A Pee Into Their Lives

*Warning: This story is just a mental musing and I do not believe it will be continued. It is meant to start you up, to get you thinking. If you're annoyed by stories that start and do not finish, you should probably skip this one.*

*****

"Hello,"

His voice was behind her, calm and most definitely male, most definitely his. She stiffened and considered the room. She was facing the window and the door was directly behind her, where his voice was. Unless she wanted to leap from the window in an overly dramatic escape, she was stuck. This made her heart pump faster, adrenaline flowing as feat and excitement overwhelmed her.

"Hi"

She wanted to answer him calmly, confidently. Instead her voice came out sounding thin and the word trailed off unfinished. She swallowed hard, but she did not turn around. She could feel him moving closer to her. She still jumped when she felt his hand rest on her shoulder; her muscles were too tense to prevent that.

"Are you scared?" He sounded amused.

"No" she lied, still barely whispering.

"You didn't think you could tease me all this time and not deal with the consequences, not really." His hand trailed over her shoulder and down her front. She looked down at it as he moved to cup her tit. His hand was big and it made her small breast seem a little smaller. He followed the curve of her breast and tried to pinch her nipple. Her bra protected the already hardening tip but she couldn't help but lean back slightly, moaning, anyway.

She didn't bother answering him. Honestly, she kind of did think she could get away with it. The idea of him trapping her was a welcome fantasy, but never an actual consideration. Now that the moment had come she was not sure what to do. Part of her wanted to run, wanted to find a way out of paying the consequences of her teasing. Another part wanted to give in, to drop to her knees and beg him to punish her, to teach her to be a good slut. So she did nothing at all. She stood frozen and watched while his other hand came around her hip to travel up her stomach. This time he slid under her shirt and when he reached her breast, he went under the bra. He found her nipple, hard as a pebble, and gave it a gentle pinch, tugging it. She moaned again and leaned back on him. Her legs were being surprisingly unhelpful.

"You're shaking." He told her and she was. She still did not answer him, she knew that her voice was gone and did not want to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how excited, aroused, and terrified she was. He might think he knew, but better to remain silent than to open her mouth and confirm it. He pulled away from her and she felt his hand grasp her arm. He led her gently toward the bed. His hands were very strong, she could feel the strength in their grip, but at the moment he was treating her gently. That scared her more than if he had tried to force her to the bed.

She gave no resistance as he grabbed her head and pushed, having her bend over the bed with her ass in the air. Her upper body rested on the covers. She tensed, but still did not move as he rubbed his hands up her thighs. She was breathing hard, teased by his slow movements. What was he thinking? What was he going to do? Not knowing was driving her crazy. She was sure that any moment he was going to lift her skirt and find that her panties were wet. She was embarrassed by her body's fast response to him and did not want him to point it out.

Instead he stepped back. She waited several long moments, and then lifted her head to look at him. He was watching her and when they made eye contact he grinned. It was not a nice grin.

"Take your panties off." He said, "Rub your pussy for me."

Heat, shame, pleasure, and desire flooded her, but she found herself shaking her head. She could not. It had been so long, she felt insecure, shy and more than a little nervous. She reverted back to the bratty attitude that was her shield, and that had gotten her in this trouble in the first place.

"No," she said, "fuck you."

When he took a step forward she tried to climb up on the bed, planning to scoot to the other side and get out of his reach. He had apparently been waiting for her to try, because he had a strong hand planted on her shoulders, pushing her back down, before she could fully attempt to flee. He pushed her face back onto the covers. This time it was not gentle. She wiggled her ass in an attempt to squirm free but his other hand came down hard making her yelp. She froze, but he spanked her three more times. Each slap coming down hard and making her cry out. She tried to reach back and cover her ass, crying out for him to stop, but he swatted her hands away and continued.

"Now," his voice was a low growl "will you take your panties off?" He waited for her answer for a few seconds. She did not dare say no again, but she also couldn't say yes. "Fine." He said and reached under her skirt. She thought he might yank her panties down but instead he flipped the skirt up. She knew he could see the very wet patch but did not have time to be embarrassed. Before she realized what he was doing he had a grip on her panties and she felt them pulled taunt. Then with the sound of tearing cloth, she felt them pull away from her. He tore the panties off and threw them on the ground.

This time when he stood back she remained bent over the bed. Her ass, trembling, raised.

"Rub your pussy for me." He said and she slowly reached back with one hand to slide her finger along her slit. She was very wet and she wondered if he could see the shine of her arousal. She closed her eyes, face turning red, and rubbed her palm against her clit while allowing her fingers to spread her lips. She knew her ass was wiggling, but she could not seem to stop it.

"Please," she asked and dammit, her voice was still whisper soft, "Don't hurt me."

"Don't worry" he said, "You can take it."

That was a terrifying answer, but in the end it only made her wetter. She touched herself softly, slowly. She enjoyed the feeling of the slow build up and of the tease and she knew he did as well. She tried to lift her head again, to see what he was doing. She wanted to know if he had pulled his cock out, if he was stroking it. She hoped he was but before she could check he had pushed her head down again. She had annoyed him with her attempt to pull away and he was punishing her for it. She struggled with two slides as she thought about this. On one hand she was a brat and her first instinct was to push him. To continue to lift her head and find ways to peek until she was able to watch him standing there stroking his thick cock while he watched her. She wanted to push and push until she won. She wanted to tease him and frustrate him. She needed him to work for his prize and perhaps, she needed to attempt to deny him. On the other hand, she was very wet and he was very good at making her cum. He knew all the right buttons to push. If she were an instrument, he was a master composer and player. She yearned to feel him fill her in one thrust. She needed him to whisper "good girl" into her ear as she arched against him. She was a brat, yes, but she was also his slut.

It had been years since they had last hooked up. He was a friend of a friend and they had hung out for a while, fighting the very real sparks of lust. She was not sure what it was about him that got her thinking dirty things, but it was clear he had the same types of thoughts. The second time they had all hung out was at a dinner. One of the friends had canceled and that left just the three of them. After dinner their mutual friend, Jack, had to head home. He had classes in the morning and a lot of homework. She had not had that issue and wanted to stay out a little longer. He had agreed to join her. They had gone out for drinks, though neither of them had much to drink. Instead they sat in a crowded bar and talked. The talk was fun and quickly began to move into less innocent territory.

They decided to continue the evening on the patio of the bar. The night air was fairly chilly, and they had the patio to themselves except when a server would come out to check on them. They had dared to talk more freely now. She thought he was trying to shock her, telling her about adventures in bondage and with domination and she had been enthralled. She was not a submissive type she had told him and he had laughed. Everyone had the potential to be a submissive if they met the right person.

Somehow this had led to a rather informal game of truth or dare. They returned to his apartment and he had challenged her. He wanted to see her strengths, her weaknesses. She had been very excited and very nervous but also turned on by both. In the long run they spent many nights together, but they never progressed beyond friends with benefits. They would meet up when they were single, and had the time, and would go months without talking in between. Over time he had learned a lot about her. She was right when she said she was not much of a submissive, but he could bring that side out of her at times. She was also a very odd mix of shy and brazen, slutty and innocent, tempting and awkward. She was also very turned on by being afraid and loved to try new things simply because they scared her. He thought this was one of the oddest things about her. She kept herself safe and did not let herself get into situations where she had any reason to be afraid. Once she trusted him though, she had allowed him to do things to her and bring her into situations that she would have never allowed with anyone else.

All that led to tonight, to this. They had not spoken in nearly a year, she was in a relationship and they were both dealing with their own lives. Then she had broken up with her boyfriend and started working at a book store down the street from his new apartment. He had stopped in to browse and found her there. The sparks were still flying. He left to home and had not made it more than a dozen yards when a text came in. It was her, and she was being naughty. She put images into his head, her bent over the bookshelves with a little skirt riding up. He warned her to stop and promised her that he would punish her if she did not. Of course, she did not.

Over the weeks she continued to attempt to torture him. She would send short stories, recall favorite memories, and send pictures. He warned her again to stop teasing. He invited her to his apartment but she declined. She told him that if he wanted her, he was going to have to take her. He had asked when and where and she had blown him away. She did not want to make an arrangement and she did not think they would fuck.

"You would have to take it." She told him. "I won't let you. I'm not going to meet you and I'm not going to let myself be in a position for you to take what you want. I'm going to tease you and tease you until you want to grab me in the street. But you won't be able to. I won't let you." He had been amazed, realizing that she was taunting him. She wanted to be trapped, to be taken. The texts did not stop and he gave her explicit warnings about how he was going to snatch her off the street. He promised her that he was going to grab her, use her, and that he would not be gentle. He expected her to back down, to clarify. He was wrong.

"Promises promises." Was her only reply.

Now, after nearly two months, he had snuck into her apartment. He knew where she lived because it was very close to his own apartment. He had considered taking her from the street, but was afraid the police would be called. Instead he had found an open window and came in through that. He knew she would get off work around six and hoped she would come home right away. At six thirty, the door had swung open.

Now she was bent over the bed, her pussy and ass exposed, and fingering herself slowly. He was watching her, amused at her reactions. When she had quietly asked him not to hurt her he wanted to assure her that he would never really hurt her. Instead, he had answered in a way meant to frighten her, knowing how it would make her arousal soar.

He carefully stroked her ass again, his fingers tracing the red lines his hand had left.

"How does it end?" He asked, an old ritual.

"When you say it does, or when I do." She answered immediately, recalling the reassuring words.

"How do you end it?" He asked.

"With the safe word, no other word will do." She recited and then groaned, lifting her ass higher.

He smirked, it was going to be a fun night.