"Jesus Christ," he cursed and extended his feet to the end of the couch. "Get your fingers out of your fucking pussy. I'm trying to watch something here."
Meredith tried to readjust but could no longer remain on the sofa. "Please," she whined, perching on the upholstered arm like a bird.
James lowered his voice. "Get out of here, slut. I'm not going to say anything else."
Feeling angry and sorry for herself, Meredith retreated to the bedroom.
This submission crap is bullshit, she thought, on the verge of tears. She could take any beating he dished out, but to be brutally ignored was unbearable.
Meredith was fuming by the time she closed the door. Piece of shit bastard. She felt like throwing things.
There are thousands of men who would die for your body. Meredith reassured herself unconvincingly as she stripped off her t-shit in front of the mirror. She studied her figure, skeptical of affirmations prescribed by years of therapy. Sitting down on the bed, she watched herself pull off her pants and then pelted her reflection with two balled-up socks.
Escaping further, Meredith climbed into bed and pulled the comforter over her head. The chilly white bed sheets were usually soothing, but she wished instead for the weight of James' body.
Meredith lectured herself. If you weren't so fucking horny all the time you could have a regular life. It's your own need that gives him the power.
Grrrrrr, she thought with clenched teeth and a wrinkled brow while she rubbed furiously at her pussy.
The tiny stubble gave Meredith a focus. She flipped off the blanket and continued her critical inspection. How dare she try to seduce James when her body was less than perfect? Maybe if she had shaved first he would've paid more attention to her.
But Meredith was a smart girl. She knew her thoughts were ridiculous and self-destructive. Plus, she laughed, picturing James out on the couch in his weekend coma. His face was scratchier than she'd ever be.
He doesn't care about the trouble I go to. She was angry then smug. He doesn't deserve me, she thought, looking into the mirror again. I am way too good for him.
Recharged with attitude, Meredith imagined a new scheme.
This is the fun part, thought Meredith as she climbed out of bed. James was demanding, demeaning, but oh, so good for her. He was an asshole, but he pushed her. Pushed her the way that other boys didn't.
Meredith went to a pile on the floor and found James' thick belt. Grabbing the buckle, she shook it, detaching the pair of jeans that clung by its loops.
A shiver went through her body. Meredith loved that belt. She inhaled and slid the luxurious length across her face.
Mmmm. She kissed it and felt dry emptiness in the back of her throat. I need his cock, she thought. "Please fuck my face," Meredith whispered in rehearsal and then seductively ran the tip of her tongue over her teeth. She was ready for battle.
Even so, standing naked behind the corner doorway, Meredith's nervousness returned. With one eye, she peaked at James and felt grateful to be partially hidden.
Fucking football. She hoped her plan wouldn't backfire. She knew he'd be angry, but she also knew James.
James heard her moving. He closed his eyes to calm down and then ordered himself to stay focused on the television.
Fuck, he thought. She had so much potential. If, and it was a big if, she didn't annoy him to death in the first place. Exasperated, he let out a sigh.
"What?" he shouted, anticipating a request. Meredith was startled. It was now or never.
"Master. . ." she entreated with her eyes respectfully down. Meredith stepped into the empty space. She slid the cold yellow buckle over her face. It was her only protection from his disdainful gaze. With her left hand, Meredith pulled the belt taut between her breasts, over her tiny stomach and then, with a critical twist, between the lips of her pussy.
Fuck, he thought again as he watched her hips buck against the leather. This is what he had to deal with.
James couldn't watch. Jesus, she was such a slut. And it was his own damn fault she was so delicious. He couldn't help feel a little bit of pride.
"You're getting cum all over it." He kept his voice level.
"Please Sir. . ." begged Meredith. "I've been bad. I need to be punished. It's just. . ." her voice was quivering despite how she'd practiced the words earlier. "I wanted you so bad, I couldn't keep my hands off of myself."
"Spare me the details." He said and hit mute on the remote. James was trying to think. "You've ruined this game for me now." A little drama never hurt although he wasn't about to miss the last quarter for anyone.
Meanwhile, she was still fucking his belt. James couldn't help laugh. She was out of control.
"I ought to beat your ass raw." Meredith smiled like he knew she would. "But that's exactly what you want." What she needed was some manners and a little respect. James tried not to look at her. He would not let her manipulate him for attention. "Go put the cuffs on the bed and clean the toilet or something. I'm going to deal with you later."
He had fucked her last night. What more did she want? He'd secured her spread eagle in a doorway, whipped her with a kitchen towel and then fucked her some more. God, he thought, this bitch really was insatiable. Seriously though, he needed some peace.
James turned the volume back up.
Meredith wasn't sure what to feel. She knew she'd gotten to him and yet she knew there was enough cleaning to keep her busy for a long time.
This was when she hated him. She paid her half of the bills and yet she worked twice as hard. Only when he fucked her did she feel fully appreciated.
Well, and then. . . she stopped, smiled, and felt her heart grow rosy. There were those rare times in the dark when they talked seriously. When he was honest with her and he let his guard down. Yes, she thought, she loved him furiously.
And yes, she would do whatever he wanted. But, grrr. . . she growled again in her mind. He made her so angry she wanted to spit.
Meredith pulled on boxers and a sports bra. Hair tied in a knot, she channeled her energy into scrubbing the apartment. She felt like Cinderella. Submissive Cinderella. She chuckled.
I could write that book, she thought. Yes, Meredith smiled, I'm waiting for my night at the ball.
Although . . . It didn't make sense. She'd been with men who treated her like a princess. She was unimpressed with presents and poetry. No, she thought. James was her witch. She had to laugh at the thought of him as a wicked stepsister, but that wasn't right either. No matter how she tried to intellectualize it, she couldn't describe exactly why he did what he did to her. She only knew one thing for certain. His praise, his desire, HE made her high as a kite.
With renewed dedication, Meredith attacked the counters. She would clean the whole place; there'd be nothing left to do. He'd be so impressed, he'd have to think of her. They'd have nothing to do but fuck. Well, fuck and roll around in bed together whispering childishly, teasing, and nibbling on each other.
Her eyes narrowed and her mind became a checklist. Cleaning was cool, she thought. She loved to see her progress. Working out felt tedious but Meredith could break a sweat scrubbing. The tile floor was her true nemesis with its fortified lines of evil nasty mold reinforced through the years by weak tenants. Meredith's determination nullified the sting of chlorine bleach on her knuckles.
James came in to piss and mentally admired her ass before she turned and smiled at him. She did look sweet, down there on her knees.
"That's what I like to see, woman," he said, no longer angry. Meredith playfully kissed his feet but quickly got back to work. She loved knowing that she pleased him, although she also knew that she still had it coming.
James didn't know what to do with her. He went back to the couch distracted. Thoughts of Meredith began to seep in between commercials. Thoughts of her on her knees with her taut little butt stuck out. Thoughts of grabbing that ponytail and pulling her head back surprisingly. Oh she would pay for this, thought James. The little minx would pay.
James considered his options. Spanking was out, definitely too easy. And yet, with the thought, he could feel her wiggling across his lap. Now he was horny. "Fuck," he said out loud. His team was down again and it was her fault.
It had to be something about restraint, a lesson in self-control. James was still proud of his latest variation on the hog tie. She'd made an incredible sight with silvery drool strung from her chin to her chest. Oh yeah, James remembered. Gagging her squashed her feistiness quickly. She'd looked as pitiful as a fly in a huge horror movie web.
But little games were the best: little games where she'd start out proud, with that shit-eating grin. She'd start out so eager, and then he could watch the fight in her face. He would watch her battle her desires until she struggled in that desperate whiney way that made him so fucking hard.
However, he thought, adjusting himself. Meredith loved those too. The harsher the punishment, the more she begged for it. Everything was backwards with this chick and that was starting to piss him off. He was supposed to be the one in charge and yet here she had him racking his brain again.
Let the punishment fit the crime. That's what he needed to think about. What would teach her to back off every once and a while? What would teach her about the right time and the right place and that she wasn't allowed to dictate when they did what?
The handcuffs where already on the bed; he'd checked as he walked by. Should he beat her or tease her? Which would make her more miserable? Definitely tease. That little bullet vibrator made her writhe so violently he swore it had a wire loose.
God, he thought. He'd love to jolt her like some little lab rat. Perfect, James laughed. One of those dog systems with the shock collars. That would keep her out of the living room on Sunday afternoons.
Joking aside, the electric shock kits he'd seen on-line made his stomach roll. Meredith would die at the sight. James wondered if he could really shock her. Would he test it on himself? That thought was not appealing. Like I'd ever have that kind of dough to drop anyway. That whole idea would have to wait.
Anyway, it was all about psychology, James reminded himself. Pain was just the icing on the cake. What he really needed to do was mess with her head.
