We had just finished a tour of the local university and were walking home, hand in hand. "What did you think?" Jason asked casually, glancing to the side as a car raced past us on the road.
I hesitated for a moment. My face was apparently thoughtful; Jason squeezed my hand and said, "You don't have to decide now."
Offering him a smile, I blushed a little. "I liked it. I liked it a lot," I confessed. We had met with a counselor for the local graduate school; I had asked him to arrange it so that I could continue my education if I decided to move there-something of which he approved heartily.
"But?" he prodded, releasing my hand to slide his arm around my waist in a protective, possessive fashion. I rested my head against his shoulder awkwardly, somehow managing to not fall as we walked.
I laughed. "How could I ever get anything done around you? I'll always want to be with you."
Jason offered a smile-that cocky, confident smile-and squeezed my waist. "You'll do what I tell you," he said sternly.
"Yes," I said with mock patience and innocence. "But when you want the same thing I want, you couldn't turn me away."
He smirked. "Wanna bet?" I shook my head. "You don't want to disappoint me, do you Jenny? You want to be a good girl for me, don't you?"
I flushed, my step faltering. Damn him; he knew what the words 'good girl', coming from him, did to me. My stomach fluttered and a jet of heat rushed between my legs. "Yes," I gasped.
"Yes what?"
"Yes Sir," I corrected eagerly, wincing as his fingers dug into my hip painfully. "Anh, that hurts!"
"Good," he said simply. "It's almost dinner time. What are you hungry for?"
I looked at him, my dark eyes dancing. "You know what I'm hungry for."
He swatted my behind roughly, then let his hand linger, his fingertips moving to bunch up the skirt until he had the hem. I sighed and glanced around. "Please....what if someone sees?"
"So what if someone sees?" he demanded, turning me to face him. His other hand went to my shoulder. "Then they'll know what a whore you are. What's wrong with that?"
I blushed scarlet but could think of no response.
"Knees," he ordered, exerting the barest of pressure against my shoulder. I dropped to my knees in the gravel by the side of that suburban road and looked up at him. He stroked my hair lightly. "Unzip my pants."
I did as he ordered, stiffening as I heard a car blow past. The breeze ruffled my hair and skirt. Despite myself, I felt aroused, knowing that I was about to please my Master where anyone driving past could see. He let his thumb wander over my cheek, pressing lightly on the bruise. "Get out my dick."
I eagerly reached into his jeans and pulled his cock out through the fly. I moaned absentmindedly, my mouth watering, and leaned forward, my lips parting.
Jason slapped me roughly across the cheek, turning my head towards the road. "Did I fucking tell you to suck it, you stupid slut?" I looked up at him, blushing scarlet, and couldn't find the words to speak. "Are you deaf, whore? Answer me!"
His words shamed me, but worse, they aroused me. I felt my panties soaking against my thighs. "No, but-"
"No 'what'?" he shouted at me, taking a deep breath. I could feel his anger growing.
"No Master," I squealed, realizing the depth of my mistake. "No, no, please, please," I gasped. I didn't realize what I was saying, just hoping to convey my ardent desire to do better. "Please, Sir."
"Please what, whore?"
"Please, please may I suck you?" I asked, staring up at him eagerly in the falling dusk. "Please?"
He smiled. "Give it a little kiss for me," he said, pushing his hips forward. His erection poked me in the cheek. "Kiss it," he ordered sternly.
I moved my head and licked my lips, leaning forward to kiss the head of his cock, my lips pressing against the warm, spongy flesh of his cockhead. I looked up at him timidly and noted that his eyes had closed. I opened my mouth, sliding my wet, warm lips around the head of his member, and-
A searing pain tore through my scalp as he yanked my head back through the hair. "I said kiss it, you stupid slut, can you not follow simple directions?" He slapped me again on the same cheek; my head jerked to the side violently. My pussy burned almost as hot as my cheek. "Put it away."
I gave a pathetic whimper. "But...no, I want to-"
He raised his hand in what I knew would be a vicious backhand, his eyes flaring. "Do what I 'tell' you," he ordered. "I don't remember doing anything to give you the impression I gave a shit what you wanted."
I lowered my gaze instantly, tears of frustration welling in my eyes. God, I wanted him. I wanted to please him, and to taste him, and to swallow every last drop of him. I wanted him so much it hurt.
When I had slid his dick back into his pants and boxers, he yanked me to my feet and pressed me to him in a savage, demanding kiss. He bit my bottom lip roughly and drew back, reaching up to grip my chin roughly, his fingers squeezing painfully. "I don't know why I keep you around, you stupid whore. Let's go."
We walked in silence. I unconsciously moved away from him, a pace to the right and a pace behind him, my arm left arm straight at my side, my right arm crossing my stomach to grip my elbow. Several minutes later I felt Jason's hand on mine.
"I love you Jenny," he said. He raised my hand to his lips. "You'll tell me...I mean, your safeword...in case things ever get too rough? If I hurt you?"
I smiled at him, my throat burning as a lump rose there. "Of course," I said, squeezing his hand.
He hesitated, moving into stride again. "I mean, the words, too. You know I don't think you're stupid," he said.
I nodded. "I know."
"I'd say it were part of our game," he said casually. "But it's not a game, is it?"
"No," I answered truthfully.
"What are you?"
"Your whore," I responded matter-of-factly.
"What am I?" he asked.
"My Master."
"Good girl," he said, squeezing my hand. "That's my good girl."
We had dinner at home, and I washed the dishes while he took care of some work. We talked about everything--families, what we wanted to do with our lives; the things we talked about online, but which held so much more meaning now what we could do it in person.
As we descended to his domain, I asked, "What kind of place do you want to live in?"
"What do you mean?" he asked, moving to sit in his chair. I jokingly called it the throne. I moved to sit next to him on the floor, but he patted his lap.
"Thank you," I murmured, smiling happily as I straddled his lap. My hands rested on his chest. "I meant...house, apartment, condo?"
"House eventually," he said. He leaned his head back on the chair and stared at the ceiling. "I don't mind apartment living in general, but when I have children they'll need someplace to run around."
I was slightly taken aback. Children. The very word struck terror in my heart. "Oh," was all I could muster.
His hands moved from my knees to my hips, pushing my skirt up with them, and then up to my sides. His thumbs played over the flat plane of my stomach. "How many children are you going to give me, Jenny?" he asked seriously.
I'd never thought of it seriously before. I wasn't, in general, a fan of children. And yet, with his hands cradling me this way, so tenderly, I couldn't help but want children with him. And I wanted them now. "Um," I stammered.
"I want two. Two daughters," he said with satisfaction. "Beautiful as their mother," he squeezed me, "but without her awful taste in movies, music, and books." I giggled at the chide. "Sons would be fine, too. But I want a girl."
"I'm afraid of what a girl would do to you," I said, resting my chin against his shoulder. "After her first boyfriend you'd be wanted for murder."
"I'm uniquely qualified to protect my girls from creeps, being one myself, because I know the warning signs." I laughed. "What do you think your father is going to do when you get home with a shiner?"