.” he said, and even in the darkness I could hear the delicious smirk on his lips and I longed to see it; just imagining it there was torture.

       He found what he was looking for and then his hands were busy undoing the button and zipper of my jeans, which he yanked down roughly, only to my thighs. 

       Then I felt soft rope slide underneath my thigh and he pulled it up so it ran under my ass and then over my pelvis, snug against my inside thigh like a mountain climbing harness, which he wrapped several times around the very top of my leg.

       “Oh, Matthew…” I said dreamily, and I practically heard the smirk on his face.

       “Stay still.” he directed, pushing his hand against my throat for emphasis before he got off of me to tie the end of the rope to the pipe in the far wall, and my ability to slide down the bed further was removed.  Then he returned and did my right side, making me feel almost silly for a moment because I could not understand what this kind of tying would accomplish.

       Then I felt more rope wrap around my right knee, and he pulled it taught and secured it somehow underneath the bed.  My breathing quickened as he wrapped rope around my left knee, pulling it firmly to the bed, tying it somewhere underneath, and now my legs were spread wide open, tied down for him.  I still could have scooted up the bed, towards the wall with the pipes, until he removed my pants the rest of the way and then wrapped rope around my ankles, tying them together, and then ran a rope from that down under the foot of the bed somewhere, and I was completely immobile from the waste down.

       “You’ve done this before…”

       Smack.  The slap landed hard across my upper, inner thigh, which was left completely exposed.

       “No talking unless I ask you a question.” he commanded, and I was glad it was dark because my giant grin might have ruined the mood.  Of the two of us, Matt was certainly the more submissive one and I frankly never fantasized about being dominated.  Except that I was already helpless against Matt, in any circumstances, ready to submit to whatever he wanted from me- which was usually his submission.  And now he wanted dominance.  And since all I really ever wanted was to give him what he wanted, I found myself happy to relinquish my power, though that was exactly how I saw it: I had the power, and he asked me for it, and I chose to give it to him.  I was left utterly confused as to who was in control and I didn’t even care.  I wanted to be with Matt no matter how and if he wanted to dominate, he could.  At least for today.  Plus, he was good at it.

       He had left the bed and I heard him open the door, a dim stream of light illuminating the room and then he returned a moment later with something lacey in his hand, and then he shut and locked the door again and I could no longer see.  I heard more soft rustling, and then his weight was on the bed behind me.

       “Sit up and stick our your arms in front.” he demanded, and I obeyed, and I felt his hands lifting my shirt off of me, and then my bra.  I then felt him slip something silky over my hands, up my arms, and then he clasped some kind of lacey, silky bra that was far too small onto me.  It squished my breasts together, making them seem bigger than they were, and I enjoyed myself quite nicely as he squeezed them, shifting the cloth around, getting them to sit the way he wanted.

       Then his hands pressed my arms back down and he wrapped his arms around my stomach, and I felt his bare chest against my back and realized he had removed his shirt at some point.  He then leaned in gently towards my ear.

       “Nicky, do you know what a safe word is?” he asked me, which simultaneously caused my heart to race and my stomach to drop with fear.  Yes, I knew what a safe word was, and what was he planning to do that he thought I would need one?

       “Yes.” I said.  “And we already have it.  My safe word is Matt.  Your safe word is Nicky.  It puts the game on pause. You just used it.” I said, and I felt him smile in such a cute way as his lips brushed my ears.

       “Yeah, but I wanna be super-clear.  Up till now, when I did something new, I’ve been waiting to hear you confirm that it’s okay by saying ‘Matthew’.  I don’t wanna have to do that; I don’t wanna have to stop and wait.  I wanna change it so that I will keep going no matter what you say, unless you actually say ‘Matt.’” he said, his voice shaky in my ear as I could feel his excitement building.  “Though I do still love when you call me by my full name…”

       “I accept your conditions, Matthew.” I said, and he growled low in his throat and pushed me hard down onto the bed, his bare knee on my chest, and I found myself wondering when he had removed his clothes.

       “I want to hurt you, I want to torture you, I want to make you scream.” he growled, his voice deliciously shaky as his fingers danced across my chest, lightly brushing my nipples, making them hard, and then he pinched them between his fingers and I gasped.

       “You are mine.” he said, and he pinched them a little harder and I should have told him to stop, but instead I felt a river of cum flow out between my legs and his smell was intoxicatingly delicious, and all I wanted was for him to touch me, any way he wanted, and even if I hadn’t been tied down I wouldn’t have moved.  It was impossible for me to move away from him; I wanted him close too badly.

       “I am yours, here for your pleasure, do whatever you want to me…” I said, and then he shifted and straddled my chest, pinning my arms to my sides with his knees and I felt his balls, and then his ass, sink down onto my chest and I really couldn’t move at all, except for my head.  And I loved it; my heart raced with excitement as he grabbed my breasts, pushing them together, and strained the material as he slipped his penis in up between them and I felt how hard he was.  He started to slide in and out, pleasing his cock with my tits, and the tip of him touched my chin as he moaned softly.

       “Mmmm…” he said.  “Kiss it, when it comes to you.”

       I shook with excitement and did as he asked, though I had to go by timing since I couldn’t see in the darkness.  I tasted his precum and thought it was delicious, and how I wanted more.  He squeezed my breasts, pinching my nipples in his fingers as he moved faster and faster, his breathing getting more ragged, and then I felt a rush of blood in his dick and he suddenly pulled out.

       He groaned and hissed through his teeth, as if in pain, and he expressed this by pinching my nipples even harder, making me squeak.

       “Mmmm…how badly I want to cum all over your face, make you drink it, cover you in it…but I promised you a good, hard fucking, so I have to wait.” he said, his voice incredibly husky as he shook and I was thoroughly impressed with his self-control.  He squeezed my nipples over and over, resting his ass and balls on my stomach, and I could not feel his cock since it was in the air with hardness.

       He let go of my left nipple to reach towards the nightstand, and I started to wonder just how many toys he had strewn about the room, which must have been the reason for the darkness.  It was growing more apparent to me that Matt liked surprises; he liked to hear me gasp with shock, and I reminded myself to do it to him in return.

       I felt something hard, not a finger, pinch my left nipple lightly and then he released it.  Then he pinched it again, then released it, over and over, each time pinching a little harder and harder, sometimes pulling at my nipple, making it extremely swollen and hard.

       Then the pinching got more intense.  It started to hurt far more than his fingers, and I cried out.

       “Damn, I was like, halfway there.” he said as he paused, keeping whatever it was there, but not increasing the pressure as I got used to it.  I panted for a moment and then he increased the pressure again, and my voice betrayed me again, and he sighed as if annoyed.

       “So sensitive.” he said, running his fingertips lightly across my other breast. “Don’t worry; I’ll fix that.” he said, and then the pinching grew worse and then it was suddenly released.  I sighed with relief, and he laughed.

       “This is nothing, kitty.” he said, and my heart pounded in my ears as he called me that, as he stroked my nipples, his scent wafting over me so delicious, making me so helpless.        

       “Let’s try again.” he said, and he started the pinching again, pinch, release, pinch, release, over and over until my nipple started to be able to take the pain, and what he was doing started to feel really, really good.  By the time he fully released what I had by now guess was a clothespin, I actually moaned.

       “Good kitty.” he said, and I knew the smirk on my face was huge as he called me that.  I moaned again, and then he started working on my right nipple, little pinches that grew harder and lasted longer, all the while the pain increasing in my left nipple again.  He almost had it on when I started to whimper and tried to squirm, but he held my arms pinned to the bed firmly with his knees.

       “Matthew, take it off!  It hurts!” I said, and he giggled softly and released the clothespin fully on my right nipple instead.

       “Yah!” I shouted, and tears started to leak down my eyes as cum poured out between my legs.

       “If you beg, I might change my mind…”

       “It’s too much!  Please take it off, you can put it back on in a minute just give me a break!”

       “That’s not very good begging.  What’s in it for me?”

       “You can fuck my tits again, I’ll suck your dick, take it all the way back to my throat…”

       The clothespins were both suddenly gone.

       “That sounds like a good offer.” he said.  “Except…you’re all tied up, kitty.  I don’t know how you’re going to do that.”

       And the pins were back, and this time, it felt good.  The pain was intoxicating; radiating down into my chest, pulsing with my heartbeat, sending waves of sensation through my chest.  I panted heavily.

       “Mmmm…I think she likes it now.” he said, but even as he spoke the pain increased slowly and I knew I couldn’t last for long this way.

       “Please take them off, Matthew.  I’ll do whatever you say.”

       “Of course you will.  You’re mine.” he replied, and he started to flick the ends of the pins, which caused delicious sensations to radiate through me for a few seconds before it all became too much and I started to whimper.  Then they were gone.

       “That was good practice.” he said, and I whimpered, and he laughed.  “I know you’re just a beginner so I gave you nice, soft lace for protection, and nice, soft cotton…” he cooed, and he reached behind him and traced his fingers lightly across my clitoris, through the cloth of my underwear, and I gasped from the pleasure and also from what he threatened to do.  He pinched my clit through the cloth and I sucked in air, and he laughed.

       “You are so very wet; you must like this so much.” he said, squeezing harder, and my only response was to cum more and moan.

       “Now I’m going to get up.  Be a good kitty and don’t you move.  Your hands are free so you can please me if I want, but I’ll tie them up if I have to.”

       “Yes, Matthew.” I said, and he got up and I whimpered as his dick brushed over my stomach, hard and hot, and I wanted to squeeze it so badly, and then it was gone.

       He sat down between my legs and I felt his fingers start to rub me on the outside of my underwear.  He was gentle, he was slow, he slid his finger in exactly the right place.  I moaned and started to twitch with heat.

       “Mmm…you like that, don’t you?” he asked.

       “Yes, Matthew.”

       “It’s making me hot, teasing you.” he said, and then he flicked my clit and a little sting shot up through my nerves.  And then I felt the pinch as the clothespin closed around it, and I took it as much as I could before I yelled, and he released.  He then repeated the treatment he had given my nipples, though more slowly, more gradually, pulling and letting go more times before he let it squeeze harder and harder.  I grew hotter and hotter, now knowing what to expect from such sensations, and it made me want more and more, the cum dripping down to my ass crack through the soaked cloth.  I tried to move a few times to get closer to him, but I was absolutely immobilized from the waste down.

       He let go, the clothespin now freely clamped down on my clitoris, and I moaned and did not complain as the delicious pain shot through me.  He then started to flick the end of it, the sensations this caused ten times as pleasurable as the ones I’d felt in my nipples.

       “It’s almost like you have a dick,” he said, flicking it again as I moaned.  “It’s really cute.”

       He started to move the end of the pin all around, up, down, side to side, and it all felt delicious and made me very hot.  I felt the heat building; I felt the orgasm coming and I was about to explode when I gave a warning twitch, and he removed the pin.  Everything went totally numb, and my orgasm was left with nowhere to release.

       “Matthew, put it back!”  I begged.  “Please, I’m so close, please put it back!”

       He laughed softly.

       “In a minute.” he replied.  He started to gently stroke my clit with his finger, which was now too soft and gentle for me to even feel it at first.  But then the sensation returned, and his finger became a tease, too gentle, too light, not enough.

       “More!” I cried, but he didn’t respond and only continued to lightly tickle it, for a long time, until that started to feel good again.  I started to moan with pleasure, and then his finger was gone.

       I felt the pinch in my nipples as he clipped the clothespins onto them at the same time, and then the third one on my clit, and I inhaled sharply as delicious pain radiated through my whole body, everything completely sensitive in new ways I had never experienced.

       “Do you like it, kitty?” he asked, and I could hear the delicious smirk on his face.

       “Yes! Matthew, yes, keep going!”

       He started to play with the pin on my clit again, bringing me almost to orgasm, and then he removed it and I screamed with frustration.  He waited until I’d calmed down and then replaced it.

       “Oh, I need to see this…” he said, and then suddenly the lights were on and I squinted.  I looked down at the sight of me, clothespins on my nipples, on clamped on my clit through the underwear, my legs tied open with ropes.  They looked almost innocent; almost as if it was just cloth they were pinching, the depth of sensation they caused lost to the eyes.  I glanced over at Matt and caught a luscious glimpse of his naked body and very hard cock before he turned towards me with a bandana folded over in his hands.  I saw that lustful grin on his face that made me turn into jelly before he tied it securely over my eyes, and he could now see and I could not.

       Then all the pins were removed, and I heard him put them down.  Then I felt something cold and hard on my stomach, something metal, and I whimpered with fear once I realized it was scissors.

       “Shhhh…I’m not gonna hurt you with these.” he said, and as he slid the metal gently down my stomach I realized the tips were rounded.  He slid the metal under the top of my underpants, one metal arm of the scissors sliding over the top and the other down my slit as he slowly cut my underpants, right down the middle, and I could hear the sound of wet cloth being snipped.  He went until the bed stopped him, then went back up and cut the legs, and then he pulled the mangled material out from under me and I heard it drop on the floor somewhere.

       “Okay, that was very sexy.” I said, my breath hot, as he climbed up and sat on my stomach again, facing away from me but still pinning my arms down with his knees.

       Smack.

       The sting across my crotch radiated from my now extremely sensitive clit and I yelped with surprise.

       “Ohhhh…” I heard Matt’s voice shake with pleasure.  “Damn I’ve wanted to spank a hot wet pussy my whole life…” he said, and he smacked me again, the sting five times stronger in my very sensitive clit than anywhere else.  I could not move as he smacked me again, over and over, my legs tied open for him, totally exposed as he smacked it until red heat started to burn across my entire pelvis.  And I grew hotter and hotter.

       He stopped.  He slid back so that his hard cock dangled in my face, and then he ran his tongue down the slit in my pelvis and I nearly screamed from the gentleness of his soft, wet tongue.  I was so sensitive a feather would have hurt, and I could feel his smile as he licked me, ever so slowly and gently.

       “Kiss my dick, kitty.” he said, and I started to kiss the tip of his extremely swollen tip.

       “Copy me.  Lick if I lick, kiss if I kiss, bite if I bite.” he ordered, and my heart raced with desire as I obeyed, licking his tip as he licked my clit.  He switched to kisses; I switched to kisses.  Then he nipped me, and I screamed from pain and twitched with pleasure.  I then took his tip into my mouth and clamped down, and felt him swell and groan with want as I realized how much he liked it.  I promised myself that tomorrow, I would bite his dick nice and hard. 

       He started licking me again and then he didn’t stop, he concentrated on the same place, over and over, until it started to feel amazing and I hoped that this time, he would let me orgasm.  I grew closer and closer, hotter and hotter, and I started to twitch and I screamed, his dick getting the sensation of that vibration as I started to twitch uncontrollably and then

       Smack.

       I screamed at the unexpected sensations radiating through me.  Smack. Smack, smack.

       My twitching clit didn’t know what to do with itself and I tried to leap off the bed, my back tried to arch, but I could not move any inch of myself so I did the only action left to me.  I bit him.  Hard.

       He moaned.  I knew I had hurt him, I knew I bit to hard, and he nearly collapsed on top of me in helpless pleasure.  My surprise at this reaction caused me to loosen my grip and in that second he pulled out of my mouth and sat up.

       “Ohhhh…oh, you almost had me….” he said, his voice shaking.  I heard his panting as he stood up. 

       “That’s it.” he said, and he lay his stomach across my bent feet and clamped his mouth down hard on my pussy and sucked.  I yelped and then moaned as he worked his tongue in delicious ways, clearly going for my pleasure now, and I orgasmed very quickly and this was more than I could take; I had lost count of how many times he’d teased me and now I was finally given real release and I screamed, my vagina twitching with want, desperate to be filled.

       “Matthew, fuck me!  Fuck me hard!” I screamed, and instead he let me come down and continued to suck, so that it didn’t feel good; I didn’t like it at all and my nerves retreated into my body.  Then he reached up and pinched my nipples and in seconds I was hot again, his tongue magically commanding me to twitch, to want, to burn with passion and in another two minutes I was going off again, this one even more intense than the first…few?  I had lost count.

       “Matthew, please!  I want you in me, I want to feel your hard cock pushing up between my legs, fuck me, fuck me!”

       He let me come down and continued to lick me, ever so gently now as I was so sensitive that I twitched even from the air as he blew gently over me.  His tongue was like fire and I screamed with each lick, and when he nibbled the sensation was so overwhelming that I felt I would have been blind without the bandana, anyway.

       My voice hurt as I orgasmed a third? time, and then he finally released me as I started to come down, and his face was gone.

       Then I felt his weight on the bed on either side of me, his hands probably, and that was my only warning as his impossibly hard, huge dick pushed up into me fast, all the way, as deep as it could go and I screamed as he grunted with pleasure.  He moved hard and fast immediately, my clit still screaming with sensitivity, my body dying to move with him, my hips wanting to rise to him, but I could not, I could not move at all except to reach up and clasp his hair firmly in my hands to make sure that he could not get away.

       “Oh, YES!!!  YES, YES, YES!!!!” I screamed as he pumped, hard and fast, making my soreness from the last two days flare up as tears leaked from my eyes into my blindfold.  I was tired of not seeing.  I reached up and tore it off.

       He stopped instantly, pulled out of me and stood up.  I screamed at the loss of him.

       “I’m sorry!  I’m sorry!  I’ll put it back, fuck me, fuck me!”

       He stood with an impossibly hard cock encased in a condom, his hand on his chin like he was thinking about a math problem, but his jaw was clenched together as he must have been suffering as much as I was.

       “You know, I could just go off fucking your tits instead…”

       “No!  Please, orgasm inside me, let me feel you…”

       “Or I could have you suck my dick and go off in your mouth…”
       “No, Matthew, please please fuck my cunt…”

       He shrugged.

       “I could just jerk myself off standing over you, that would be pretty hot…”

       “What do I have to do to get you inside me again!?!?” I screamed, and the unmistakable, delicious lustful smirk grew wide and sexy on his face.  He crawled on top of my body, his palms on the mattress next to either side of my head, his knees straddling my hips, his cock teasing me as it brushed my stomach.  He looked into my eyes with a triumphant, burning gaze.

       “Tie me up tomorrow instead of Tuesday.” he said, his breath shaky and hot, and I realized he had me in a power struggle.  Right now, he had me where he wanted me.  He had me begging, he had me helpless.  If I gave in, I lost all my power, the thing I held over his head through the day, throughout school, and every evening.  If I held out I risked not completing my sex with him tonight, which I desperately, desperately wanted.

       Except that the thing he asked for was to be totally, completely submissive, and I wanted that as badly as he did.

       “Yes.” I said, and his eyes rolled back in his head and his dick somehow grew harder.  “Yes, fuck me now and I’ll make you pay tomorrow for everything you did tonight.”

       He whimpered, his voice cracking in a high pitch, as he slid down and thrust back into me, hard and fast, and it felt good, it felt so, so good, even though my body could not answer him, even though I could not rise my hips to him.  I closed my eyes sometimes and opened them for other moments, to watch his hair sway as he thrust, to watch his face hold such pure pleasure on it one moment, and then that delicious, undeniable smirk the next. 

       I don’t know how he did it for so long, except that he was obviously very skilled in self-denial; he had demonstrated that a few times already.  I added that to my list of things to play with tomorrow.  But he kept his promise; he fucked me for a long time, making me very sore, making me grunt louder with each thrust as sweat formed and glistened on his delicious body.  Then finally he screamed and shook, and I felt him pulsing inside of me, felt the warm liquid ooze down between my legs, and then he collapsed on top of me, panting and shivering.  He pulled out and I was left with a feeling of total emptiness and deep loneliness, and suddenly I was done.

       “Matt, I don’t want to be tied…”

       The scissors were in his hands and the ropes were cut in seconds, and I was free.  I cried out as I moved my legs; my joints had settled where they were and they cracked as I stretched out.  I stood up and removed the lacy bra which was now very annoying because it was too small, and I tossed it onto the floor.  I stretched my legs, walked around, and then collapsed back onto the bed in an exhausted heap.

       I turned towards him as he peeled the condom off, dropping it in the trash.  I held out my hand to him.

       “Matt, be with me.” I said, and then he was there, his strong, gentle arms wrapped around me, holding me close as I nestled my face in his sweaty chest.

       “Are you…okay?” he asked nervously.

       “Okay?  That felt amazing!” I said, and his body relaxed as he hugged me tighter.

       “Did you really like it?”

       “Like it?  Love it?  Best experience of my life, except for maybe yesterday and maybe Wednesday, when you took my virginity.”

       He whimpered and held me close to him, his breath shaky.  I heard him sniffle and looked up to see that he was crying.

       “Matt…” I said, worried, stroking his cheek with my palm.

       “Nicky, I…I…you’re saying and doing all the things I’ve always dreamed of and thought I could never really have…I can’t …I can’t….” he faltered in his words.

       “It’s okay.  I know exactly how you feel.” I said, and I kissed him gently, sweetly on his lips, and he leaned his head back so my face was on top of his, and I knew that even after his amazing dominant performance, he was still mine.

       I put my hand on his cheek.

       “That was fucking hot.” I said.  He smiled, an adorable, genuine, straight smile.

       “Did I earn my reward?” he asked, and I pinched his nipple.  He yelped and I giggled.

       “Yes, you earned your reward.” I said, “Is that what this was all about?”

       He smiled adorably at me.

       “Well, it’s not all what this was about…I had a damn good time.”

       I laughed, hard, lowering my head so my hair piled on his chest.

       “You did all of that, just to make me beg, so you could demand I tie you up sooner?”

       He shrugged.

       “You ordered me to have sex with you every day, and to always be too rough.” he said, and my jaw dropped.

       “That was why…”
       He grinned.  I smacked his chest again, and he laughed. 

       “Plus you seemed to really, really like it.” he added.

       I sighed and rested my cheek on his chest.

       “I did.”

       I saw him smirk.

       “And you,” I said, “really, really liked it when I bit your dick way too hard.”

       He stiffened as if he was afraid.  He swallowed.

       “Matt?”  I asked, but his only answer was shaky, nervous breaths.  I raised my head to look at him.  He looked petrified.  Absolutely terrified.  I bit my lower lip.  I wasn’t sure how much of this was a game, and how much of it was real.  Sexually we clearly like to take turns being dominant; but how about emotionally?  Mentally?  Did I really have power over him, like he said?  I decided now was the time to find out.

       “You will tell me what is wrong.” I ordered, and he froze stiffer but his mouth opened, almost against his will, and he looked ready to cry.

       “I’m afraid.” he said.

       “Of what?”

       His face crumpled into absolute desperation.

       “Please…please don’t leave me, please don’t, I’ll do anything you ask, everything you say, you don’t have to tie me up tomorrow or Tuesday or ever, I’ll clean my bathroom better, I’ll clean your bathroom, I’ll…”

       I reached up and covered his lips with my finger.

       “I am not going to leave you.” I said, very firmly.  “Why would you think that?”

       He looked like he was at war with himself.  He looked like the last thing he wanted to do was talk, yet he betrayed himself as he was unable to resist what I ordered him to do. 

       “Because you found out I’m a masochist…”

       “I already knew that.  You know what?  You taught me today that so am I.”

       “But you found out I love pain…”

       “I already knew that.  I found that out yesterday, with the scissors.”

       He stiffened again.

       “Matt I am not going to leave you.” I said, and he nodded weakly.

       “Yes, Nicole.” he whispered, but I could tell that he didn’t believe me, for some reason.  I realized this all must have to do with his other lover; the woman who was not Melanie.  I decided not to press it any further today, and I made up my mind that tomorrow, I would interrogate him.  All his secrets were coming out, while he was tied up and could not get away, and then after that I would fuck him, and he would know that I still wanted him.  If that didn’t work, I wasn’t sure what to do.  For now, I wanted to make him feel better.

       “Play me a song, Matt.” I said, and I felt him instantly relax.

       “Yes, Nicole.  Which one?”

       I realized he had to ask that; he needed my permission to let him choose.

       “One that always makes you feel good.” I said, and he got up and started turning on his equipment.

       “I’m going to wash off.” I said.  “You may wash off after me, and the we’ll get dressed, and you will serenade me with music.”

       “Yes, Nicole.” he said softly, his eyes downcast, and I wanted to cry because he looked so sad.

       After we were dressed and he started to play, however, he began to feel better.  By the time he played through three songs, his usual delicious smile was back, and he was making flirtatious faces at me over his guitar.  We hung out until ten o’clock at night, when I became so hungry I couldn’t stand it anymore, and I wanted to go home.  He pulled up in front of the house and stared out the windshield, thinking.  I grabbed his chin and kissed him sweetly.

       “You may call me tonight, if you get lonely or afraid.” I said, and he looked at me with gratefulness.

       “Why are you so nice to me?”

       I cocked my head to the side at the strange question.  I put my hand on the side of his cheek.

       “Because I love you, puppy.” I said.  The name popped out of my mouth before I thought about it, and he closed his eyes.

       “Is it strange that I called you that?” I asked. 

       “No.” he said softly, gazing into my eyes.  “I like it.”

       I smiled at him and kissed him sweetly.

       “You will go home, go to bed, and rest peacefully.  Tomorrow is going to be a very strenuous day for you and you need your rest.”

       His breathing quickened with heat.

       “Yes, Nicole.”

       I kissed him one last time and opened the car door.  I watched his car until he turned the corner, and then heard his wheels squeal on the pavement as he hit the main road, and that was Friday.

       On Saturday I slept in very, very late.  Staying up late every night, and the activities we did every afternoon, had worn down my body and I was exhausted.  It felt amazingly good to rest, and I hoped Matt had rested well, as I had directed him to.

       My family was up and about; my dad was watching a baseball game and my mom was fussing in the kitchen. 

       I went to sit up and felt horrifically sore.  I gasped and lay back down on the bed, and a slow, wide smile spread across my face as I recalled all the events that had caused me to become sore.  Just the memory of it made me wet, and I grinned as I slowly stretched my body.  I reached for my phone and checked it for messages.

       My parents just told me they’re leaving for the weekend; they’ll be gone around noon.

       My heart started to pound. His parents would be gone.  That meant we didn’t have to worry about staying in his room; we could use his whole apartment; he could even show me the rest of his house.  My heart started to pound with the possibilities.  I glanced over at my backpack, which was full of rope from the dollar store that I could walk to in town, and I had also bought an apron, and some cleaning supplies.  I grinned.

       Come pick me up as soon as they’re gone. I said.

       Yes Nicole. was his reply, and I smiled and felt more wetness between my legs.  This was going to be the best day of my life, I just knew it.

       I got up and took a nice, long, hot shower, which eased the soreness a bit.  I got out and walked towards the kitchen, passing the living room on the way.

       “Did you use protection?” my dad pestered me.  I rolled my eyes.

       “Yes.”

       I walked quickly out of the room as it looked like he was about to say more.  Mom was humming as she cooked something or other.  I sat at the table and waited for her to serve me.

       “How was your evening last night, honey?”

       “Delicious.” I said.

       “Oh, did you and Matt go out to eat somewhere?”

       “Nope.”

       I smirked at her confused face as I leaned back in the chair.  She fed me pancakes and then I went back to my room and practiced tying knots, playing how the day would go in my mind, the things I would do to him…I had so many ideas.

       The doorbell rang around one.  I raced downstairs, but Dad was faster.

       “Oh, hello.  I’m Mr. Tiller.” I heard him say.

       “Hi, Mr. Tiller.  I’m Matt.”

       A pause.

       “The boy who’s screwing my daughter?”

       I raced into the living room.

       “Yes, sir.” Matt replied, before I could do a thing about it.  I saw his humongous grin past my dad’s shoulders as I entered.

       “Listen, son…I think you and I should have a conversation.”

       “Sure.”

       Dad moved aside to let Matt in.  He looked around for a moment and smiled when his eyes fell on me.

       “Hey, puppy.” I said, and his smile turned into a smirk.

       “Nicky,” Dad said, choosing to completely ignore what I’d just said, as he ignored practically everything that I did, “Matt and I are going to have a chat.”

       “Okay.  Don’t keep him too long.” I said, and Matt grinned.

       Of course I eavesdropped as Dad took Matt into the family room, which had no door on the outside, and Mom had no clue what was going on.

       “Now I know Nicky’s a very cute girl…”

       “She’s damn hot.” Matt interrupted, and I grinned at his brazenness.  My dad faltered.

       “Yes, well, she is a catch.”

       I rolled my eyes.

       “But the two of you haven’t known each other for very long, and Nicky’s never had a real boyfriend, just a lot of boys that come and go.  I’m just worried that this thing is moving too fast, and I was wondering if you could slow it down a little…”
       “Sorry.  Nope.” was Matt’s answer, and I had to force myself not to giggle.

       “Listen here, young man.” Dad said, trying to gain authority over Matt.  But he could have none; Matt was mine.  “I’m not going to stand by and let you use my daughter for your own pleasure.  She deserves a fine young man who will look out for her and take care of her.”

       “Can’t I do both?” Matt said, and I could practically see my dad fuming, and I wondered how long I should let this go on before I rescued my puppy.

       “No!  Aren’t you listening to what I’m saying?  I don’t want you having sex with my daughter!”

       I could practically hear Matt’s giant grin.

       “But she wants it.” he said, and Dad let out a strangled grunting noise of frustration, and I appeared in the doorway.

       “Come on, we’re leaving.” I said, and Matt turned to follow me out.

       “I’m not done talking to him!”

       “Yes you are.” I said, and Matt followed me towards the front door.

       “Come back here!  Nicky!”  I stepped outside with my backpack slung over my shoulder.  Matt followed me as we walked to his car.

       “Nicole Tiller, you come back here at once!” Dad shouted from the door of the house, though he wouldn’t come outside because he was only wearing socks.

       “I’ll see you tomorrow, Dad!” I shouted as I got in, and Matt winked at him as Dad’s jaw dropped when I said tomorrow.

       Matt got in and made a show of speeding off, and I laughed with glee as we hit the highway.  We both laughed for a good minute, at least.        

       “Can you believe how terrified he is of a little vanilla sex?” I said.

       “Oh, if he only knew…” Matt added, tears in his eyes from laughing.  I wondered what would happen if Dad saw what we really did.  He’d probably pass out.

       Then Matt turned to me with a huge, sly grin.

       “You’ll see him tomorrow, huh?”

       “Oh, yeah.  Since your parents are gone for the weekend, I’ll be spending the night.” I said, and he moaned and shuddered as his eyes rolled back in his head.

       “Puppy, eyes on the road.” I commanded, and he struggled and managed to obey my command, but I could see how hard he was already.

       “Mmmm….” I said, resisting the desire to stroke his dick, since he was driving.  “The things I am going to do to you today…”

       He drove faster.  I laughed.

       

       When we pulled up to the house, I saw his father’s car was gone.

       “Let’ s go in the front door.  Show me your house.” I said.

       “Yes, Nicole.”

       We got out and I walked up the three fancy steps of the rounded front stoop and waited while he unlocked the door.  We stepped into a huge, ornate living room with old-fashioned European furniture and glass end tables, covered in expensive looking knick-knacks.  There was a huge flat screen TV hung on the wall with slatted doors set into the wall beside it, probably to house things like blu-ray players and surround sound. 

       “This is the kitchen.” he said, which was huge.  It had black marble counters and two ovens set into the wall, and one of those islands in the middle. 

       “Wow.” I said.  I compared it to the old, sixties-style formica countertops in my kitchen and shook my head in amazement. 

       He led me through his father’s office, which had all kinds of computer devices, scanners, copiers, fax machines.  He led me through the master bedroom, which dwarfed the king-size bed that sat on a platform by the far wall.  He led me through a very ornate bathroom, complete with jacuzzi and two separate toilets, and another, separate room with two sinks and a counter.

       Then he passed by a few empty guest rooms.

       “This was my room when I was a kid.” he said, but it looked like nothing now.  “And this is the room where I lost my virginity.” he said, continuing to walk on as if this was as boring a statement as “this is the kitchen.”

       “Stop.” I said.  He stopped.

       “Tell me who it was.”

       He didn’t move.  He didn’t turn around; he continued to face away from me.

       “Her name was Sara.  She was my baby-sitter.”  His voice was soft and I could not tell whether he was upset.

       I nodded, though he couldn’t see.  I would get more information later.

       “Continue with the tour.” I said, and he did.

       “And this is the door that leads to the basement, where I live.” he said, opening it, and there were the stairs I’d looked up in passing, leading to the familiar den.  He led me down them, and I shut the door softly behind us.

       “Now we will start.” I said, and he was helpless to keep that delicious smirk off his face as he stood in the middle of his den.

       “Remove your shirt.” I demanded, and he pulled it off in one stroke, letting it fall to the floor, his delicious arms and chest and back muscles showing just the right amount of definition for my tastes.

       I circled him, inspecting him, letting my eyes roam up and down him, my hands behind my back.

       I walked up behind him and leaned over his shoulder, tipping my lips up to his ear.

       “I am going to subject you to all kinds of treatment, use you for my pleasure, laugh at you, hurt you, bite you, make you beg, and you will be able to do nothing about it.” I whispered, and his ears and cheeks flushed red.  His breathing became heavy and his nostrils flared.

       “You can make it easier or harder on yourself, whichever you wish, by obeying or not, whichever you prefer, but nothing you do will affect the outcome of tonight.  You have no control over that.  You will be tied up, you will be hurt.”

       He whimpered with pleasure, his smirk growing huge and delicious.

       “You will be completely honest with me, you will give me everything I want and tell me everything I want to know.”

       “Yes, Nicole.” he whispered, his voice shaky.

       “I will be staying the night, no matter what you say, no matter what you do, you will not be able to get rid of me; I will not leave you, not even if you use your safe word.” I said, and he whimpered again and his bottom lip quivered. 

       “Do you know what your safe word is?”

       “Yes, it’s ‘Nicky’”.

       “That word only ends the game, puppy, it doesn’t end that I love you and I will not leave you.”

       His face contorted in a strange way, almost as if he could not understand.  Fine.  I would make him understand.  I pulled back and stood in front of him.

       “First, I will teach you how to properly clean a bathroom.” I said, opening my backpack and pulling out all of the cleaning supplies.  Some of the rope hung out and I let him see it, let him know what he would get if he was good.  I then pulled out the apron.  It was pale pink with frills around the edges, one big pocket in the front and two frilly ties that went up behind the neck.

       “Strip.” I ordered, and he undid the zipper on his jeans, pulling them down along with his boxers, and also his socks, so he stood completely naked, his dick already pretty hard. 

       “This is to protect your precious skin from harsh chemicals.” I said, reaching up to tie the apron around his neck, then walking around him to make a big, cutesy bow in back.  His hard dick made a nice protrusion in the front of it, but he was still covered.  He was blushing profusely, his breathing thick and heavy, his ears burning red, and his smirk betraying how much he liked this even though he was trying not to show it. 

       I led him to the bathroom.

       “See this grime in the corner?  That’s disgusting.” I said.  I pulled an old used toothbrush out of my bag.  “You use this to scrub it out.  It works on the corners in the shower, too.”

       I then lifted the toilet seat, which was covered in grossness.

       “Does that look clean to you?”

       “No, Nicole.”

       I smacked him across the cheek, just to see what would happen.  His eyes grew wide and his breathing heavy, as his dick grew harder, and his smirk grew wider.

       “Then why did you leave it like that?  Did you think I wanted to wash in such a disgusting place?”

       “No, Nicole.”

       I smacked him again, and it felt damn good, and I didn’t know why.  Probably it was the power, but it was also that thing that had made me want to bite my bunny when I was little.  Matt was hot, he was sexy, I wanted him, he was delicious, so he should be eaten.

       “The floor looks like you just vacuumed it.  The mirror looks like it wasn’t cleaned at all.”

       “It wasn’t.”

       I smacked him again, his cheek turning pink now.

       “I don’t think you understand the importance of cleanliness enough.  Get on your hands and knees, take a better look at your gross floor.”

       He obeyed without hesitation, and I really started to get hot.  His cock and balls hung down, along with the front of his apron, his delicious ass exposed for me to smack.  I hit it hard enough to sting, though not with all my strength, and the pleasure that surged through me was ridiculous.  He was so hot, he was so mine, he was so going to hurt.

       I smacked his ass over and over, until it started to turn bright pink, and then I reached under suddenly and grabbed his balls, just a little too hard.  He yelped and froze.

       “This is just a warning of what will happen if you don’t get it clean this second time.” I said, and I squeezed them a little harder, and he whimpered, even as I felt the blood rush past my fingers and into his dick.  “Do you understand?” I demanded.

       “Yes, Nicole.” he squeaked, and I gave his ass one last hard smack, and then released his balls.

       “You may begin cleaning, now.” I said, and he stood up as I placed all the different bottles and a roll of paper towels and a sponge on the counter.  He got to work, starting with the mirror, then cleaning out all the corners that I’d demanded, and I watched his body bend and shift in a million sexy ways as he worked.  It was nearly impossible not to reach out and touch him, stroke him, pinch him, squeeze him, but I knew there would be plenty of time for that.  We had all day.

       The most delicious part was when he bent down to clean the floor behind the toilet, his ass in the air, his balls dangling down, begging me to touch them.  But I resisted somehow, and let him work, until the bathroom was truly spotless.

       He stood up, his hands and arms now covered in soap and water, his apron splashed and wet.

       “Are you finished?” I asked.

       “Yes, Nicole.”

       “Then I will inspect.  For each thing I don’t like, you will get one smack.” I said, and his smirk was so damn sexy it made me want to do nothing but spank him all night.

       I was as nit-picky as hell and though he had done an amazing job, I still managed to find fourteen spots that were still a little grimy, mostly corners of mildew that were probably impossible to remove in the shower.

       “That was pretty good.” I said.  “Now close your eyes to receive your punishment.”

       He unquestionably obeyed.  I removed the apron and smacked his chest across his left nipple, his stomach, his back, his ass, his thighs, each time coming down in a new spot because I knew he liked surprises.  His dick only grew harder and it took all of my willpower not to grab it and squeeze it.  But I had other plans for it.

       “Have you learned your lesson?” I asked.

       “Yes, Nicole.”

       “Good, now take a shower, you reek.” I said, and I sat down on the now sparkling clean toilet seat.  I watched him as he stepped into the shower, as he turned on the water to hot.

       “You don’t deserve hot water.  Put it on cold.” I said, and his hand shook as he turned the dial and he cried out as the freezing water hit his skin, and he started to shiver.

       “Clean yourself very well; I don’t want to smell anything when you’re done.”

       “Y..y..es, Ni…cole….” he chattered, and wetness oozed between my legs as I watched him suffer, his dick now tiny and shrunken, his skin covered in goose bumps as he struggled to wash.  He finished and reached for the dial.

       “I will tell you when you are done.” I said.  “Keep going.”

       He started to wash parts of himself he’d already cleaned, his hair matted around his head.

       “Okay, that’s enough.” I said, and he hurriedly shut the water off.

       “Stand on the bath mat.” I ordered, and his shivering body shook as he stood there, dripping wet and naked.

       “Wasn’t it nicer to use a clean shower?” I asked.

       “I…don’t…know…”

       Smack, across his left nipple.

       “Yes, Ni..cole.” he replied, his head lowered, his soaking wet hair causing little rivulets of water to run down him still, and even in his condition I saw his dick trying to grow.

       “Are you suffering?” I asked.

       “Yes, Ni…cole.”

       “Do you deserve it?”

       “Yes, Nic..ole.”

       “Why?”

       “Because I didn’t…clean…the bathroom good…enough…please let…me…dry off.”

       “I hardly think you deserve that.” I said as he shivered.  The bathroom air wasn’t particularly warm, either, which meant he would still be cold, even once he was dry.  I noticed that his nipples were hard as rocks and decided to use that to my advantage.

       “Close your eyes, and do not move.” I said, and I opened my backpack and pulled out the bag of clothespins.  I also took out the leather collar that I’d found at the goth store in the mall.  It had spikes around it, which I thought were hot, but it had no place to attach a leash.  So I’d punched a hole in it with a pair of scissors and then clipped a regular dog leash onto it.  For something improvised, it wasn’t half-bad.  I walked over to his shivering body.

       “I suppose you could wear something.” I said, and I brought the collar up to his neck and even as I fastened it tightly, his breathing became quicker and harder. When I clipped the leash through the hole he whimpered, his voice shaking with pleasure as his dick started to fill again with blood.  I gave the leash a good tug, forcing his head sideways a few inches, but other than that he made no effort to move.

       I stepped back, the leash in my hand, to stare.  It was a damn sexy sight, perhaps the hottest thing I’d ever seen in my life, the collar around his neck attached to the black leash in my hand, his naked body shivering, helpless.  I then opened the clothespins and clamped them down on his hard nipples at the same time and he screamed.

       “Oh, yeah, you have been a bad boy, you’re not getting off easy.” I said, and he whimpered and panted and his fingers twitched but he did not move otherwise.  His dick grew with each pulse of his heart and I watched it rise, a delicious smirk on my face.

       I pulled out some string and tied it around the end of one clothespin, then around the end of the other, connecting the two of them.

       “Sit on the toilet.” I said, and he ungraciously felt around with his hands for it, and I sighed.

       “You can open your eyes, puppy.” I said, and he did, and he sat on the cold ceramic toilet lid.

       “Hunch.” I directed, and when he did I tied a knot of more string around the line that connected his two nipple pins, and then ran it down to his dick where I wrapped it around the end a few times, fairly tightly, as he grew impossibly hard and his breath grew shaky with desire.

       “Stand up straight.” I said, and when he did the strings pulled taught, his dick pulling up while the pins on his nipples pulled down.  He grunted loudly through gritted teeth, as I saw the pins pull, as I saw the string dig in around his tip.

       I then walked, yanking him by his collar, and he whimpered and took a few stumbling steps forward as he tried not to stretch the string, which was impossible.  I led him to the bedroom, pulling roughly on his collar.

       “Lie down.” I ordered, and he lay on his side, curled up so the string wouldn’t pull.

       “Oh, no, no.” I said, and I tied a rope around his right wrist and pulled it up over his head, securing it to the pipe behind the soundproofing.  I then did the other wrist, though he kept his back hunched, his stomach crunched as he tried to keep the string from pulling.

       “No, puppy.  You must hurt.” I said, and I tied rope around both of his ankles and then pulled on his right one, and he fought me, and he was strong.  But his one leg wasn’t as strong as my two arms and I got it to stretch straight as he screamed through both teeth, the string squeezing his dick while it pulled on the pins on his nipples.  I secured the other end of the rope to the frame under the bed, and then I pulled on his forth leg, completely stretching him out, and it became too much and the string pulled the clothespins off of his nipples with a snap.

       Matt screamed loudly for a few seconds and then he panted heavily, his dick swelling, the string binding it at the end, which made me smirk as I would play so much more with that later.

       But for now I had other plans.  I took a pair of scissors out of my backpack.  They were brand new, steel and shiny and had very sharp tips.  I lightly dragged the tip across his stomach as he whimpered, tears leaking from his eyes, his stomach panting heavily as he lay, tied spread-eagle on the bed.  I traced the scissors carefully, not wanting to cut him, at least not yet.  I stroked the back of the scissors up his dick and a squeal escaped his throat, and then I slipped it under the string and cut him free.

       His dick swelled, pulsing and purple, and his nipples were a bright red.  I smacked them both and he yelped.  I realized he hadn’t said a word in a long time; he was already so submissive to me that I wondered what would happen when I finally tied him the way he wanted me to.

       “This is my favorite way to see you, puppy.” I said.  “All splayed out and vulnerable.  I can do anything I want to you when you’re like this except spank your ass; but I already got that out of my system, for now.”

       I glanced up at his face and saw the lustful smirk there, and that along with his very hard dick let me know he was truly enjoying himself.

       “So far,” I said, “you’ve gotten to have all the fun.” 

       I took my clothes off slowly in front of him, his eyes tracing my body with want as I stretched my arms above my head to take off my shirt, and then twisted around to unclasp my bra.  When my breasts jiggled free I heard him moan, and I smirked at him as I turned around and slid my jeans off with my ass sticking out, round and plump, right in his view.  Once I was naked I turned back around to face him.  I crawled up onto the foot of the bed and ran my tongue once up his dick, making him squeal, and then I continued to slide my body up over his penis, letting it slide between my breasts, then across my chest, then my stomach, and when it got to my pelvis I lifted up too high so he couldn’t reach me.  He raised his hips off the bed to get closer to me, and I smacked his nipple.

       “Bad boyfriend.” I said, and he whimpered and let his ass sink back down to the bed.

       “That’s better.” I said.  “Now my pussy is soaking wet; watching you suffer has made it that way, and I want you to drink it all in.  Make me orgasm.” I said, and I lifted my hips up so that they hovered over his face, and I saw him open his mouth as I lowered down, smothering him under me.  I felt his tongue dart out and slide into my slit, and I cried out with pleasure as my ass crushed his face.  I reached down and grabbed the leash and gave it a playful yank, just to remind him that it was there.  He struggled against his bonds, his fingers clasping at the air, and I giggled, tracing a finger lightly down his forearm, making him shudder.

       His licking grew delicious and became all I could concentrate on, his tongue sliding over my clitoris, my cum pouring into his mouth, covering his face.  He kissed and sucked and nipped, and I moaned and yelped with pleasure, squeezing his head with my thighs.  The heat started to truly build and I felt it boil over the top as I twitched over him, and I grabbed his hair tightly, squeezing him hard with my thighs.

       “Oh, yes, puppy, yes.” I said.  “You’re such a good puppy, such a good boy.  Keep doing that, yes, oh, yes…” I said, and he did not let me down.

       My orgasm ended and I slid off of him, suddenly dying to have his dick inside of me.  I fumbled around in his nightstand for the condoms and pulled one out, realizing that we had enough for tonight but needed to get more.  I opened the pack quickly and rolled it over his hard dick.  I got up and positioned him, then sank down onto his penis, pushing him up into me.

       “Oh, yes!” I screamed, even as it hurt my soreness.  “Fuck me, bad boy, fuck me!” I said, smacking his stomach, and he rose his hips off the bed obediently, thrusting into me as I thrust back, riding him for all he was worth, smacking his stomach over and over.  It felt so delicious that I almost missed his cue whimper that he was about to cum, and I immediately pulled myself off of him, the pleasure of his suffering worth the price of my own.

       “No!” he said, “Come back, please…”

       I grabbed his balls.  He screamed and panted, his dick swollen and purple, the opening at the tip wide with desire.

       “Did you think you were going to get pleasure?” I said.  “Your body is for my amusement; you don’t get to cum.” I said.  He whimpered and struggled against the restraints, pulling on the ropes on his wrists, and I suddenly had a very strong desire to whip him.  I sighed longingly because I had no object that could be used for that purpose, so instead I smacked him with my open palms some more, adding to it the insides of this thighs, which made him flinch the most.

       I was hot.  I was so very hot, my pulse pounding in my ears as I watched him struggle, trying to pull his wrists free, and I wanted to see him struggle some more.

       “I want to whip you, so bad…” I said, my voice shaking, and I realized I was sweating.  Matt flexed every muscle he had and groaned with pleasure.

       “Oh, yeah, oh, do it mmmmm…”
       “I don’t have anything to use.” I said, distraught, and his lips curved up in the biggest lustful smirk I’d seen on him.

       “I’ve got belts in the closet.”

       I practically fell over my own feet as the idea of that made me impossibly hot.  I yanked open his closet door and objects fell out, something landing on my bare foot, hurting my toe.  I yelped.

       “Oh, you are going to pay for that, boy.” I said, and he whimpered with excitement.  I looked on the bar stuffed full of clothes to the point that they didn’t need the hangars to stay up, they were packed so tightly.  “You’re a messy little boy, aren’t you?” I said as I saw the belts hanging from the door.  I chose the lightest, thinnest one so it wouldn’t wear me out as quickly and turned back to him, both of us practically drooling.  Matt’s penis was impossibly hard, his eyes were half closed and he gazed at me as if he was high on something.

       “Whip me, make me pay, Nicole, punish me like I deserve…”
       I clasped the buckle firmly in my hand and swung the leather through the air, a delicious smack coming to my ears as it hit his stomach, and Matt winced, then moaned.

       “Do it again…” he said, and I did, the leather whooshing through the air before it smacked across his chest, and he raised his back up off the bed, arching it in pleasure.

       “More, Nicole, more!  Punish me, hurt me, whip me!” he begged, and I did, lashing at his chest and stomach over and over, the sight of him pulling against his bonds and his hard penis pulsing making me dizzy with pleasure so that I could barley stand on my feet.  His screams of

       “Yes, yes, yes!  More, more!” were so intoxicating that I spent minutes forgetting to breathe, and then gasping for air.  His skin started to turn bright pink, and then some of the lines started to turn red, and the more I hurt him the more he screamed for me to continue.  Tears rolled down his cheeks as he arched his back in ecstatic pleasure, and then a different kind of strangled cry escaped his lips and he orgasmed, the first two pulses of clearish white liquid squirting across his chest before I was able to react and suck his penis into my mouth.  He gasped and shook as I felt his dick twitch in my mouth, his chest heaving as he tried to draw enough breath, and then a deep, low moan escaped his lips, and his entire body relaxed.  I let his softening penis slide out of my mouth and stood up, his body still twitching, his head lolled to the side, his cheeks flushed a brilliant pink and his eyes half closed.

       “Wow, puppy.” I said, smiling flirtatiously at him.  He gave me a sexy, deeply satisfied smile and then closed his eyes, and in seconds he was asleep.

       I didn’t want to touch him; I didn’t want to wake him, so I sat quietly in his desk chair and waited while cum started to drip down the sides of his chest.  I wanted to let him rest; it was going to be a very long night; we hadn’t even really started yet.  I spent my time thinking about more ways to pleasure us, sexy ways to hurt him, which he clearly enjoyed as much as I did.  Maybe even more.

       Then I remembered how much he liked surprises, and I wondered if it was too early.  How long would it be until he was able to get hard again?  I tried to remember back to the first day we’d had sex; how long it had been between that and him jerking off while I watched.  Probably about twenty or thirty minutes.  So I waited that long, and he slept, an adorable, satisfied smile on his face.  He looked so peaceful I almost didn’t want to do it; but I knew that he didn’t want this to end so soon, either.

       So I took two clothespins and clipped them on his nipples.  His eyes flew open and he screamed, completely unprepared for it.  He panted and writhed against his bonds, struggling with all of his strength to get free, and it was the most delicious thing I’d ever seen.

       “Good morning, puppy.” I said, and I watched with satisfaction as his dick was already starting to grow.  “Sleep well?”

       He gasped for air, panting heavily on the bed, his eyes tracing wild patterns on the ceiling as he attempted to think through the intense emotions. 

       “Punish me, punish me for going off early…” he said, and I almost orgasmed from the deliciousness of such a request, coming from such a sight, in his lusciously sexy voice.

       I knew what I would do.  I smirked at him as I released the ropes on his ankles, and then the ropes on his wrists, and he was untied and free.  I reached over quickly and grabbed his leash, yanking on it roughly and he let out a choked startle.

       “Get up, boy.” I said, and before I gave him a chance I yanked on the collar again, choking him as he struggled to his feet.  I walked out into the den, yanking on his leash, growing wet and hot as I felt the resistance of his throat trying to bring him air.  I  paused in the den and tied him to the banister.

       “Stay right there.” I said, and I went back into his room and got myself dressed, not bothering with undergarments but I was still clothed when I untied him and started to yank him up the staircase.

       “Where are we go…”
       I smacked him across the face.

       “Shut up.” I said, and he whimpered and then gagged as I yanked on his collar, “Or I will buy you a choke chain, the kind they use on bad puppies.”

       He moaned and shook and I thought he was going to go off again, right there.  I paused and turned around.

       “You will be so, so sorry if you cum and make a mess upstairs.” I threatened, pushing open the door that led to the upstairs hallway, the sunlight pouring in.  I dragged him across the living room and into the kitchen. 

       “Hold out your left hand.” I said.  He obeyed, and I placed the end of his own leash in it.  “Put a pot of water on to boil.” I said, and his eyes grew wide and his nostrils flared and it seemed he had finally gotten his smirk under control for a moment when it sprang to his lips as he panted with want.

       “Yes, Nicole.” he squeaked, and he walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a pot, filling it at the sink, the clothespins on his nipples jiggling as he moved.  I studied his chest in the sunlight; it had a criss-cross pattern of pink and red lines, his skin was raw, but that looked like it would all fade in a few hours.  He put the pot on the stove and turned it on, then came back to me, and I twitched with want and desire.

       “Stay.” I ordered, and he did, and I walked down the hall, avoiding the living room with its huge bay windows, and selected a pillow from the guest bed in the room he told me used to be his when he was a child.  I walked back to the kitchen, passed him and went to a large open area of floor space next to the dining table and tossed the pillow onto the floor.

       “Heel.” I ordered, snapping my fingers to my side as if I was calling a dog, and he came silently.

       “Lay, face up.” I demanded, pointing, and he did, resting his precious head on the pillow.  He gasped at the coldness of the floor and I saw his penis shrink a little from the chill.  I teased it, running my finger up the side of it, and he gasped again and I laughed.

       “Such a fickle thing; wants to be fucked one minute, tries to shrink from the cold the next.” I said.  I turned around, putting my knees on the pillow, on either side of his head.  I removed the pins from his nipples, and he gasped.

       “Pleasure me while the water boils.” I said, lowering my crotch so it hovered over him, and he did, lapping at my pussy, beginning by licking the outside and then starting to stroke my slit, teasing my clit, making me moan and causing cum to flow freely onto his face as I crushed his head into the pillow.  I watched his penis throb and grow again and then sight left me as my eyes rolled back in my head.

       “Yes, puppy, lick me more, make me cum, pleasure me, give me what you can’t have.” I said, and he whimpered and continued, his penis becoming rock-hard again.  I decided to make his misery worse and replaced the pins on his nipples and then twisted them, and he cried out, the yell vibrating into my crotch with deliciousness.

       “Keep going.  You didn’t do anything wrong; I’m hurting you for no reason, because I want to, because watching you suffer is hot.” I said, and his penis pulsed purple and I desperately wanted to bite it, but knew that would make him go off.   I would have to wait for that.  I twisted his nipples harder, and he screamed into my crotch again.

       His licking became rhythmic and the heat became impossibly tense, and then I started to twitch and orgasm and I screamed and squeezed his head with my thighs, twisting his nipples, making him scream as well.

       “Oh, yes!  Yes, puppy, you make me feel so good!  I’m cumming, and you are not,  I’m feeling pleasure and you aren’t!  Mmmmm!” I said, and even in such a moment where my mind was mostly gone, I could still feel the corner of his mouth turn up with his lustful smile.

       My orgasm ended and I felt absolutely and totally empty inside.  I removed his clothespins and got off of his face, now covered in my cum.

       “Get up.” I told him, and he obeyed, though he looked confused when I took his place on the floor.

       “Get on your knees.  Fuck me with your fingers, as hard and fast as you can.” I said.  His hand was between my legs immediately and then he slid two fingers inside of me, his shoulder muscles flexing as he shoved them in hard, and I cried out with pleasure.

       “More!” I screamed, and he pumped hard and fast, the rest of his hand smashing into my pussy as he pushed as hard as he could.  He wasn’t able to go as deep as his penis, but he was able to move much faster, and it felt amazing in a whole new way.

       “Yes, yes!  Faster puppy, faster!” I screamed, and he did, the speed causing impossible pleasure to shoot through my body, and I could have taken pleasure like that all day but after a few minutes he collapsed on top of me, panting, sweating.  I slapped his back.

       “I didn’t tell you to stop.” I said, and he whimpered and tried to go again, but I knocked his hand away.

       “You’re useless this tired, forget it.” I said.  I heard the water boiling and I smirked.

       “Well, we’re ready.  Go lay on the floor of the jacuzzi, and close your eyes.” I said, and he nodded, gritting his teeth as he went.  I rose to my feet and picked up the pillow, replacing it back on the bed I’d taken it from.  I then went back to the kitchen and picked up the pot of boiling water, my heart pounding with excitement as I walked it down the hall to the master bathroom, where I found him lying flat on his back in the jacuzzi, eyes closed as I’d commanded. 

       “You may scream, but you may not move.” I demanded, and his breathing increased tenfold as I tipped the pot of boiling water onto his sensitive, stinging chest. 

       His scream was loud and deafening as it echoed off the walls of the bathroom.  His eyes flew open and then squeezed shut.  His fingers clasped the bottom of the tub as if he was trying to dig into it with his nails, and his entire body shook uncontrollably, but somehow, he didn’t actually move.  I poured the water slowly, making the pain last, tears pouring down his eyes as he screamed, took a breath, and then screamed again, and I felt a gallon of cum pour out of me, even as I watched his lips to see if he attempted to utter his safe word, which he did not.

       The pot ran out and Matt screamed for a minute or so after that, and then the screams became whimpers, and eventually, just heavy panting.

       “That is your punishment for cumming too early.” I said.  “I’d love to do it again, why don’t you ask me if you can cum again?” I said, but he remained silent, only panting, and I continued to let him rest for a moment.

       Then I reached down into the tub and pulled up the now-wet leash, and yanked on it as he scrambled to his feet.  He stepped clumsily over the edge of the jacuzzi and I placed the pot in his hands.

       “Wash this, put it back so no one knows what happened, and come back down to the bedroom.” I said, and as he turned to leave, I smacked his ass.

       I couldn’t keep the grin of pleasure from my face.  I couldn’t believe the level to which Matt wanted to be taken; I couldn’t believe the level to which I wanted to take him.  Throughout all of it I knew he loved it, his hard dick and delicious smirk giving him away at every turn.  I waited in our bedroom as I pulled the rope out of my backpack, deciding it was time.  He certainly had earned it. 

       I dug through the bags of clothes that he’d bought me and selected what I thought was the sexiest set of lingerie.  The bra was black and lacey and had two half-cups supported by wires that pushed my breasts up very suggestively, making my cleavage very pronounced.  It had little vertical slits in it drawn together by little x’s of string on either side of both nipples, and the tight black panties had slits to match that ran up either side of the crotch, revealing my flesh through them, but nothing other than plain skin.

       When Matt came back down and saw me he grinned, but then his eyes fell on the rope and they rolled back in his head as he moaned. 

       “Please…” he said.

       “Yes, puppy.” I replied.  “You will get your reward now.” 

       The corner of his mouth pulled up into such a sexy grin that I almost stopped what I was doing to throw him onto the bed and fuck him.

       “We will begin with the picture exactly.” I said.  “Put on your boxers and jeans.”

       He searched for them on the floor and obeyed my command.

       “Turn your back to me.  Put your wrists together behind you.”

       He did, shaking with anticipation, but the first thing I did was reach up and unclasp the collar.  He whimpered as if I’d hurt him.

       I stood behind him and stretched up on my tiptoes to lean over his shoulder, letting my lace-covered breasts slide up his back as I reached my lips towards his ear.

       “Do you like your collar?” I whispered, and I saw his penis pulse and his smirk twitch.  “Don’t worry; it will be back.” I said.  I pulled away from him and set the collar down.  I then grabbed the rope and started to wrap it around his wrists, very tightly, wrapping it around over and over, each layer going higher up  his arms, pulling his shoulders wider as I wrapped it more than halfway to his elbows before I tied it off tightly.

       Matt’s breathing, instead of racing, became very slow and rhythmic.  His entire body actually seemed to relax, and his head fell forward as he looked at the floor, his face appearing tranquil; almost entranced.  His smirk was completely gone.

       “On your knees.” I said, and he obeyed me instantly and silently, his breathing still slow and steady, as if he was asleep. 

       Curious, I stood behind him, the back of his head pressed against my crotch, and slid my palms down his chest and rubbed his now extremely sensitive nipples.  I felt his heart beat faster through his chest, and his breathing increased, but only a little.  Otherwise, he did not react.  He remained absolutely still and silent.  I pinched both nipples, hard, and he did not react at all; he didn’t flinch, he didn’t scream, he didn’t moan.  His heart rate increased and I saw the bulge grow in his jeans, but that was it.  His smirk was still gone.

       I stood back and walked around to the front of him, his head lowered, his hair hanging in front of his face.  I stared at him in wonder at his calmness.

       “Are you there, puppy?” I asked.

       “Yes.” he replied, his voice soft but strong.

       “What are you feeling?”

       “Yours.” was his answer, soft but strong as he looked down at my feet.  The word sent shudders of pleasure through me.  He was feeling mine.

       “To do with as I please?”

       “Yes.”

       “Your are mine to hurt?”

       “Yes.” he said, his voice steady and even, though I knew he loved to hear me say it.

       “You are mine to torture?”

       “Yes.”

       “To abuse?”

       “Yes.”

       “To cut?”

       “Yes.”

       “To burn?”

       “Yes.”

       The conversation, if it could be called that, was making both of us extremely hot.  I could see Matt’s penis struggling against the jeans that did not leave enough space for it, and my new lingerie was soaked through to the outside.

       “Will you tell me about Sara?” I asked.

       “Yes.” he replied, not a hint of shakiness or hesitation in his voice at all.

       My heart started to pound as I began to realize that this was no game.  There was no pretend involved now.  He was completely submissive to me. 

       “Is it Sara who took your virginity?”

       “Yes.”

       “Did she take it, or did you give it to her?”

       “I gave it to her.”

       “How old were you?”

       “Eleven.”

       I was amazed at how absolutely still he remained, not stirring or shifting even though his shoulders and knees must have been uncomfortable.

       My heart pounded at his answer.  Eleven.  That was so young!  I stared at him in disbelief as I realized he had been sexually active then for six years…which certainly explained a lot.

       “Did she teach you all of the things you do with me?” I asked, my voice shaky.

       “Some of it.” he answered, and I simultaneously felt jealousy and also pride, because that meant some of what we did was new to him. 

       “Which things?”

       That was the first time that he paused, as he had to think through a lot of memories to formulate his answer.

       “She taught me how to kiss, how to suck tits, how to lick a pussy, how to fuck…”

       I held my breath.  All vanilla things.

       “How many times did you have sex with her?”

       He paused again.

       “Around twenty, I guess.”

       My breath caught in my throat.

       “Who started it?  Who went after who first?”

       “I did.” he said, and my heart ran wild, because I knew what he meant.  We were the same; I had also wanted sex since I was very young, I would say five, but I had never had the opportunity he had.  I had never had a male babysitter;  I wondered now what would have happened if I had.

       “Tell me about her.” I said, and I thought I saw him squeeze his eyes shut in pain, but I couldn’t be sure.  If he was hurting, he didn’t show it in his voice.

       “She would come to watch me every weeknight, after school until my dad got home at midnight.” he said.  “At first she was normal.  She helped me do my homework, fed me dinner, let me stay up late to watch TV.  But she was blonde, hot, had big bouncy tits and juicy, curvy hips…”
       I’d had enough of hearing about her physical description.

       “How old was she?”

       “Twenty-two.” he said, and my mouth fell open.  Not some teenager apart from him by a few years, but as he had told me a few days ago, she was an actual woman.

       “I always begged her to watch scary movies, so I could pretend to be afraid and curl up in her lap, in her arms, and they felt so good…she would stroke my hair, stroke my ears, my neck…her breasts pressed against my back…one night I reached up to stroke her hair, and she froze and I asked what was the matter…she looked down and saw I was hard, saw her arms around me, her hand stroking my hair, like she just realized that moment what she was doing, and I pulled my hand away and asked her what I did wrong.”

       His smirk threatened to break through his passiveness, but I could see him fighting it.  He shifted his arms, making himself feel the rope, and his composure returned.

       “She said ‘Matt, how do you feel about me?’” and I said “I better not tell you; you look freaked out and then you’ll leave me.”

       His smirk pulled up at the corner of his lips again, and then he fought it back down.

       “She said that was probably wise, and she looked back at the TV…except that I could feel her heart start to race in her chest, and I decided to risk it all and stroke her hair again.  And she let me.” he said.

       “I did that for weeks.  I tried crawling into her lap during any movie or any TV show, and she let me.  She pet me, she let me pet her.  I let my fingers dance all over her ears, her neck, across her collarbone, any part of her skin that I saw.  Her heartbeat gave her away, I could feel her get hot.  One day I had her worked up so much her eyes were half closed, and I said,

       “Sara, when are you going to kiss me?”

       I couldn’t help it; his story turned me on, the wetness pouring from between my legs, my lips parted as I breathed through my mouth.

       “She turned and looked at me with this strange expression, like she was trying really hard not to like what I said, and failing.  I stroked her face.  I got up on my knees and straddled her, letting her feel how I was hard, pushing my chest against hers, our faces so close, my fingers through her hair…I said ‘Sara, if you’re too afraid to kiss me, then let me kiss you.’”

       We stared in each other’s eyes.  I moved closer and she didn’t pull away.  I’d never kissed a girl before; my heart raced like crazy and then I touched her lips with mine, and she cracked, and she kissed me back, and it was so, so good…”

       His head somehow fell lower, as if he were more relaxed, which I thought was odd since I was more worked up.  I realized he was an amazing storyteller and I laughed at myself; of course a poet would be.

       “Over and over, the kiss didn’t stop, all night we kissed, she wrapped her arms around me, she pulled me to her, I pulled her to me, and now I look back and it was so innocent, there wasn’t a drop of tongue, but it was so good, so so good…”

       He sighed with wistful longing, and for a moment I was jealous.  This Sara had gotten to him first; she had a claim on him that wasn’t mine.

       “After that, I kissed her every night.  She would never start it.  She never started anything.  She always made me make the first move; I guess to see what I would do.  I don’t know.  But one night I grabbed her tit and she liked it.  A lot.  And after a week of letting me play with them, I asked her if I could see them.  And we left the couch, and we went to my room.  I never saw tits before, so back then I thought hers were the most amazing ever…”

       “Have you changed your mind?”

       His smirk grew.

       “Yours are so much bouncier, plus they’re attached to you.” he said, and I grew hotter.  Matt still hadn’t moved; he still stood there, on his knees, facing me, his head tilted toward the floor so I couldn’t really see his face.  But he seemed a little more like himself; or so I thought.

       “…Sara always did everything I asked, and she never asked anything of me.  It drove me crazy.  It drove me insane.  I was attracted to an older woman because I wanted her to dominate me; she was supposed to have authority over me, and instead she was the passive one.  She would just lay on my bed and let me feel her, anywhere I wanted, but she never reached back for me.  She never touched me.  I never understood her, not even now.  I understand myself more than I understand her; and that’s not saying much.” 

       I laughed a little, because it seemed impossible to me for anyone to understand either of us.

       “When I asked her if I could have sex with her, she said the same thing she always said.  ‘Sure’.  That was it.  Same answer I would’ve gotten if I asked her for a burger for dinner.  She let me.  She showed me what to do, and then she just lay there and let me do it, oh, it was so cold, now that I look back, and I know the heat that there should be…”

       I shivered with pleasantness.  I lost whatever jealousy of Sara I had; Matt was making it very clear, almost by accident, that I was a thousand times more to him than she was.

       “So we did that, or I guess I should say I did that, for a couple of weeks.  It felt great; it felt amazing…but it almost felt good the way masturbating feels good.  You feel empty after.  You feel alone.  And you’re more thirsty for the real thing, later on.”

       I stared at him in amazement.  The story that poured from him seemed almost impossible, and I probably wouldn’t have believed it except that he told it while he was tied up and helpless on the floor.

       “So I asked her for one last thing.” Matt said, softly now, clearly very sad.  “I asked her if she would switch.  If I could lay on the bed, and she could do things to me.  She told me that was backwards, that the man is supposed to be on top.  I said, ‘I’m not a man, I’m eleven.’  And she sighed and said ‘I know; I think this has to end.’”

       Matt stopped speaking for a long moment, and I finally decided that he was done offering information and I would have to ask for the rest.

       “How did you handle it?” I asked.  He sighed heavily.

       “I didn’t.  I moped and sulked and lost all my friends and stopped talking to people.  Then a couple of months later my dad married my bitch of a stepmother, and she moved in, and I really wanted to kill myself.  I had nothing to live for.  But my dad…well, he noticed I was miserable, I guess I gotta give him credit for that, so he tried to cheer me up like he always does, by buying me stuff.  Except this time, he got it right.  For Christmas he got me a guitar.  And I finally had a way to get all that shit out of me, and that’s what started me being an artist.”

       He stopped talking, and I stared at him for a moment, letting all that he told me sink in.  I wanted to kiss him; I wanted to hold him; I wanted to make love to him the way he wanted it, hard and painful and hot and passionate.  But I didn’t have all the information I needed yet. 

       “Tell me about Melanie.” I said, and I could see that he was starting to shake from having not moved for so long.  He did shift his wrists now, just a little.

       “I met her over the summer; a bunch of us were just hanging out and she was there.  She was different from the other girls; more tough, more bossy.  So I asked her out.  Practically fainted when she said yes.  She dragged me to a hundred places; diners, dances, shows, movies.  She made me buy her gifts, give her flowers, all that.  When we had sex it was like…weird.  She was just interested in my dick; not the rest of me; she was constantly inspecting it and analyzing it and I didn’t mind; it felt good when she played with it, but it was weird.  Then I found out she was just using me to try to figure out if she was gay.  Hell, I wouldn’t even have minded that, but did she have to cheat on me with Brenda Farwell?”

       He sighed, almost angrily.

       “Fucking girls; they use you in all the wrong ways…”

       I stepped forward and put the tip of my right pointer finger under his chin, raising it so that he looked up at me.

       “I know exactly how you want to be used.” I said, and his eyes went from watery to desirous almost instantly.  “You wanna lay on the bed and have things done to you, puppy?” I put my palms on either side of his face, squishing his cheeks.  “You want your sex to be hot, and passionate and burning?”

       He closed his eyes and moaned.  I started to trace my palms down his neck, across his bare shoulders, then down his raw chest and over his nipples, and he shuddered as I gave them a light, teasing pinch, causing him to grow very hard once again.  My lips were very close to his, but he did not move.  I continued sliding my hands down, until they reached the base of his penis, and then I grabbed it with my right one, stroking it very slowly,

       “Ohhhhh…” he said, struggling now to not move.

       “Do you want your dick to be played with, analyzed, tortured?” I said, and I squeezed it fairly roughly and instead of tensing with pain, he moaned deeply and collapsed into me, twitching as I let go.

       “Oh, Nicole, use me, hurt me, fuck me…” he said, and I turned my head so my lips were very close to his ear.

       “I will.” I said, and he shuddered and moaned, and my heart beat faster for him.
       “On the bed, puppy.” I said, and he rose to his feet only to lie on the bed, subject to me.  He lay on his right side, facing me, unable to lay on his back because his hands were in the way.  The way his chest and shoulders had to stretch because of those bonds was scrumptiously sexy and I didn’t want to mess with it. 

       “I’m trying to think of the best way to tie you down,” I said, and his nostrils flared with anticipation.  “Well, first things first.” I said, and I reached my hand to the button on his jeans and he moaned as I brushed his dick with my fingers as I pulled his pants down, and his penis stood tall as I tossed them on the floor and nodded with decision.  I grabbed the rope and wrapped it around his ankles in a similar fashion as his wrists.  I then got his collar and he lifted his head obediently for me as I snapped it on.  I then tied the leash around one of the pipes in the wall at the head of the bed, and my eyes closed halfway at the deliciousness of the sight.

       With each new way I bound him, Matt became more and more entranced, his eyes drooping, his breathing becoming more even.  I took another piece of rope and tied it to the one wrapped around his ankles, bent his knees backward and then tied the other end of hit to his wrists, leaving his dick totally exposed, hard and purple protruding from his body.  I then smirked.

       “I learned a few things about you yesterday.” I said, picking up the bandana that he’d blindfolded me with.  He started to pant and his smirk grew into a nearly full-blown smile when I covered his eyes, blinding him, helpless and exposed on the bed. 

       I suddenly had the urge to see him gagged as well.  I knew he would love it; but then I worried that if he changed his mind, he’d have no way of telling me. 

       “I want to gag you…”
       “Yes!” he squeaked, his voice cracking with desperation, as he struggled against his bonds, though he was barley able to move, and any shifting he managed to accomplish did nothing but pull on his collar.  It was too hot and I had no ability to resist him. 

       “Do you have more bandana…”
       “Desk, bottom left drawer.” he said.  I went and pulled it open and found a stash of clothespins, rope, string, bandanas, rubber bands and cigarette lighters.

       “Oh, puppy!” I said, pulling the bandana out.

       “Do you like my drawer?” he asked, a huge grin on his face, and I was having second thoughts because if I gagged him, I wouldn’t be able to see his impossibly sexy smirk.

       “Mmmmm…” I said.  “Did you buy all that for me?”  I asked, coming closer to him, running one finger along his thigh, past his balls, up his pelvis, up his chest, to his chin.  He couldn’t keep himself from grinning.  He couldn’t help himself at all.

       “No.  That’s all for when I masturbate…”

       “Which you will not be doing, ever again.” I ordered, and he shuddered and whimpered as I twisted the bandana tightly.  I pressed it against his lips and he opened his mouth of his own free will.  I slid it in as far as I could go and tied it as tightly as possible behind his head.  He completely relaxed and I knew his eyes were rolled back in his head as his neck bent in a strange way as it ceased to support his head.

       “Do you like this, puppy?”

       He nodded.  I smacked his chest.  He breathed heavily around the gag, his nostrils flared.

       “Say ‘Yes, Nicole’.”

       “Yeth, Nitole.” he said.  It was fairly intelligible, and I relaxed a bit.

       “Say your safe word, just for practice, so I know what it sounds like.”

       “Nitty.” he said, and I nodded and put my hand on the side of his neck.

       “Good.  Now shut up.” I said.  I thought about the rubber bands and decided I could not resist them.  I grabbed a bunch and sat on the bed, right by his dick.  I stroked it with one finger and he moaned, growing a little harder, and I realized the rubber bands were the perfect size to go around his dick exactly once.  I smirked because I knew he must have chosen them carefully as I stretched one out with four fingers, carefully lowering it over his penis so he couldn’t feel it until I had it down near the base, and I let it go with a snap.

       He screamed and twitched and writhed, as much as he could, his body shaking and I laughed softly.

       “Do you like it, puppy?” I asked, and I heard him scream “Yeth!”, and then an unintelligible sound that I knew was the word more.

       I pulled out the next one and slid it down not quite as far letting it go with another snap.  He screamed again, arching his back even more than he had to, and I repeated the process, snapping more and more rubber bands around his dick, covering it with them, precum leaking out of his tip like crazy.  I reached down and sucked it off, his tip even more swollen than usual because of the constraints on the rest of his member, and once I had my lips there I didn’t want to remove them so I sucked, just on his tip, and licked it, and caressed it with my tongue, and he twitched and moaned.  I reached up and squeezed his balls, gently but he attempted to jerk and he whimpered, they were so sensitive.  I wanted to rubber band those, too, but they seemed so fragile; I didn’t know if I would actually damage them.

       I pulled my lips away from his tip as he breathed heavily on the bed, panting, his gag already soaked with drool.

       “Is it okay if I rubber band your balls, too?”

       “YES!” he screamed, and I couldn’t help the smile on my face.  I took a rubber band and first snapped it against his swollen tip, his scream delicious in my ears.  I snapped his tip a few more times, reveling in the sound of his voice tearing from his throat, before I pulled out his ball sac and stretched a rubber band around it, snapping it to his skin.  He twitched as much as he could, choking himself on his collar, which cut off his cry of agony and I felt my cum drip between my legs, soaking the lingerie I wore.  I pulled back the rubber band and snapped it again, savoring the deliciousness of the way his body twitched, his nostrils flared, and I knew he had to have tears in his eyes under the blindfold.  I snapped the rubber band against his balls repeatedly, letting him calm down between snaps so he could feel the full effect each time, sweat glistening on his skin as he panted heavily through his drool-soaked gag.  I was enjoying the screams too much, I really wanted the gag off so I could hear him properly.

       “I can’t stand it; your screams are too delicious.” I said, reaching behind his head and removing the gag.  “We’ll save this for when your parents are home.” I said, not that it mattered, since his room was soundproof.

       I bent down and kissed his lips, and he responded back to me with passion and longing, and for a moment I was lost in his delicious taste and sexy tongue as I pushed his head roughly to the bed.  He inhaled and exhaled deeply, washing me in his breath, and my eyes fluttered closed as I wanted suddenly only to be close to him, to feel his body against mine, and my heart pounded like crazy.  I wanted these lips on every part of my body, his tongue in every place, and I grew hot and wondered if this was what vanilla people felt, but two seconds later I was sorry his hands weren’t free as my ass screamed to be slapped.  I pulled back from the kiss.

       “That was delicious.” I said to him, and he smiled with both sides of his mouth, totally unable to control his face at all.

       “I think I want more of your lips.” I said, standing up and removing the lingerie, since he couldn’t see it now anyway.  I crawled up and lowered my pussy over his head, squeezing it between my thighs.

       “Pleasure me, puppy.” I said, my voice low, my heart pounding deeply and heavily as he licked me, and I suddenly felt totally different, completely hot in a new way.  I reached down and grabbed his dick, causing him to jerk, but he did not stop his work with his tongue.  I pulled one of the rubber bands away from his dick and let it snap against him, and he screamed into my clitoris, the vibration making me twitch with pleasure.

       “Mmmmm… that felt delicious.” I said, my voice low and husky.  I snapped him again, and again, and again, his body shivering under me as the heat in my clit became impossibly hot.  I pulsed slow, and deep, and hard, an orgasm like I’d never felt in my life as I hurriedly and roughly removed all of the rubber bands from him and slid his penis down my throat, deeply, wanting him to feel what I felt.  He moaned and shuddered, my orgasm lasting a very long time as I crushed his face, his penis growing hard in my mouth, and I finally got to bite him.  I clamped down hard, and he pulsed deeply, and I knew he was very close to going off.  I didn’t want him to, yet, but my body was so hot with desire I couldn’t fight it.  I let go and slid my lips up his shaft a little and then clamped down again, and his deep, husky moan into my crotch made me even hotter.  I bit him harder, and he totally relaxed, every muscle in his body failing him as he stopped licking me, which was okay because my orgasm was ending. 

       I raised my hips and he gasped for air, and then I bit him again, harder than before.

       “Ohhhhhh…” he said, his voice low and husky.  “Nicole…if you do that again, I’m going off, there’s no stopping it….”

       I bit him once more, hard, with all my teeth, and he pulsed in my mouth as I kept my teeth clamped around him.  The sounds escaping his lips were incredibly sexy as the only motion he was capable of was pulsing, and I let the salty liquid run out of my mouth, all over him in a giant mess, not relenting the grip of my teeth until I was sure he was done.

       I got up and turned to face him.  His cheeks were flushed pink, his ears were bright red, and he looked utterly, completely relaxed.  I pulled off his bandana so I could see the rest of his face, and he wore an expression of absolute euphoria, even more than the first orgasm he’d had from the whipping.

       He looked up and gave me an adorable smile, his face suddenly completely innocent, and I reached up and stroked his hair and he sighed and closed his eyes.

       “Puppy, do you want to be untied?” I asked softly.

       “No.” he said softly, already drifting into the land of sleep.  “No, Nicky, don’t untie me, don’t untie me ever, stay with me, hurt me all night like you promised…”

       My breath caught in my throat as I realized he’d used his safe word- he was using his safe word to keep from being untied.  That was more terrifying to him.

       I got into the bed and lay down next to him, stroking his face gently.

       “I will.” I said softly, kissing his cheeks, his nose.  “I’ll stay with you longer than just tonight; I want to be with you forever, Matt.” I said, and his face shook and he looked ready to cry.

       “Really?” he asked.

       “Yes.” I answered.  “I know I’m never going to find anyone more perfect than you.” 

       I knew it was true.  He was just so impossibly unique, each part of him matching up perfectly with a part of myself.  I had dreamed of torturing a penis since I was six; he wanted his penis to be tortured.  I had dreamed of tying up a boy since I was five; he begged for me to tie him up.  But more than that, I had dreamed my whole life for a boy to need me, to depend on me, to want me around him, to ask me to tell him what to do, and here was Matt, all of those things, wrapped in an amazingly sexy body on top of that, the icing on the cake. 

       And he had dreamed of a girl to be in charge of him, to tell him what to do, to make him do things and to do things to him.  A girl who wanted him around.  And I was all of that for him.  I knew, as he fell asleep in my arms, my cheek resting on his forehead, that he was it, for the rest of my life.

       

       He slept for an hour, and in that time I dozed on and off as well, drifting in and out of dreams of Matt offering his perfect body to me.  By now it was five-thirty, and I heard my stomach grumble.  I hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast.

       Matt stirred beside me.  He shifted as he started to awaken.  He felts his bonds.  He immediately started to get hard.  He opened his eyes and I stroked his face.

       “Morning, puppy.” I said, and he gave me the most adorable, irresistible smile I’d ever seen.

       “Good morning, Nicole.” he said.  “Please hurt me, Nicole.”

       A gush of wetness oozed out from between my legs.  I kissed his lips.

       “We need to have dinner.” I said.  He frowned for a moment, as if just realizing now that he was hungry.

       “Yes, Nicole.” he said.

       “Do you have any food here?”

       “Yes, Nicole.”

       “Do you know how to cook?”

       He laughed.

       “I know how to put a frozen dinner in a microwave.”

       I giggled, stroking one fingernail down his cheek.

       “You are such a teenage boy.”

       “Mmmmm…isn’t that why you like me?” he said, and I couldn’t help it; I gave him a long, delicious kiss.  He gazed at me dreamily.

       “I have to piss.” he said, and I smiled.

       “Then I better get you dressed.”

       He grew harder.  He tried to glanced down at his growing dick, but his collar prevented him.  I traced my fingers lightly down his chest, which had raw, horizontal lines across it now, and stroked his penis.

       “Curious about this?” I asked as I grabbed it, and his eyes rolled back in his head.  “Don’t you worry; I have more plans for it.”

       I felt a pulse of blood rush through the veins in his dick and make him harder.  I squeezed it until he grunted, and then I sat up and slapped his ass.

       “Come on, I’m not gonna let you starve.” I said.  I was hungry, too, but it just felt so much more important to me that I feed him.  I didn’t understand it and I couldn’t explain it; but I wanted to take perfect care of him while I was causing him pain.  I got up and dug through all the bags we’d gotten from the store yesterday and found a pair of lacey black panties and a pair of tight stretch jeans.  I put them on, the tops of the panties peeking out, and I stuck my ass out towards him.

       “What do you think?” I asked.

       “Very sexy.” he said.  I smacked his ass.  He smirked.  “Very sexy, Nicole.” he said.  I went back to searching for a top.  “Nicole?” he asked, and I turned back to face him.

       “Yes, puppy?”

       He bit his lower lip and I noticed his breathing was quickened. His penis pulsed with want.

       “You will tell me what is on your mind, puppy.”

       He shifted his eyes so they locked on mine.

       “I want to call you ‘Mistress’.”

       That smirk which he usually wore appeared involuntarily on my lips. 

       “Not at school, of course.” he added quickly, as if he couldn’t see how much I loved this idea on my face, “But when we’re like this…”

       I walked over and put one finger under his chin, my face hovering over his as the back of his head rested on the bed.

       “Does this mean you accept my full ownership of you?”

       His eyes rolled back in his head at the sentence and I waited for him to compose himself.

       “Oh, yes.” he squeaked.  “Own me…”

       I tugged on his collar and he moaned.

       “Own me, Mistress, please, show me how I’m yours…”

       I knew what he wanted.  I got up and went to the desk, where I picked up the sharp scissors.  I opened them and held the pointed tip to his throat, and gently, slowly, leaving only a thin red scratch I dragged it down his chest, over his abdomen, and down his inner thigh to his knee.  When I lifted the blade he gasped in air, as if he’d been holding his breath and his penis became purple with hardness.  I moved my face back up to his.

       “Before tonight is over, I will mark you as mine.” I said, and he whimpered with desire.

       “Yes, Mistress!  Yes….” he said, and I kissed his forehead.  I heard his stomach grumble.

       “We will eat dinner first.”

       “Yes, Mistress.”

       I could tell how much he loved to say it.  I reminded myself to give him more verbal commands, to give him the chance to use it.

       I placed the scissors on the nightstand and slid my hands down to his ankles, where I untied him.  Blood rushed into his feet and he whimpered.

       “Oh, pins and needles…” he said, biting his lower lip as he kicked his feet.  I reached up and untied his wrists as well, and he tried to immediately get up, choking himself.  I laughed.

       “Did you already forget that I own you?  I never told you could move.”

       He froze and whimpered, wanting to get the blood flowing to his extremities.  I laughed, and walked to the top of the bed and untied his collar.

       “Sit up.” I ordered, and he sat up, shaking his feet and rolling his shoulders.

       “Are you in pain?” I asked.

       “Yes, Mistress.”

       “Whenever you are in pain, you will describe it to me.”

       “Yes, Mistress.  My feet tingle with no blood and my shoulders are sore and my wrists are sore, my whole body is sore.” he said, looking at his wrists, the imprints of the ropes set deep in his skin.

       “Mmmm….” he said when he saw them, that smirk he could do nothing about coming to his lips.

       “Get up.” I said, and he did, shaking his feet.  I pulled out another pair of tight underpants from his drawer, realizing this was his last pair.

       “You will buy more of these.” I said.

       “Yes, Mistress.”

       “Put them on.”

       “Yes, Mistress.”

       I handed him his jeans and he put those on as well.  Then I tugged on his collar and led him to the bathroom.  I realized I had to pee as well, which I thought worked out perfectly.

       “Stand in the shower and piss yourself.” I said.

       “Yes, Mistress.” he replied, and he stepped into the tub and nothing happened.

       “I can’t…”

       I sat on the toilet and started to pee myself, knowing the sound would help him.  His nostrils flared and I could tell he was trying, but he was too well trained by life and couldn’t do it.  I finished and raised an eyebrow at his dry jeans.

       “I’m sorry, Mistress, I really am trying…”
       “I guess you don’t have to go badly enough.” I said, yanking his collar.

       “No, I do…I…”

       I slapped his face.

       “Are you arguing with me?”

       “I’m sorry, Mistress.”

       “If I tell you something about your body, you will agree.”

       “Yes, Mistress.”
       “If I say you don’t have to go badly enough, you don’t.”

       “Yes, Mistress.”

       I was aware that this might not be the case; that he really might have to go and just couldn’t get it out with jeans on, and I didn’t want him to get an infection.  I raised the toilet seat roughly, pretending to be angry.

       “Get it out, puppy, it seems you need to be trained.”

       He obeyed, and the moment the piss started to flow he shoved it back in and stepped into the shower, letting the pee flow, and cum poured into my new panties as I watched, having no idea why this was so hot to me and also not caring.  The splotch of wetness spread across his crotch and then down the side of one leg, and I laughed softly. 

       “Mmmmm…yes, Matt, piss your pants like a good boyfriend…” I said, my cheeks flushed hot.  Maybe it was the power that I could make him do such a humiliating thing; but it was more than that.  I’d always dreamed of it.  His uncomfortable face completed the picture, except that once he saw he had pleased me, his smirk returned.

       I reached out and grabbed his dick through his jeans, rubbing it, feeling its warm wetness.

       “How do you feel?” I asked.

       “Gro…” he began, but I squeezed his dick, hard, and he stopped.  I could see he was trying to remember back to two days ago, when I had taught him what to say.

       “Hot and wet, Mistress.  I feel humiliated and I like it.”

       I smiled and gave his nipple a quick pinch.

       “Such a good bitch you are.” I said, and he moaned and nearly collapsed to the floor.

       “Oh, God, why does it feel so good when you call me that?” he said.  I couldn’t tell him.  I had no idea.

       “I don’t have an answer.” I said, very truthfully.  “I also don’t care.  You just make sure you tell me when you like things, so I can do it.  Or not.”

       “Yes, Mistress.” he said.

       “Now clean up, dirty boy, and come upstairs when you’re clean.  Wear another pair of jeans and clean boxers.” I said.

       “Yes, Mistress.” he replied, and I washed my hands and left to go find a top.  I found a nice, skin-tight low-cut purple camisole and put it on over a black push-up bra that made my breasts pop out nicely.  I went upstairs as I heard him running the water and examined the freezer, noting that there was an ice dispenser in the door but also a bucket full of half-crescent ice cubes in the freezer as well.  I searched until I found a stash of ziploc bags, remembering where they were, for later.  By the time he came up, holding his own collar, I was seated innocently at the table.

       “Open your fly, it’s more sexy.” I said, and he obeyed.  “Good.  Heel.” I said, and he came to my side, where I reached up and removed his collar.

       “Now make us dinner.  I’m not picky.” I said. 

       “Yes, Mistress.”

       I watched him as he worked, his nipples going hard from sticking his bare arms in the freezer, him studying the directions on the back of the frozen dinners, him poking holes in the plastic and heating them up one at a time.  On his own he got out two plates and scooped the food onto them, and two glasses, with ice.  I watched his delicious body as he set the table, brought me my utensils, and even napkins. 

       “What would you like to drink, Mistress?” he asked, listing for me the choices in the fridge.

       “Soda is fine.” I said, and he poured our drinks, replaced the bottle in the fridge, served our meals, and then stood absolutely still.  A sly grin escaped my lips.  He had complete his orders; he did not have permission to sit, and he knew it.

       “You may sit and eat, puppy.” I said, and he grinned, unable to help himself.  He pulled out his chair.

       “Thank you, Mistress.” he said, as we ate breaded chicken, mashed potatoes, and macaroni and cheese.

       “If we had our own kitchen, I would tell you to learn how to cook.” I said.  He smiled.

       “I would learn anything for you.” he said, and I knew that wasn’t part of the game.  He meant it.

       “I know you would.” I replied.  “But it’s probably better for you to focus on your music and art, instead.”

       He stared down at his plate for a moment, deep in thought.

       “Do you really mean that?” he asked.

       “Yes.  Matt, I think your music is amazing.”

       “For real?”

       “For real.  I would never, ever lie to you.  You are too precious for that.”

       He stared down at his plate, suddenly unsure of himself, suddenly nervous.

       “I guess it’s stupid; it’s every high school kid’s dream to be in a band…”

       I reached over the table and lifted his chin with the side of my finger, rather than the tip, gently but firmly.  I waited until he looked into my eyes.

       “Your dreams are not stupid.” I said, and his bottom lip quivered and he placed his utensils down on the table.

       “I love you, Nicky.” he said, and I got up and pulled him tightly into my arms, and he hugged me back, and we held each other for a moment on the cold kitchen floor while I stroked his hair and he rested his cheek on my shoulder.

       “I love you too, Matt.” I said, and he squeezed me tight, and we had used our safe words so the game was over for the moment.  This was real.

       “I’ve never had anyone care about my dreams before.” he said softly, and I stroked his hair.

       “I’ve never had any dreams, not any real ones, until now.” I said.  He pulled back and looked softly into my face.

       “What are you dreams now?” he asked, and I smiled sweetly.

       “To be with you.  Always.  I want to see you happy, Matt.”

       He quivered and kissed me sweetly, and for a moment we were just plain lovers, just two kids in love.  We finished dinner with normal conversation, until our plates were clean, and I was waiting for his cue for what he wanted: if he wanted to go back to the game, or just cuddle together for the rest of the night; maybe have him play me some guitar.

       He rose to his feet and held out his hand towards my plate.

       “Are you finished, Mistress?” he asked, that knee-jellying smirk of pleasure on his face, and my heart started to pound furiously.

       “Yes, puppy, you may clear the table.”

       He put the dishes in the dishwasher and then wiped down the table, the muscles in his back flexing as I watched, sighing with contentedness.  He finished and then stood before me, his hands clasping his elbows behind his back, waiting for directions.  I lifted his collar off of the table and he closed his eyes with pleasure as I reattached it around his neck.  I handed him the leash.

       “Strip.” I said, and he obeyed, and I saw to my satisfaction that he was only somewhat hard.  He then stood still, his jeans and boxers draped over his arm.

       “Go lay on your bed and close your eyes.” I said.

       “Yes, Mistress.” he said, and he vanished down the stairs.  I waited until I was sure he couldn’t hear, then got a plastic bag and filled it with ice.  I shut the freezer door softly and walked down into the basement, closing the door at the top of the stairs.

       I appeared in the doorway to see him naked, arms lying defenselessly at his sides, eyes closed, perfectly still.

       “Do not move, do not open your eyes.” I said, and I placed the bag of ice on his balls.  He yelped and jerked, then struggled with all his might not to move as his penis shrunk down to a little bitty size, floppy and cute.  I took the shoelace that he kept in his drawer, which was maybe an eighth of an inch thick, and started to gently wrap it around his small, floppy dick.  I didn’t tie off either end, not yet; so there was some room for expansion, but it would squeeze him nicely.  His breathing increased as he realized what I was doing, and even with the bag of ice, a few pulses of blood came through and made his penis expand a bit before it contracted again.

       I then tied each of his ankles together, leaving the bag of ice squeezed between his hips as he started to shiver.  I secured a rope from his ankles to the frame under the bed, and then I tied his leash to the pipes in the wall, so that if he tried to contract his body at all, either stomach or legs, he would choke himself.

       “Arms behind your back.” I said.  “Lay on your side.”

       He obeyed, his eyes still closed, and I retied his wrists tightly together, pulling his shoulders wide.  He whimpered.  I slapped his ass, very hard.

       “When you are in pain you are to describe it to me!” I chastised.

       “Yes, Mistress!  My shoulders are sore from being tied up earlier; being pulled this tight again really hurts.”

       I removed the bag of ice and pinched his nipples.

       “You don’t yet know the meaning of hurt.” I said, and I watched as this made him start to grow hard, the string around his dick already binding him as he whimpered.  I twisted his nipples more.

       “My nipples are sore from so much attention tonight, my dick hurts, the pressure from that string…”

       I leaned close so my lips came near his ear.

       “Is only going to get worse.” I whispered, and he grew harder and the shoelace truly started constrict him, and he wriggled, whimpered, and moaned.

       “Mmmm…does it hurt, puppy?” I asked.

       “Yes, Mistress.”

       “Do you like it, puppy?”

       “Yes, Mistress.  Please, hurt me more.”

       My heart started to pound in my chest as wetness soaked my dainty panties.  I grabbed the clothespins and put them on his nipples, and he whimpered, then moaned.  I undressed myself and shoved his head to the bed and climbed over him, resting my pussy on his lips.

       “Pleasure me while I hurt you.” I said, and he squirmed as his dick tried to grow, and the ropes bound him, and his penis became very purple.  He started to lick me, and I pulled on the clothespins that were attached to his nipples, and he sometimes cried out and it felt so delicious to have his whimpers of pain vibrate my clitoris.  I reached to the end table and grabbed more clothespins.  I waited until I was getting very hot, until my juices were nearly drowning him, to clip a clothespin onto the tip of his penis.

       His resulting scream went as high-pitched as a little girl’s and he arched his back off the bed, cutting off his own air from the collar and he collapsed, panting and whimpering.

       “Mistress, please take it off, ow, ow, ow, oh, please, please, it hurts so bad oh….”

       He started to cry.

       “You’re not pleasuring me, puppy.” I said.  “Do you want another one?”

       He started to lick furiously and I smirked, because I knew he loved it, because he was dark-purple hard and he continued to call me Mistress.

       “Mmmmm…oh, yes, just like that….” I said as the heat started to truly build in me.

       “Are you in pain, puppy?”

       “Yes, Mistress.” he said, his voice muffled.

       “Do you like it?”

       “Yes, Mistress.” he said, his voice low and husky, and I knew he really did like it.  I started to grind myself into him and then I orgasmed, moaning with pleasure as I leaned forward.  I removed the clip on his tip and he screamed again, and then I started to suck on the tip of his penis and he began to cry.  I fit the whole thing in my mouth, even with the shoelace, and bit down, the pressure causing him to buck against my body but he managed to somehow continue licking me, until my orgasm calmed down and I melted on top of him, his dick still in my mouth.  I let it slide out and kissed the swollen side of it, where part of his flesh oozed out between the laces.

       He panted heavily, tears streaming down his cheeks.

       “Mistress, please cut me, please, hurt me, make me bleed, please, please…”

       His begging was so irresistible that I had no choice.  I had to comply.  I was still powerless to resist him, even as he surrendered all of his power to me.  I rose off of the bed.

       “Alright, but not with scissors, let’s start small.” I said.  “This kind of thing could be very dangerous and I don’t want you in danger.”

       He sobbed and nodded, his gorgeous brown eyes gazing at me from a worried face.  I bit my lower lip.  I wanted to ask him if he was okay; but at the same time I knew he needed this game, and to break it now at the height of the climax would be cruel.  I had to trust him that he would tell me if it was too much. 

       I searched his room for some object that I could use to cut him that wasn’t as dangerous as scissors.  My eyes settled on some paperclips on top of his desk.  I took one and unfolded it, leaving the pointed tip and showed it to him.  He stared at it as if he was in love with it.  His cheeks flushed.  He started to drool and he nodded.  Then he whimpered and struggled as the shoelace constricted around his pulsing dick.  I thought that wasn’t appropriate for this activity, so I unwound it and he sighed heavily.  I stroked his swollen dick gently.

       “Is that better, puppy?” I asked.

       “Yes, Mistress.  Please cut me.”

       “Don’t you worry.” I said, running my hand gently up his thigh, his pelvis, his abdomen, his chest.

       “I’m going to wash it.” I said.  “I’ll be right back.”  I kissed his forehead as he whimpered.  I went into the bathroom and rubbed soap on the end of it, running it under the hot water, wondering if we were in over our heads.  But when I walked back to the room and saw him, bound and panting and begging to be hurt, I couldn’t refuse.  I had no power to refuse him at all.  He owned me as much as he begged for me to own him.

       I sat down on the bed beside him and searched his body.

       “Where do you want to be hurt, puppy?” I asked softly, licking my lips, staring at the tip of the paperclip lustfully.  I wanted to cut him.  I wanted to see his flesh bleed. 

       “Oh, oh….” he said, rolling his eyes back in his head.  “You would let me choose?”

       “Yes, this time.  It’s our first time; I will let you choose.”

       In fact, I was mostly doing this for him.  I wanted him to feel as much pleasure as possible, and I didn’t know him well enough to know what that would be, yet.  I supposed in time, after we got to know each other’s bodies better, I would be able to cause him this kind of pleasure without his directions.  But right now, for this, I needed him to tell me what he wanted.

       “My arm…so I can see it, look at it, all day, know that you did it to me, know how you own me, how I’m yours.” he said, panting heavily with want and anticipation.

       “Then I will have to untie you.”

       “No!” he said, and I stroked his cheek.        

       “Shhhh….quiet, puppy.  Your mistress knows what to do.” I said.  I crawled behind him and started to untie the ropes that bound his wrists, and he started to sob.

       “No, no, no…” he said, but just as he thought his wrists were free, I tied a knew knot around just one of them.  I pulled it up, raising his left arm above his head, tying it to the pipe in the wall.  His right wrist I clasped firmly in my hand, squeezing him very hard in my grasp.

       “Don’t you want to watch?” I asked him, and he stared at his arm wide-eyed in my grasp, as I forcefully turned his wrist, twisting his palm to face the mattress and the outside of his arm to face the ceiling.  He grew harder and started to pant faster.  I lowered the tip of the paperclip to just under his elbow, squeezing his wrist as hard as I could, so he would feel I was in control, so he would feel bound.

       “This is so you know you are mine.” I said to him, and I felt myself start to drool with desire as I pressed the tip of the metal very hard against his skin and started to drag it down his arm.  At first there was just a white scrape, so I pressed harder as I went, causing a pink line, and then I pushed even harder until I saw red liquid start to flow from the cut as I dragged it slowly down to his wrist.  At first there wasn’t much, but a few seconds later, red oozed up to the surface and spilled slowly over the side of his arm, not enough at first even to drip to the bed.  Matt’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he gave a deep, satisfied moan.

       “Ohhhhh…yeahhhh….” he said.   “Mmmmmm….”

       I couldn’t help it; I dripped with cum and desire burned in me.  Watching myself hurt him caused a deep sense of satisfaction in me that had been denied my entire life, ever since I’d bitten that bunny’s ear.  Here was a creature that I loved, that I could not resist, that wanted me to hurt it.  I stared down at the delicious red scrape in his arm, watching the beautiful red hurt flow out of it slowly, gently, as I reached his wrist with the paperclip and lifted it away from his skin.

       It took him a moment to even come around.  His cheeks were flushed, his ears were red, his eyes were dazed as if he’d just gone off.  I saw such a satisfied look on his face…

       “Nicole…your face…” he said, glancing at me from behind half-closed eyes.  “You look like you just made love for the first time…so pink…”

       He gazed at me in wonder.

       “You should see your own face.” I said.  His eyebrows then changed and he became exceedingly sweet and tender.

       “Make love to me, Nicky.  Sweet and slow.  Untie me, Nicky.” he said softly, and I obeyed his safe word.  I could not refuse him.  I could never refuse him.  Did he know that?  Had I told him that?

       I dug around in his nightstand for the box of condoms and unwrapped one, rolling it quickly onto his extremely hard dick.  I then reached up and untied his wrist, and then not wanting to bother with a million knots, found the scissors and cut his ankles free.  He stretched and jiggled his feet a little and then lay there, his unhurt arm folded over the top of his head, his bleeding one resting down at his side, his knees and dick in the air as he gazed at me, and it was the sweetest, sexiest, hottest thing I’d ever seen in my life.  I had thought I had been in love before, but nothing compared with the rush of sweetness and affection I felt then as I crawled on top of him.

       I lowered myself onto his dick and it felt very sweet and delicious.  I was plenty wet; I was plenty turned on, and when we moved together it was heaven.  I took both of his wrists and pinned them on the bed at his sides and he gazed at me dreamily as I rode him, slow and sweet, as he’d asked me, until the passion built up enough that he orgasmed, and I felt his pleasure as he twitched inside me, and I saw the rosy color in his cheeks as I squeezed him inside of me.

       He collapsed to the bed, exhausted, and I crawled up and lay on top of him, my breasts pressing into his chest.  I gazed into his delicious, amorous, satisfied face.  He reached up with his bloody arm and stroked my hair, and then we both turned to look at it, the blood now smeared from having rubbed against the sheets.

       “I can’t believe this is real.” he said, in a daze.  I smiled and kissed his cheek.

       “It’s real, Matt.” I said.  I felt my heart pounding in my chest; he must have felt it as well.  “I own you.” I said.  His smirk was nowhere as he gave me a true, genuine smile.  He sighed like a gorgeous fairytale princess.

       “You do.” he said.  “Oh, and how I love it…”

       I kissed his lips.

       We both turned to look at his arm again, the thick blood causing drips down it but not really enough to continue past his elbow as he held his hand up in the air.  He gazed at it adoringly.

       “I want to remember this moment forever.” he said.  “I don’t ever want to forget this.”

       I lay my head on his chest and watched as he twisted his arm, glancing at it in the light, the blood already starting to dry.  I heard him sniffle.  I picked up my head and wiped his tears away gently with my thumbs.

       “Shhhhh….” I said softly, and he smiled.

       “No, these are happy tears.” he said.  “This…this is the best moment of my life.”

       I smiled sweetly at him as he lowered his arm back down to the bed.  I brushed his hair away from his eyes.

       “Funny, I was just thinking how this is the best moment of my life.” I said.  He smiled and his eyes started to drift closed, and I knew he was about to fall asleep again.

       “Dream peacefully, Matt.  I’m not going to wake you; I’m not going to start the game again until you tell me.  You used your safe word, you’re safe…”

       He sighed contentedly and wrapped both of his arms around me, and I felt the sticky blood smear on my back, and I liked it.

       “I’m always safe with you, Nicky.” he said softly.  “There’s no one else in the world I trust more.”

       I smiled as we both started to drift asleep.

       “I trust you with all my heart, too.” I said dreamily, before sleep finally overcame both of us.  That was the first time in my life I’d ever spent the night with someone next to me, and I have never slept with anyone else.