Vandal(33)

She looks at the rope on the floor. “You’ve done this before?”

I pick up the rope and coil it neatly. “Yes. I’ve always had this … need. Craving. Fetish. Whatever you want to call it. I tie up all the women I fuck; I always have. But a lot of that was just for fun, and didn’t touch on the serious aspects of the lifestyle. I’ve never actually been in a true D/s relationship full-time though. I’ve always wanted to, but I never found the right person that I thought I could try it with. It’s complicated.”

“But you do with me? Some random girl you met in a cemetery?”

“Yes,” I reply. “Without a doubt.”

“I really don’t know much about any of this. I’m not going to be a slave.”

“Fuck no, I don’t want that either. I’m friends with this couple. The woman is president of a corporation. She has a ton of responsibility and stress—it’s fucking crazy. Like, she’s in charge of everything that goes on in that company, and she’s great at it. But when she’s home with her partner, she’s submissive and he’s the Dom. She needs that with him, because she gets to let go and relinquish control to someone she trusts and loves. She doesn’t have to make the decisions, or tell people what to do. And it feels good for her to be told what to do, to be controlled.” I study her face for a reaction or some glimmer of understanding, but she’s just tilting her head at me, listening intently, much like a child does when hearing a bedtime story. Like Katie did. “I know it’s hard to understand. Every relationship is different. It’s a total give and take.”

She nods. “That makes sense. I understand that.”

“Some people, they’re into the pain, and degradation. Like you mentioned, they want a slave, or want to be a slave. For me, it’s a mix of things.” Taking her hand, I stand and guide her onto the bed with me where it’s more comfortable. “I think what started this is my childhood. I was abused when I was young. I was beat up by my adoptive father a lot. He liked to belittle me and put me down, and not let me have anything or be able to do anything. He liked to lock me in my room alone. So I think I have a need for control now. I also hate to be touched, so I started tying girls up during sex when I was younger so they couldn’t touch—”

She interrupts me. “You don’t like to be touched? That’s kinda strange. I thought the fun part of having sex was to be touched.”

“For some people. But it’s also an incredible rush to fuck someone who can’t touch you, and on the flip side, to have sex with someone that you’re restrained from touching. Tell me, how did it feel to suck me with your hands tied behind your back?”

Her cheeks redden, and she looks down at her small, pink-tipped fingers clutching the blanket.

“Tell me,” I coax. “I need to know everything you’re feeling.”

She takes a deep breath before answering. “It was scary … but also exciting, in a really weird way. You’re gonna laugh at me for this, but I’ve always hated giving oral because I thought I was doing it wrong, or not good enough, and I had a fear of swallowing and choking.” She peeks at me from under her long, dark eyelashes. “But with you kinda demanding it, and having my hands tied, I didn’t have the chance to back out. It made it easier, as backwards as that sounds.”

“See?” I smile at her. “Giving up control and fears can be good. And it made me happy as fucking hell.”

“Did it? I really made you feel good?”

“You made me feel way better than good. I never get off that fast. You just looked so fucking beautiful, and provoking me to chase you down pushed me right over the edge.”

I’m treading on delicate ground here. Getting involved like this hadn’t been part of my plan. Not that I really had a plan. I just knew I couldn’t stop thinking about her after seeing her, and I just had to get closer to her. Feel her. Hear her. Be part of her. I wasn’t expecting to actually like her. Or to want her so fucking much. Or the possibility of her liking me. I’m fucked.

Standing, I go to my walk-in closet to get some clothes. When I return she’s staring at the wall, not blinking. A lot like Sterling does.

“I’m gonna run out for a little while.”

Her head snaps up. “You’re leaving me here?”