He Taes

She felt the tickle of a moist droplet of sweat glide down her spine as she tossed her long legs over the side of his king sized bed. Gently, so not to wake him, she adjusted the heavy bedspread that wrapped around her life like a cocoon. She was naked and hot and the cover was rough against her delicate skin. She was here again, pleasure in body yet troubled in mind. How does a man have this power over her? She knew she was strong, she could accomplish anything put in front of her, yet she was weakened by his touch, by his voice and by his words. He had promised her gentleness and love but she wondered if it was only to have her once again wrapped within his mind for a moment of pleasure.

Barefoot and tussled long blond hair, she tiptoed to the master bathroom in the shade of the early morning darkness. Another Georgia thunderstorm boomed outside the big windows threatening to break the glass with which it beat upon. The humidity absorbed everything in its grasp and even made the carpet beneath her toes feel moist. She needed to feel the coolness of his shower, to rinse her mind free of his intoxicating smell that lay on her body. It was him that she could smell, a strong musty heat that surrounded her. She remembered looking in his face as he lay on top of her just a few hours before. His sweat dropped from his forehead onto her chest and had chased itself around the outline of her breast. She had moaned lightly, but it was enough to catch his attention. He pushed himself up and looked at her, biting his bottom lip with a look of pure pleasure and pain wrapped around each other. She was confused, she was in love, she was lost, he was so very dangerous for her, and she knew this.

The shower door was opened with a jerk and the light filtered through and touched her skin. "Why in the hell do you think you are allowed to get out of the bed?" he said with stern mixture of anger in his voice. He grabbed her then, and pulled her wet and naked body so abruptly and forcibly that she stumbled out of his shower and onto his chest. "When I bring you here, I expect you to be here when I want you to be. I don't want to wake up and find my cock hard and you not there to pleasure me. Get down on your fucking knees before I..."

She didn't need to hear anymore. He was the same as he had always been, and she knew she was the one to blame for coming back. Why did he have this hold on her, and yet why was she getting warm between her legs as she dropped to her knees and quickly put all of him in her mouth. She did not want him angry or disappointed; she wanted him to be happy no matter how troubled her mind was with whether it was right or wrong.

After his hands had pulled her head tighter into his crotch and his semen had shot hot and syrupy down the back of her throat, he had turned without so much as a thank-you and left her kneeling, alone, on the cold marble of the bathroom floor digesting his essence. She shivered involuntarily not only from the cold air condensing the wetness of her unfinished shower on her lean and muscled body, but from the thought that she had become someone she hardly recognized in many ways. She knew he had finished with her for now and that the worst possible thing she could do was to interrupt his now continued sleep, as although she had not ventured into the bedroom she now knew his pattern – to use her for his pleasure and then to simply walk away as if she no longer existed. How their relationship, and she, had come to this she still could not fathom, as she toweled herself dry and wrapping herself in the bathrobe he had given her slumped to the hard cold floor in a trance like state.

She had known him now for three months, and at first he had seemed like the men who had come before him; not so much physically as he was older, but from the perspective of being attentive, considerate, thoughtful, and a well educated gentlemen. The sort of character traits she'd been brought up to look for in a man and a potential mate. He'd made her grade, and she'd gladly agreed to go out with him that first night when they had met by chance at the cocktail party of a mutual friend. But that was then and this was now and as they say a lot of water had since passed under the bridge. Despite her revulsion at what she had become she was drawn like a moth to his flame, and could only pray that in the end she would not live the fate that had befallen Icarus.

Those first few dates had been pleasant enough, dinners at upscale and elegant restaurants, occasional calls sprinkled with healthy and lustful banter, and the back and forth volleys of email filled with subtle double entendres, which even she had to admit had been a turn-on both to read and to construct in reply.

It was on their third or fourth date, she could no longer remember, that he had taken her home to this house and made love to her for the first time. She remembered that evening as if it had occurred just minutes ago, and despite feeling used from having just serviced him she could feel the dampening between her legs from the memory. What had struck her that first night was the gentleness with which he had caressed her body and the time and attention he had paid to make sure that she was satisfied. It was as if he existed only to give her pleasure, and no man – and she had slept with many – had ever been as attentive a lover to her as he was that night. Oh, how she could only have wished then that this pattern of love-making had continued as that night she had truly felt the way Cinderella must have felt when the glass slipper had been placed upon her foot. He had taken her to a place that no man had ever led her to before, and she had realized on that night that had she gone to her maker she would have felt, and did feel, totally fulfilled as a woman for the first time in her life. After that night she nervously awaited his next contact hoping against hope that he would take her to his bed again and again and again.

Looking back, with the advantage of perfect hindsight, she now realized that he had broken her like a skillful trainer breaks and trains a racehorse. Over the next month she began sleeping with him two or three nights a week, and gradually and imperceptibly at first he started to be rougher with her, but in a way that felt natural to her and seamless in its transition. No longer was he the gentle lover, although she had to admit he was still attentive and she was still experiencing the same four or five orgasms every night. It was just as if something had changed. Some slight tipping of the scales. The gradual transition of power, if that was the word, so that the equilibrium of a relationship built between equals had now shifted to one where even she had to admit he held all the power and she none, for she had become addicted to being in his bed and being made to feel safe in his arms. She still worked at the same job and still saw the same circle of friends that she had before he had come into her life, but now; well now somehow it just was altogether different.

She remembered the day clearly when she had forever crossed the line and left the world she had known and become his. He had emailed her just as she was leaving work and said he wanted to see her. Like the puppy dog she had become she had replied that she was on her way and arrived at his house as the warm Georgia sun was fading into the summer sky. Normally when she reached his house she would ring the bell as she'd not been given a key, but tonight was different. Tonight taped to the door which he had left ajar was an envelope with her name written on it in his elegant scrawl. Inside a note simply said, "I've had to go out. A bath is drawn for you in the master bathroom and a glass of wine and blindfold are on the table next to the tub. Relax in your bath with the blindfold on and enjoy your wine. When I return I will join you but you are to say nothing and make no sound."

She had as she had been instructed made her way through the silent house and entered what she discovered to be a candle lit bathroom within which soothing classical music was playing softly. Stripping naked in the soft glow of the candlelight she had placed the blindfold over her eyes and slipped into the deep moist heat of the awaiting tub. Leaning back with her head against the cool marble of the tub she had let the warmth of the water work its way into and sooth her tired muscles while she sipped at the glass of red wine she had found there and her mind floated freely accompanying the gentle melody of the music. Time had seemed to stand still for what she could only believe was a brief eternity and she realized she must have dozed off as he had entered the bathroom unbeknownst to her.

She knew he was there as she could feel his presence and she recognized that the wine glass was no longer in her hand. Yet despite the knowledge that he was watching her, she remained silent as his note had instructed wondering what he would do.

That puzzlement was quickly resolved as he began to wash her gently with a soapy washcloth spending care and attention to bathe her as completely as if she were but a young baby. When he finished washing her back and her arms and breasts and belly, he'd moved gently to wash her bottom and her vagina and legs, but despite never once having touched her in a sexual manner during this whole process she could feel the building of a need deep between her legs. He then shampooed her hair as if he had in some former life been a beautician, and then took his finger and as he gently opened her mouth she felt, for the first time in her life, someone – him – brushing her teeth for her.

When he was done he slipped his hand under her elbow and lifted her to the standing position as she heard and felt the water draining from her tub. He toweled her dry so tenderly and gently that it was as if angel's wings had overseen her final cleansing. He helped her from the tub still blindfolded and naked and led her by the elbow to the side of his bed where he pushed her down by the shoulder still having made no sound so that she was sitting on the edge of the bed. After perhaps a minute had passed he placed a box into her lap and took her hands and guided them to the bow in the center of the top.

Sightless she pulled at the bow until it was untied and opened the top of the box feeling inside to see what surprise he had bought for her. While her hands could feel cool metal and silky connections she could not discern what they meant. He placed her hands by her side and took the box from her lap. She heard the small sounds of something metallic she could not recognize and then silence. With one hand he pulled the back of her head towards him and with the other he slipped what felt to be a crown on top of and then over her head. Suddenly and still blindfolded she felt cool metal on the back of her neck and collarbone and then as she sat still uncomprehending she felt his hands move quickly to her chest where what seemed to be a silken cord dangled and which she felt him hold and pull like she had seen him and other men before him tighten their ties by adjusting their knots. In one fluid motion the cool metal that had laid on her collarbone seemingly compressed and in that instant she realized that he had placed and closed some form of collar around her neck which while not choking her or uncomfortable in the slightest clearly was now securely locked around her neck. Now in shocked silence trying to register the meaning of this act, she sat as he repeated his performance on her slipping and then tightening identically feeling, but smaller, bracelets around both of her wrists. Again with the tying of the tie motion on what she now realized were slipknots both bracelets locked into place once again with heavy silken cords left dangling.

Again he placed his hand under her elbow and still blindfolded and silent he led her out of his bedroom and into his study seating her through his motions in his desk chair. Silently but suddenly he took first one wrist and then the other and tied the dangling silken cords which extended from her bracelets to the arms of the desk chair so that, for the first time in her life, she found herself tied to an object and unable to get up. He then seemingly disappeared and while she could hear slight background noises indicating his presence from time to time she sat there in her nakedness with her mind racing trying to figure out what he had in mind for her next. She did not have to wait long however as when he returned he pushed a finger into her mouth and pried it open. Then he literally fed her his cock and forced her for what could have been no less than two hours to suck it while periodically he would withdraw it and give her, while gently holding her chin slightly elevated, sips of water, only to replace the coolness of the water with the heat and girth of his cock once again. As time marched on in a seemingly endless continuum of force-fed gagging and brief water-cooled rests, she was fed more cock than she believed she had ever sucked with all the men and in all the years since she had first learned how. Then after what seemed like hours had passed, and which in fact they had, his semen burst into her throat and he was spent; as she had been spent hours ago from her force-feeding.

Untying her he led her back into his bedroom and sat her once again on the edge of his bed only this time at the foot as they had made a wide berth of it when entering the room. She felt him leave her and could hear him get into the bed beneath the covers she had grown so used to. As she felt his feet stretch towards her from under the covers she heard him turn off the bedside lamp and for the first time that evening heard him speak as he said, "I have laid a pillow and blanket on the floor next to me. You are to crawl there and sleep on your pallet without a sound and with your blindfold on. If during the night I want to use your body I will pull the cord attached to the collar around your neck and you will without hesitation or sound come to me to continue your cock sucking lessons. From tonight on you will sleep on your pallet until I determine you worthy to be allowed back into my bed."

She slid her slender fingers through her hair and let her hand glide down her neck and onto the floor where she sat. Gently, she pushed herself to a standing position and took a deep breath. It was time to leave, and as angry as he might be when he woke and realized she had left, it did not stop the overwhelming anxiety that raced through her veins and made her now search out some type of normality, or at least what she remembered to be normal. Shutting the lights off, she pulled the bathroom door open just enough to sneak through the opening and search for her clothing within his bedroom. She could hear the recognizable rhythmic breathing and knew he was fast asleep. She could do this; if she could only stop her heart from beating so rapidly within her chest, she was certain she could get out of here, away from his grasp and, more certainly, away from her humiliation. She knew she was stronger than this. It was time to flip the switch back on in her mind and in her life and get back to the conservative actions she knew to be what others expected from her. What if her friends found out about this side of her? She could not even consider the thought. How had she let it get this far?

She was unsuccessful in finding her clothing. An uneasy thought told her he had put them in a place she would not be able to find. Did he know she was going to try and run? Of course he did, he knew everything about her. No. That was silly. Not this time she told herself, it was time to take back her power and show him that she was the only one who owned her. She tiptoed into his closet. There was a large dresser on the back wall. Slowly she pulled open the third drawer from the top and searched inside until she found the familiar rough denim of his blue jeans. She pushed her naked feet into the pants and pulled the waist up and over her bare bottom. She was too slender to make any sort of position within his jeans, but they would have to serve their purpose for now. She rolled the waist band down around her lean hips, and pulled a soft thin cotton t-shirt over her head and around her naked breasts. She was almost there.

Next was her car. She had no idea how she would make it out if his driveway without waking him by turning the ignition over in her Jeep, but at that point, he would not be able to stop her. The car roared to life and she quickly switched the gear into reverse and scrambled out of his driveway. She was now free and this time it was her choice to leave, she was strong after all. That was, until she reached the stop sign at the end of his street.

She grasped the steering wheel and watched her fingers turn white from the death grip that she had fastened tightly around it. The pounding in her chest was so fierce it made her throat beat along to its rhythm. No...she was not going back. It was okay, she was away from him now, she had made the choice to leave and she knew it was what she was supposed to do in this situation. No man, no one, was allowed to humiliate and control her in such away that she was powerless and weak as he had done and continued to do. Yet, her foot went limp and would not press the gas peddle. She laid her head on the steering wheel and began to cry. How can he do this to her?

Eventually, fearful of the consequences of her action and against her better judgment, she turned the car around and drove it back to his familiar driveway. The sun had just begun its journey above the treetops, and when she opened the car door she heard the faint rustling of the robins announcing that morning had begun. Maybe he was still asleep and she could quietly crawl back to where he expected her to be, never to know her act of defiant independence was just an act entirely. It was evident to her now no matter how much her intellect disagreed that she belonged to him and he owned her body and soul.