Changing Tide

Tyler and I stood in our kitchen, across the granite island from each other. He was glaring at me, fuming.

"You are. . . I can't fucking believe you," he began, struggling to breathe as his chest heaved with anger, "you flirted with two of my best friends tonight? Right in front of me? And let that male model pretty much feel you up?"

Defiantly, I met his scalding eye contact. I had no intention of avoiding it. I cocked my head to one side, with utter arrogance. Absolutely nothing to say, and even less to feel. That much was probably fairly obviously. So, he felt free to continue:

"Oh, and just to make me feel extra special, I got another credit card bill today which further reminded me that you might actually have 'Bankrupt Tyler' on your To-Do List."

"Sorry," I shrugged.

"Yeah, very sincere. That's a nice dress. What did that cost me? Do I even want to know?"

"Probably not."

"You are so evil," he spat at me.

"Okay," I yawned.

Exasperated, he took his eyes off of me and started looking around with a kind of hushed desperation. I bit my bottom lip. I was enjoying this, sadistically. Unapologetically.

"Did you take me back just so you could make my life a living hell?" he finally asked me.

Since we'd gotten back together six months earlier, all I'd done is find various ways to make him miserable. The breakup had been a result of his failure to be faithful, so I used that as license to punish him now that we were together again.

In addition to spending large amounts of his money and testing the limits on his fiery jealousy, I was recently discovering how pleasurable it was to tease him sexually without ever actually giving him any satisfaction whatsoever. I strutted around the house in the sexiest outfits imaginable, and when he'd try to tell me how great I looked and make attempts at affection, I'd react like a true ice princess and forbid much touching.

Before bed, I'd put on lingerie and spray on my Chanel perfume that he loved. Then, of course, I'd refuse to have sex with him. Sometimes, I'd torture him even further by sleeping topless or completely naked. Always shooting down all of his attempts, no matter how sexy or romantic they actually were, at lovemaking.

In six months, I had let him fuck me twice.

And now, here we were: This six-foot-six pretty boy stood before me in our kitchen, using his eyes to beg me for some kind of mercy or understanding.

I started playing with my platinum hair, bored. Clearly, he if he was looking for kindness, he came to the wrong fucking place. Sighing, I shrugged my shoulders, and started to click my heels on the floor as I walked out of the kitchen. I tossed my hair back over my shoulders as I went, like a true stuck-up bitch.

With a speed I wasn't used to seeing from him, he bolted towards me and pinned me to the wall of the kitchen before I could completely exit. His strong hands wrapped around both my wrists and held them firmly to my sides.

"I'm sick of you walking away from me. I'm not done talking," he said, his voice shaking.

"Let go of me!"

"No."

I wore a pair of my highest platform heels, but Tyler was still taller than me. He looked down at me, studying my face.

"You're beautiful, and I hate you," he said, shaking his head, "that's all I keep thinking. How beautiful you are, and how much I hate you right now."

He lifted my small wrists up over my head, putting them both in one of his large hands. His other arm snaked around my waist; he pressed his looming body into me roughly.

I struggled, trying to get my arms free. But he was much, much stronger than me. He watched me wiggle against the wall and beneath his weight.

"Got somewhere else to go tonight?" he asked, amused.

"Yes."

"Oh yeah? Where?"

"A hotel, now. You're scaring me."

"You're not going anywhere," he told me, his emerald eyes burning into me.

I shivered. He moved his lips down, very close to mine, stopping centimeters from a kiss. Something told me that this was not a tender moment.

"You know, Jess, I'd call you a whore, but that would imply that I'm currently getting laid. And we both know that isn't the case," he whispered, his eyes crazed.

I felt his hand move to grip the small of my back.

"Did you do that in the club tonight just to piss me off?" he demanded.

"Please stop, you're hurting my wrists."

"I don't care. Answer the fucking question. You've been doing that little flirty shit non-stop and it's driving me insane and I'm losing it here. Was that funny to you? You think that was funny?"

I felt it without really seeing it coming first: His big hand, open-palm, striking me across the face with full force. Despite all the hell I'd put him through, all the quiet anger he'd endured, he'd never even come close to hitting me.

Tears burned in my eyes. I could feel a bright-red handprint starting to form on my left cheek. My bottom lip quivered as I looked up at him.

"Fuck you!" I screamed into his face, "I'm leaving! Let me go now!"

"No. I told you, you aren't going anywhere," he said simply, with a quiet cool that was unsettling.

"You just hit me!" I said, my voice cracking as I broke into tears.

Despite my shock, a tingling sensation was rising up from the base of my spine and spreading out into my limbs. I could feel my heart pounding and I was unable to catch my breath.

He ignored my tears.

"Now," he told me, calmly, "you shut up and listen to me. Things have to change, and they change tonight. I've made up my mind about this. I want you, more than I've ever wanted any woman in my life. But you're not going to be this spoiled little entitled fucking brat anymore, is that understood?"

No words came out of my mouth. I couldn't speak if my life had depended upon it.

"Just nod your head, Jess. Do you understand?"

I nodded my head.

"Mmmm," he purred, putting his face down close to mine, affectionately, "I miss you being a good girl for me, you know that?"

"Yes," I whispered, still crying a little.

He kissed me again, to comfort me. Then, his lips moved to my earlobe, where he briefly nibbled and licked for a moment before harshly speaking directly into my ear:

"You're not going to flirt men, women, anyone. Ever. Do you get it?" he whispered roughly in my ear.

I closed my eyes, and felt my heart beat shift up a few gears.

"Yes," I told him quietly, in a little girl's voice.

"And I'm the only person who's going to touch you like that, is that understood?"

"Yes."

"Tell me you're mine," he ordered softly.

"I'm yours," I said, a bit quicker than I would have liked to admit it.

"Goddamn right you are."

He pushed his lower body into me, and I realized just how hard he was. I could feel the head of his cock all the way through his jeans and the thin material of my dress. I heard myself make a tiny moan.

"That feel good?" he asked.

"Uh-huh," I said very quietly, embarrassed, since it had been quite some time since I'd admitted to having any sexual feelings for him.

"Do you miss fucking me?" he wanted to know.

"I don't know."

"You know. Enough bullshit. Tell me."

"A little," I finally said, getting my composure back and straightening my posture.

"You are such a brat. Unbelievable."

He grabbed my hair with one of his fists and pulled it as hard as he could. I cried out with pain and felt more tears in my eyes. He was forcefully shoving his erection into me as well, but the hair-pulling was of far much more concern to me at that moment.

Yanking my head up a bit, towards his mouth, Tyler leaned in and said into my ear one sentence that made me wetter than I'd ever been in my life:

"I'm sick of begging, princess. Tonight, that's going to be your job."

I stuttered, then managed to ask: "What?"

"You heard me. I know how badly you need to get fucked. You want me to fuck you—"

"—No I don't, and you're hurting me again!"

"Don't fucking interrupt me! Do you want to get slapped again?"

"No!"

"Say it, then."

"Say what?"

"Admit. How. Bad. You. Want. This."

His dick was throbbing, pulsating, and I felt it on every inch of my most tender area and digging up into my clit. Despite the pain I was in because of him still roughly holding my hair, my pussy was absolutely drenched.

"No," I stated, still defiant.

"Really?" he threw back, incredulous, "so you're not turned on right now? At all?"

"No."¬¬¬

"Oh. Ok."

I felt one of his strong hands on my thighs, moving upwards at a fast pace.

"No. Stop!" I protested.

Before I could even attempt to fight him, his fingers were on the fabric of my tiny thong. I heard him make a slight chuckle. I tried to calm myself down, but I was dizzy and so turned on that I could hardly breathe. All I could think about was how badly I wanted his fingers inside of me.

"I can feel how soaked you are through your panties. Wow. Such a little liar you are sometimes."

He placed several rough kisses on my neck, then started biting me roughly as I growled, from the pit of my stomach.

I felt him move my thong over to one side, exposing my pussy to his fingers.

"Oh wow," he groaned, "I could just slip my entire cock in right now if I wanted to, that's how fucking wet you are."

My clit was aching; his fingers rubbed up and down my soaked slit, feeling and enjoying the feel of me again.

"God, I missed this tight little pussy," he told me.

My nerves endings howled as he put the tips of his index and middle fingers right under my opening. I shuddered and let out a moan.

"What's wrong, angel? You want these nice thick fingers inside you?"

"Yes," I gasped.

"Too bad," he said coldly, as he started massaging my clit with his thumb and teasing my hole more with the tips of his other fingers.

I moaned and wiggled against the wall. I bit my bottom lip, then felt my cunt get even juicier for him as he teased me by flicking my opening more.

"Mmm," he groaned, "that's it, baby. Drip all over my hand."

"Please?" I asked finally.

"Please?! Wow! There's a first. That feels good. Say it again."

"Please?" I repeated, summoning my sweetest baby-doll voice.

"No. But that's cute, I like that," he said, in between kisses on my neck and cheek.

I started grinding down onto his hand. He let this go on for what seemed like hours, until suddenly, violently, he shoved his middle finger into my pussy.

"YES! TYLER!" I cried out, digging my hands into his shoulders and bucking my hips, trying to get more.

He held his finger perfectly still, frustrating me. I opened my eyes to see him staring down at me, heavily amused and with his eyes absolutely full of lust.

"Good to see you still have some feeling down here," he said dryly, cruelly.

Then, he added: "You're going to give me this pussy tonight. I'm taking every pretty little hole you have tonight, actually. But not until you suffer enough and beg enough. You understand?"

"What? No," I replied as an honest and bewildered response.

Instead of explaining, he withdrew his finger from inside me, picked me up off the floor and started carrying me out of the kitchen.

"What are you doing? Where are we going?" I asked him.

"Where do you think?" he shot back.

Tyler placed me down so that I was sitting on the foot of our big four-poster bed. Crouching down in front of me, he reached up under my dress again.

"What are you doing?"

"Shut up," he told me firmly, simply, "no more out of you unless I ask a question."

Apparently, my sweet pushover of a boyfriend was gone. I watched him in stunned silence as he roughly pulled my panties down to my ankles and worked them over my 5'' heels.

He then stood over me, a victorious smile on his handsome face, holding the thong.

"You gunna play nice, or do I have to get the cuffs out?" he asked me, still smirking.

"Fuck you."

"That's what I thought," he laughed over his shoulder.

Making his way to the large dresser, he opened the top drawer.

"Hey, get out of my drawer!" I shouted at him.

He turned around, quickly, and was clearly not amused.

"Ok, first of all, what did I just tell you about talking?"

My eyes narrowed. I did not like this one little bit. My breathing quickened as my anger flared, which only amused him further.

"Your tits look great when your chest heaves like that," he said, "but I digress. No more fucking talking. You've done quite enough of that lately. And also, I'm pretty curious about what you keep in this little secret drawer of yours."

With that, he pulled the drawer completely out of the dresser and threw it onto the bed next to me. "Let's go through it together, shall we? This will be interesting."

The sense of anger and violation was immense. He folded his arms and surveyed the many items visually, before riffling through it with his hands. I started to speak, but didn't. Which was probably a good thing.

"So," he sighed, "what is my darling, beautiful girlfriend keeping from me? What am I not allowed to see? Oh wow, Jess, you've been holding out on me."

He lifted up various pieces from my lingerie collection; a very tiny teddy made of black lace made his eyes widen.

"I've never seen this on you. Has anyone else?"

"No."

"Good. I might want you to put this on."

I bit my lip, fighting the urge to tell him exactly what I thought of that idea.

"Wow, you have lots of hot stuff in here that I've never seen, huh? Damn. And oh, my goodness. This is how you've been able to last this long without any action, huh?" he asked, holding up one of my expensive glass dildos, "what do you do, wait until I leave the house and then just go to town on yourself?"

I glared at him, not giving an answer. I shrugged. Still defiant.

"That's a question. Answer me when I ask you a goddamn question."

"That's pretty much what I do, yeah," I sighed, then stupidly, I added, "not that it's any of your goddamn business."

Almost immediately, I regretted saying that. He looked at me, blinking, for several moments. He breathed in heavy.

"Stand up," he said.

"What?"

"STAND UP. NOW."

I stared at him blankly, unable to move. He waited for some sort of action, but quickly grew tired of that. He moved swiftly to me and yanked me up off the bed. It wasn't until after he spun me around and I was facing one of the posts on the bed that I heard a pair of metal cuffs clanking in his hand.

Roughly, he lifted my arms. I thrashed around violently, so he grabbed me around my waist and leaned in close to my ear.

"If you keep struggling, this is going to be much, much worse for you," he told me.

There was no emotion in his voice. His tone was firm. And just like that, very much against my will, I was turned on all over again. I stopped wiggling in his arms, and he was then easily able to cuff my wrists to the top of the bedpost in front of me.

I hated how it felt. And loved it, simultaneously.

"That's better," he said, before kissing me on the cheek.

He briefly surveyed his work, after he had me secured in place. Then, he moved behind me. He rubbed his hands up and down my hips, then slapped my ass, hard, so that I jumped up.

"God, that's fun!" he exclaimed, like an excited little kid, before slapping my ass again even harder.

I rolled my eyes, then started to carefully attempt to step out of my heels.

"Ah, I'm sorry?" he asked after clearing his throat, "did I tell you that you could take your shoes off?"

"No. You didn't," I stated, through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw.

"They're staying on then, sweetness."

And with that, he started pulling my dress up with both his hands; when my ass and half my back was exposed to him, he leaned down and started kissing and licking my bare skin. His lips and tongue had never felt so good.

He moved around in front of me, and I saw how big the smile on his face was. His eager hands moved to my breasts, which are a nice handful; he cupped them.

"I love these so much," he said, "and you never let me play with them anymore."

My breathing quickened again as he started circling his middle fingers around each nipple, lightly teasing.

"You can't really stop me though now, can you?" he added with a mean chuckle.

He pulled my D-cups out of my dress and exposed them.

"I knew you weren't wearing a bra tonight," he said, amazed, looking at my tits, "I'd think you get enough attention, but apparently not, huh? Gotta leave the house with huge tits and no bra. Such a slutty thing to do."

My nipples grew hard, and I shivered.

"Tyler, it's freezing in here."

"You'll warm up pretty quick, don't worry about it. And keep your fucking mouth shut."

"Just turn the fireplace on or something!"

He moved around behind me and kissed the back of my right shoulder tenderly.

"You're the one handcuffed to the bed, angel-face. Just to remind you. I'm the one in charge. Don't give me any more orders."

His hand struck my ass again, and this time he hit me with full force. My entire body tingled, with a concentration of warmth and electricity in my pelvis. I moaned. Then, his lips went down to one of my shoulders, where he kissed me gently, then bit down so hard that I cried out. Lifting his head, he rested his chin on my shoulder.

"I'm going to have to gag you with something, aren't I?" he asked, sighing.

"No!"

I heard him undo his belt.

"Well, you have no idea what I'm going to do to you, so how do you know? The neighbors might get kind of pissed," he laughed, and my stomach turned.

That was my first real hint of fear. My boyfriend had lost his fucking mind. I tried to turn my head.

"What are you doing? Stop!"

His hands stopped moving, briefly; then, he let out a low chuckle as he finished sliding the belt out of the loops on his jeans.

"Oh, my bad. You think I'm going to fuck you right now?"

Taking the belt in his hands, he folded it and slapped it a few times, then moved towards me and pressed the leather into my ass.

"You know, Jess, the fact that you think you'd be getting that right now just shows how fucking spoiled you really are."

And the next thing I knew, I was screaming in pain, because he beat the belt into my ass with full-force before I could prepare myself. I couldn't even be "doubled-over" in pain, because my wrists were cuffed up to the top of the bed post. So I just sort of hung there, until Tyler unlocked the handcuffs and put me on the bed.

Between the fear and the pain on my ass and wrists, I had tears on my face. But before I could do anything or even know what was going on, he cuffed me again. I found myself in a different position, but still handcuffed to the bedpost: In a doggstyle position this time, on my knees.

"This'll be more comfy for you," Tyler said sweetly, as he rubbed my reddened ass, "but I need to get something to shove in that pretty mouth of yours."

"Don't you dare," I told him, my voice full of fear and shaking, "I'm going to start screaming right now for help if you don't stop what you're doing."

He moved over to me and kissed me wildly. Pulling away, he looked into my eyes.

"You aren't going to do that," he told me, his voice brimming with confidence.

"Oh, I'm going to."

"No. You won't. Because you want this."

"Like hell I do. Fuck you, get away from me."

"Alright. Fine. Have it your way."¬

And with that, he placed his belt on the bed, and left the room.

"Tyler, get back here! You can't leave me handcuffed to the bed!"

"Watch me."

I woke up lying on my stomach, my ass searing in pain. Thinking for a moment, hopefully (but wrongly), that it had all been a dream, seeing the handcuffs still locked around my wrists reminded me of the truth. Turning my head, I was able to see the clock on one of the nightstands. It was three in the morning.