After Sally got back home, she dropped everything and plopped down on her bed, completely and utterly exhausted.
Her phone beeped. Another text message, this time from Mr. BDSM; she still had the taste of his cum in her mouth.
Although she had spent a good amount of time wiping up the semen he had shot into her, still traces of BDSM's load could be found on her tongue, face, tits, and God knows where else.
BDSM's text included praise, as well as instructions, delivered in his own concise way.
"You weren't kidding when you said you loved cock.
That was some amazing head you gave. Next time, I'll
blindfold you and tie your hands behind your back. Then
we'll see if your sucking skills hold up under restraint.
What's more, I'll use my floggers on you, and see if your
sharp tongue is as brave when you're begging for mercy.
Oh, I almost forgot. Now that I know your dress size,
I'll pick out some Sub attire, which you will wear for me
with complete obedience. I want you to prance around
my Playroom in all kinds of garb, while I'm free to stroke
myself. By the way, I expect you to be completely
exclusive to me. --Dom"
Sally didn't reply to his message. Instead, she gathered her toiletries, towel, and bathrobe, and proceeded to walk down the hall. She couldn't wait to take a long hot shower.
She ran into Vincent.
"Shit." Things were extremely awkward between them, ever since she told him to fuck off when he made futile efforts to dissuade her from seeing Damian. Lately, when they crossed paths in the house, she averted her eyes and just walked past him.
Under her breath, she asked herself, "How much longer do I have to face his sorry ass? I can't believe I used to have a crush on him. I would have been long gone by now, if it weren't for the cash I blew on Young Green Eyes."
Back in his room, Vincent was trying to figure out what the hell Sally had been up to lately. He wondered why her middle of the night "outings" had stopped so suddenly. At that instant, he recalled an especially hot sizzling encounter he was privileged to have witnessed a few months ago. Sally was taking it up the ass from her lover, begging for him to shove it deeper inside her tight little hole. The broken down vagabond towered over her, pounding her incessantly from behind, and all the while Sally was screaming her fucking head off.
At that point, Vincent's cock began to harden up...
Sally turned on the faucet to start the hot shower she desperately needed. She had to wash out her mouth and pussy, what with all the sticky and crusty stuff resulting from her first encounter with BDSM.
In the steamy shower, the strong water beating down on her head and small body had served its purpose: to relax her muscles and soften her skin. Half and hour later, she was calm and subdued, and glowing. She walked back to her room.
As she dried her hair and got ready for bed, Sally heaved a sigh of relief. She could finally rest assured that she would now have somewhere to go; somewhere to go to get some serious dick.
Instead of hopping right into bed, she knelt down beside it and clasped her hands together. She would thank the Lord for sending her Mr. BDSM. Maybe now her insomnia would become a thing of the past, and she could at last enjoy some pleasant dreams. She could only hope.
Sally had no problem knocking out as soon as her head hit the pillow, in no time entering REM sleep...
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
He had insisted on interrogating her again. The judgment in his voice was palpable, and it cut rather sharp and deep. Try though she might each time, however, Sally could not escape his confrontations.
"Why don't you just go to bars? That's how girls usually score a hook up. They sit and wait for guys to buy them drinks. They don't go scouring filthy alleys for cock."
"I HAVE been to bars, like when I was still in college. But I'm not pretty, and I'm not good at small talk. I don't know how to have a regular conversation. For me it's tricky relating to normal guys. Almost one hundred percent of the time, I just sit there like a fool, uncomfortable, while my friends are getting play from all directions. The few guys who DO ever approach me don't buy me drinks. They just feed me cheesy pick up lines, ones they've already tried on every other girl. I'm their sloppy seconds. Besides, I'm not anywhere attracted to these guys. No, Vincent. Bars don't work for girls like me."
"Then you could sign up for a normal dating site and..."
She cut him off, "I've heard about those dating sites", she said, aggravated. "Why should I go through all the trouble, money, and rejection, when I can go directly to the streets and find a guy there? In a dirty alley, the man I approach always lets me suck on him, and I don't have to say a word."
"No words?"
"No, I just walk down a dark smelly alley, and check out the guys. When I come across one in my path, that is, one I like, I look him straight in the eye. That way I could tell whether or not he would let me suck. His eyes would tell me. He wouldn't have to say a word."
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Sally bolted awake.
Damn it! Why couldn't she have a nice dream for a change?
In the dark, she reached for her phone to check the time.
3:30 a.m.
Just as she thought, smack in the middle of the night. Again.
For the life of her, Sally never managed to sleep a full eight hours.
While checking her phone, she noticed a new message.
After having received no word from Sally, Sebastian took the bull by the horns. Asserting himself, he wasn't afraid to sound adamant.
"Sally, I'm writing again to say 'Hi'; as a friend. The least you could do is show me the courtesy of replying to let me know you're okay."
Suddenly, she felt bad for having ignored him.
"I'm okay", she wrote back.
He finally wore her down.
She was surprised to receive another message from him right after.
