"To the one who inspired this: je regrette...et tu me manques...xoxo"
*
I stand in a completely darkened room, arms at my side, hands clasped behind my back. I'm wearing a button down oxford, three sizes too big and given to me by you; and nothing else. By your instructions I am silent; I have only one button on the shirt buttoned; and I am not to resist under any circumstances.
The silence of the room unnerves me. The blackness of the room disorients me.
Finally I hear it -- a soft, scraping noise that tells me that I am not alone in the room. It's absurd, because I know that whoever it turns out to be will be someone that you have chosen, someone that you have allowed access to my body. But I am still nervous. I am more than nervous. I am scared.
The noise comes closer, and I feel the soft rush of air beside me. I can feel the presence of someone, but I can't tell where, or who, or how close.
A gloved hand grabs the back of my neck and pulls me closer. All I hear is an unfamiliar voice.
"Remember your rules."
I nod my assent.
The gloved hand moves from the back of my neck to wrap around the front of my neck. My breath catches.
"Well...let's see what we have here..."
Another hand moves to trace my cheek, pushing the tip of one finger in my mouth. The hand on my neck remains firm. The hand moves from my mouth to my breast, finding my nipple easily, pinching it, twisting it, letting go. I make no noise.
The hand moves lower, feeling the flat of my stomach and moving downward. It brushes my clit, pushes open my lips, and invades me. The other hand moves from my neck downward to my waist, pulling me closer. He presses his body against mine -- he is clothed in a leather jacket with a zipper, which I can feel cold against my skin, and jeans. He seems tall, but I can't tell. I can tell he has a broad chest and powerful arms.
He turns me around so my back is against his stomach, and guides me to the bed. He bends me over halfway and pushes the tail of the shirt high up my back so my ass is uncovered; he touches my unclothed lower half almost tenderly. I tense. I know what comes next. I wait for the strike.
But it doesn't come. I feel fingers push inside me again and hear a low growl of appreciation. So far everything has been easy, and I start to relax.
Until I feel him reach back. I thought he was unzipping his pants to fuck me, but he leans over me and puts his mouth close to my ear.
"Someone said I get to fuck you, any way I want. He said I could do anything to you, and you'd do it, because you obey him."
"So I told him it had always been my fantasy to fuck a girl in a totally darkened room, where she doesn't know what comes next. And he said that would be fine, because you'd been a bit...noncompliant...lately."
He whispered the next part, sinister, sadistic.
"I asked him if anything was off limits, and he said no. Anything goes. How do you like that? Your man fucking handed you over to me and told me I could do anything to you. Anything."
I was shaking because of his words and because I felt something cold and metal being dragged along my side.
"Don't...fucking...move..."
I felt the sharp edge of something on the side of my breast. I tried not to breathe too hard because I was afraid if I did, it would slip and cut me. He had a knife, a fucking knife held to my side. He brought it around and ran the blade across my ass, down the back of my thigh, around to the side, and then held the blade against the base of my breast. I gave a sharp intake of breath.
He drew it to the right and I felt his breath in my ear. His cheek was stubbly and I could feel a scratchy short beard on his chin. It turned me on; my Sir was impeccably clean shaven which I loved, of course, but different was always good.
"I could hurt you so badly, and no one could save you."
Breathing didn't count as making noise. At least that's what I told myself as I allowed myself one long drawn breath.
"The thing is, I could reach down between your legs, and I know you'd be so fucking wet. He told me you loved this. Except he told me I didn't get to actually draw any blood."
He slowly moved the knife away and turned me over and laid me down on the bed. He reached down and freed his cock from his jeans and slid in without a second of hesitation from my body. Damnit, he was right. I was wet. He gave a little half laugh that he had been right and I was almost embarrassed. I relaxed a bit and shifted positions to allow him better entry into me.
"Oh you are too easy..."
He had one hand on my leg and moved it slightly to allow him to penetrate me deeper. The other hand grasped the lapel of my shirt, and with one tug, freed the button easily. His hand pressed down on my chest, working its way back up to my neck, as he moved in and out.
Despite the hand firmly on my throat, I was enjoying this, now that the knife was gone. He felt really good inside me -- nice thick cock, sexy voice; I wondered who it was. I didn't think it was any of our usual friends; My Sir didn't usually let me play with others, he tended towards jealousy on a normal basis and liked to keep me to himself.
I was at a good angle and he was hitting something really nice inside of me -- he was obviously getting ready to finish as well, judging by the noises he was making. Oh, mmmm...I was almost there...
I felt him abruptly pull out of me and a cock was forced into my mouth. I was pretty sure it was my Sir's but he was going at me a lot harder and deeper than he usually did. Finally he stopped, pulled out and whispered in my ear.
