Give Her Enough Rope Pt 06

I'm not a morning person at all. Ever. I barely consider myself human until after a couple of espressos. But when I woke the next morning with Jake's hand clasped at my nape, firmly guiding my head to his morning erection, I slid from sleep right into arousal. Without thought or protest I opened my mouth and drowsily began to nurse his cock. Jake settled back on his pillow with a contented sigh. "Take it slow," he murmured, "there's no rush."

"Mmmmm," I said in lieu of a reply. I was delighted to have him in my mouth again. I got his cock nice and wet, then slowly slid it out of my mouth until only the tip was inside. I sucked on it gently, tonguing the ridge, while running one hand over his shaft, feeling it grow and harden more under my fingers. Compared to some of the other things Jake had required of me, I felt like a relative expert here. As I moved in closer to run my flattened tongue over his balls, my mind replayed images of some of those things that Jake and I had done last night. The memory made my skin flush, made me think it would be difficult to meet his eyes.

So many firsts. Jake had spanked me, bound me and drove me to multiple forced orgasms at his club, then brought me home with him where he'd taken my pussy, then my ass. And even now was preparing to take my mouth, I was sure. He'd said as much last night.

And I'd agreed to spend the entire weekend with him?

Yes, I had. And I was suddenly, uncomfortably, aware of how wet that thought made me. I could tell my thighs were damp. And I wasn't the only one aware of it. Jake's hand pushed between my legs, and I heard his sound of satisfaction. With no additional warm-up he thrust two fingers into my pussy, working them in the same rhythm I was using to take his cock about halfway into my mouth. I started to wonder what Jake's plans for the rest of the day might involve. Various enticing scenarios floated through my mind.

But Jake was becoming more demanding now. I needed to stay in the moment. He eventually wound his fingers through my hair and pulled my head up.

"That's a lovely warm-up, pet. But I think you'll be even more attentive if you're bound and on your knees."

I caught my breath, no hint of sleepiness left. Jake reached into a drawer in his nightstand and pulled out some rope. Of course he would have rope handy. I stifled a small giggle that faded away as he stood. He made no effort to hide his air of command, the rope between his hands. "On the floor. Kneel on the rug, hands behind you."

I hadn't looked to see what time it was, but daylight was streaming in the tall windows. I got into position while he moved behind me, shifting me slightly, then boxing my arms behind my back and tying my wrists. Feeling the rope tighten gave me that slide-y sensation, like a deep sigh or a first kiss, like the world tilting on its access.

Looking up at Jake, now in front of me, only added to that feeling. I had no idea of his age -- at least ten years older than me, at a guess -- but his body was powerful, lean and solid everywhere. He didn't look like a man who worked a desk job, or one who spent a lot of time in the gym. He was just well-muscled from work and being active. I imagined him hauling wood, pipes, bags of concrete at the hardware store. How had I missed seeing him for the past two years? Maybe I needed to make a note to have my distance vision checked.

Jake took a step nearer, and my eyes dropped to his cock. Thick, solid like Jake, still glistening with my saliva. The sight made me eager enough to whine. I'd always liked giving oral sex, but the depth of feeling I experienced now was a revelation. Jake laughed at the sound and beckoned me closer.

I carefully navigated the remaining distance between us on my knees, mindful of my balance. He put his hand down, fed his cock into my open mouth, let me swirl my tongue around him for a moment or two, then pushed to the back of my throat. Somehow, I knew that in his mind, this was about possessing all of me.

I tried to imagine myself as he must see me: naked at his knees. Then I realized I didn't need to imagine it -- there was a large mirror on the wall opposite the windows. And Jake had thoughtfully shifted our positions so that both of us were reflected in profile. I allowed myself only a quick glance, but it was enough to see the truth of it. I saw a Master, in command of himself and of me.

And what did that make me, I wondered. In truth, the image shocked me a bit -- seeing myself so seemingly pliant and submissive. Just as I was about to look away, our eyes met in the mirror. I couldn't read what was in his, but he reached out a hand to turn my head back to him. "Eyes on me," he said, chiding me with that careless authority, "The mirror is for my pleasure."

He allowed me to tease his cock a little longer, but then he made it clear that he would drive things, holding me still with hands cupped around my head. Yes, this would be for him and about him; there was no consideration of my desires. And even that thought aroused me, god help me, making me sink into a hazy space where all I wanted was what he wanted.

He pumped into my mouth, pushing to my limit, careful not to thrust too fast. I adjusted my breathing as best I could. His eyes stayed locked on mine, his roughened voice floating over me, "You're such a good girl for me, aren't you, pet? You take my cock so well. Fuck, you're good at this. And it's got your pussy all wet." His words and the sounds we made as he fucked my mouth had me moaning for more. God, I almost felt I could come from it.

His thrusts grew more erratic. Then he pushed farther than before, into my throat. I barely managed not to gag, even when he did it again, then again, pausing each time. His cock jerked and began spilling cum, filling my mouth. I swallowed rapidly, not wanting it to overflow my mouth.

My jaw ached, but I held his cock in my mouth until he stepped back. I lowered my eyes, needing to break away from his relentless gaze. We were both silent for a moment. I was tempted to look in that mirror again, but I remained still. Jake didn't give me an easy out. No time to mend the defenses he'd just broken through. He brought my head back up. Looking at me fiercely, he asked "Who does your mouth belong to? Answer me."

I took a shaky breath, still a little dazed, and answered without thinking, "To you, Sir."

"And your pussy and ass, who do they belong to?"

"They belong to you, Sir. All of me. It all belongs to you." My voice broke. I pulled at the rope around my wrists, wanting my arms freed so I could wrap them around his legs. I felt tears welling up again. Suddenly it was all too much. I was suffocating from so much...feeling.

"Jake," I gasped. "Untie me...I can't breathe."

He quickly removed the rope and lifted me to my feet. My body sagged into his arms, and we ended up on the bed. Jake held me on his lap, rubbing my back, commanding me to breathe with him. The moment passed quickly, but it halted the freefall of something inside me that had been careening mindlessly down the path Jake had revealed.

I jumped to my feet, surprising Jake, who would have restrained me had he anticipated it. I wanted to put on some clothes, put some distance between us so I could think. I looked around for my overnight bag, but Jake must have left it in the living area. I didn't really want to put on the clothes I'd worn last night, but instinct drove me. I needed to cover my body.

Jake stood up and crossed his arms as I pulled my tee over my head. He looked slightly amused but also curious. "What are you doing, pet?"

As my face emerged, I said, "Jake, it's too much. I need some space. And time. You're pushing me too fast." It sounded reasonable as I said it. I hoped Jake would see it that way as well. My experience so far had been that he was a reasonable man. Most of the time.

His face didn't change and neither did his voice. Yet I could feel the Dom come to the fore again. "Are you planning to use your safe word? Because if not, you do not have permission to get dressed."

I stopped, stymied. I didn't want to call a halt to things, but despite my brain yelling at me to keep moving, I couldn't force myself to continue getting dressed. I flopped down on the bed, at a safe distance from Jake, and glared at him.

"Keep that up," he said grimly, "and I will wear your ass out."

My gasp was audible. When I replied, my voice shook. "Jake...Sir...please. I don't want to safeword. But I feel like I'm drowning in all this. I need a little time and space to process everything."

He sat down next to me, far enough away that I didn't feel overwhelmed. His voice was calm, but he wasn't giving an inch. "No. That's exactly what you don't need. I planned for us to spend the whole weekend together for a reason. You need to be submerged in it. You're too used to rationalizing everything, thinking too much. I want you to just

feel

. Feel until you can't deny what all this is to you. If I let you go, you'll think your way out of it."

What he said held some validity; I recognized that. But having been pushed so far, I had a visceral need to dig in my heels and resist. The reality of what I'd seen in the mirror was too much, too scary to accept all at once.

"How can you say that? You think you know me after less than a week?" While my words were meant to be challenging, my voice came out sounding small and uncertain.

Jake's eyes burned with feeling. He reached out a hand, circled my neck with it. "I know you. Maybe not all of you, but I recognize this in you, this need." His hand tightened slightly. "Feel that? Feel how your heart is speeding, your breath coming faster? You respond that way every time I command you. Every time I restrain you." He paused for a moment while I felt the truth of it. Then, without moving his hand from my throat he said, "Spread your legs."

As if I had no choice, I slid them apart. His other hand roughly went there, pushed inside me, came out wet. "And this," he continued. "You're as wet as an overripe peach when you're under my control. That hasn't happened to you with other men. Other lovers. Why do you think that is, pet? Be honest with yourself."

I shook my head helplessly. "I don't know, Jake. Not fully. I wanted to just...see what this was all about. I don't want it to...it can't...consume my life."

He gave a short laugh. "It doesn't have to consume your life. But you need to stop living in denial. You've already admitted your current life isn't making you happy, isn't fulfilling, at least as far as sex goes. And it goes deeper than that, doesn't it? I could see that need in you...I've seen it for a long time. When I touched you -- unwrapped that chain from your wrist -- and when I saw how you responded to me..." his voice trailed off.

I put my shaking hand on his forearm. "There's a difference between having a blanket wrapped around you comfortingly and being smothered by it. I'm feeling smothered right now, Jake."

He looked at me searchingly, but the honest anxiety in my eyes somehow convinced him. He shrugged. "Okay, I get it. But don't go home unless you really think it's the only way. Instead, go take a shower, get dressed. We'll go out and get some breakfast somewhere where I have to behave myself. And we'll talk. Will that help?"

Already my panic was ebbing. I checked in with my feelings and realized I didn't really want to go home, I just wanted a little breathing space. There was something in the way Jake so clearly didn't want me to leave that rubbed up against those feelings I had inside me, the ones I'd been trying to ignore. Somehow, we needed to get this sorted. I needed to be able to get my balance without feeling knocked sideways with every step.

I nodded and smiled tentatively. "Thank you. I-I think it will help. I'm willing to try."

He stood and dropped a kiss on my head, "Good girl. Go hop in the shower. I'll bring your bag in and then leave you in peace. For now." His sizzling look made me realize my reprieve would be temporary.

Half an hour later we were seated in the local breakfast hangout, an honest-to-goodness Southern diner. The place had been there forever according to the yellowing newspaper write-ups framed on the wall. The grease on the big flat top griddle was probably older than I was. It was full by late morning on a Saturday. There were families, college kids from the nearby university, and couples young and old.

Jake and I had to take a small booth, so that we faced each other. I was pretty sure Jake would have preferred me next to him, but once seated he'd wasted no time capturing my leg between his under the table. Now he was busy demolishing his full breakfast combo, complete with bacon, eggs, hash browns and biscuits with gravy. Meanwhile I picked at my yogurt and fruit.

Between bites, Jake gave me a wolfish smile and said, "So...you think I don't know you. Help me out then, give me the brief history. And not the same one you use on vanilla dates."

I swallowed my bite and took a sip of the sinful cappuccino. "Well...I moved here about three and a half years ago, after a bad divorce." I made a face, "I wanted to put some distance between me and the ex; I guess six states was about enough."

"Why here?" Jake asked, not laughing at my weak joke. His body leaned in, and his face was completely focused on what I was saying. It was flattering, but it made me feel a bit tongue-tied.

"I went to university here, loved the area. And I had a great job offer. A good friend lived here too, which helped me make up my mind. But she got married and moved elsewhere a couple of years ago. That was about the same time I bought the loft here in town."

I paused, not sure exactly what else he wanted to hear. After a moment I plunged in. "I guess I've always thought I might be...submissive. At least, once I found out what that was. I've always had feelings...longings...in that direction."

He gave me a solemn wink. "Fantasies of pirates tying you up? Having their wicked way with you?"

It made me laugh. "Something like that. I think it was cowboys for me, not pirates. Or just...men, looking at me, while I was tied down in my bed." I shrugged, trying not to blush. "As a young teen I got a job in the local library, shelving books. I discovered 'The Story of O' and then Nancy Friday."

I paused again, thinking back to the awkward nerdy teen I'd been at the time. "A friend of mine -- my best friend, actually -- had a sister in college who passed on some erotic novels, the Sleeping Beauty trilogy. They made the rounds of our group. Most of the girls just giggled or were a bit horrified. But I...well, my response was very different."

Jake's knees pressed my leg even as he smiled. "I know those books," he responded. "Classics. So you started to realize..."

I nodded. To avoid looking at him, I busied myself eating a chunk of melon. Then I said, "My parents were pretty strict. I didn't have access to things like internet porn until I was in college. By then I was already conditioned to be a nice, Southern girl. Submissive in a sense, but not in the sense that I...well, that I craved."

Jake had finished eating. He reached out a hand and put it over mine. "Sexually submissive," he clarified. "Tell me more."

I sighed, "In college I went from kind of nerdy to...popular. It was strange. I had several boyfriends. Lost my virginity. Once or twice, with guys who seemed more open to it, I tried to...I don't know...hint at some different options. But none of them were interested. In fact one of them was pretty freaked out. Like 'nice girls don't want that' kind of freaked out."

I bit my lip. That still stung. Giving myself a mental shake, I got on with it, wanting to be done. "I ended up marrying one of those guys. One of the slightly more adventurous ones. I thought that might be...enough. He turned out not to be dominant though. Just...a bit of a bully. I stuck it out for seven years, then ran."

He gave me a level look, but didn't pursue it. Instead, he turned my hand over and rubbed my palm with his thumb, saying, "You never explored your submission until now?"

I shook my head. The first two years after the divorce I'd been too numb. And since then, honestly, I'd sort of given up on it. Until recently. I found myself blurting out, "My father died unexpectedly about three months ago. That led to a lot of thinking. Soul-searching. I vowed not to let my fear of the unknown hold me back anymore. But figuring out how to get started has been a bit harder than I expected. I was too nervous to just go to a club on my own."

Jake nodded. "Hence the visit to my store for rope. I figured it was something like that." He looked down, continuing to caress my palm, then said carefully, "And in your mind, where did you see things going, once you started to explore?"

I shrugged helplessly. "I'm not sure, Jake. I meant it when I said that I really don't know enough to...to make decisions. Or even know what my options are. I mean, yeah, I've spent time online -- on the recommended websites and even the not recommended ones... But it's hard to know what's real and what's just bullshit."

He smiled ruefully, "That's true enough. But I sense that there's still a sort of push-pull in you. A resistance, maybe, to accepting what you really are. What you want. Am I off base?"

I pushed my plate away. "I don't know. Maybe," I sighed. "I don't think you're entirely wrong."

Jake picked up my discarded spoon and scooped up some of the yogurt, raising it to my lips. "Eat," he said, in no uncertain terms. Obediently I opened my mouth, took the proffered bite. Then I blushed as I realized how he had neatly underlined his point.

"Jake," I remonstrated, "That's not fair." He put the spoon down and leaned back with a satisfied look, crossing his arms.

I wanted to be mad at him, but he was frustratingly right in his reading of me. I'd wanted to submit, yes. However, the depth of that feeling, the way I'd experienced it with Jake in the last 24 hours, scared me. It was too much, too intense. I had to keep thinking of it as an isolated event, an interesting, time-limited experiment. It couldn't be real life.

I took a deep breath, closed my eyes for a moment. This was my opportunity to learn, to ask questions. I didn't want to squander it. Looking at Jake, I said, "How do you...balance everything? What part does this have in your life?"

His answer came easily, "For me, it's just who I am. Part of me, like my eye color. I don't advertise it, but I also don't go out of my way to hide it." He leaned closer again. "It doesn't consume my life, as you put it. But it does inform the things I do, the way I choose to live. The women I'm attracted to..." He gave me a significant look.

I felt a flash of impatience. "It's easier for you," I snapped. "In the world we live in, a dominant man is the ideal. But for me, the expectations at work -- and other places -- well, it's not so easy to be a submissive woman."

Jake's eyes searched mine. "But are you a submissive woman? Or are you a sexual submissive? There's a difference. I doubt anyone where you work considers you a doormat. That's who you are, at work. But in an intimate relationship, it's not what you want...is it?" He reached over and brushed a spot of yogurt from my cheek with his thumb. "It seems to me you've felt very comfortable...no, more than that, very aroused when you're not in control."

I sat in silence, absorbing this. I truly hadn't considered things in that light. I decided to tuck it away, think about it more later. Right now I wanted to follow another track. "So, if it's how I am in an intimate relationship, that still leaves a lot of uncertainty. I guess what I'm trying to ask is..." I bit my lip, then said, "How deep does it go? How deep would you take me, if I was willing? How far? And doesn't that bleed into other areas eventually?"