Playing with My Songbird

~As per request, how they met~

It was fucking humiliating, walking into a first-year biology class as a junior. I was the oldest in the room and I could feel the judgemental eyes of the freshmen and the bio professor who knew me much too well.

I really tried freshman year, being the first in my family to attend college. I wanted to be an architect. I did well in all my math-related courses, but I failed my humanities course and General Biology. I managed to pass a Philosophy class last year, and now, to get back on track, I needed to pass the dreaded Biology.

But my classes were already impossible enough: the architecture track proving to be more and more difficult every year. I couldn't understand why biology was a required course, as it had nothing to do with my major. I hated the subject with a passion and now it would make or break me. If I had a failing grade at semester, I would be expected to drop the class and extend my studies to five years. I had no support from my family and I couldn't imagine being able to afford an additional year's tuition. Failing would mean abandoning my studies and wasting years of hard work.

I spent that semester working as hard as I possibly could. I stayed up all night working, I denied myself meals until I'd finished studying. I dreaded biology so much that sometimes I'd stop in the restroom to throw up before class started. Every lab, every exam, every stupid little paper was crucial. After my 21st birthday, I started drinking before class to ease the anxiety, which just made focusing even harder. It made every class harder. I looked at the freshmen in contempt. Why was it so easy for them? I wasn't stupid, I just hated fucking bio.

One freshman in particular pissed me off. He was a little teacher's pet and such a show-off. On the day of the semester final, he showed up fresh as a daisy and entirely prepared. He even straightened his perfect little pencils out in a row on the table. He finished the test before anyone else in the class did, sat up tall, and smiled at the professor.

I, on the other hand, was hungover and had a horrible burning in my throat having just thrown up. I was barely passing the class. If I did poorly on the final, I was toast. I tried as hard as I could to focus, but my vision seemed to blur and my head pounded. I turned in the test after agonizing over it, and then left the room to go throw up again.

Of course, it was all for nothing. I failed the final, and I dropped out of college. I was in debt, I was depressed, and I had nowhere to go. My drinking habit got worse.

One day, when I was sitting at a bar counter, I felt someone tap my shoulder. I turned around, and to my horror, it was the little teacher's pet from Biology.

"Hi," he said smiling. "You're in my bio class, aren't you?"

"Not anymore, asshole," I snapped, sounding much meaner than intended. "I failed out of fucking bio. I'm a fucking moron." To my horror, I felt tears beginning to trickle down my cheeks. I was crying in a bar in front of this stranger. To my surprise, he hugged me.

My instinct was to shove him off me and cuss him out again. What kind of creep hugs strange girls in bars? But I looked at him, and I saw how small he was, how soft he looked. His hug was gentle and respectful and brief. He pulled back and I saw he was crying too. He wiped his eyes, sniffed, and said, "sorry, it's been a hard week. And I really didn't mean to upset you. I didn't know."

I was stunned for a bit, and we sat in silence. I looked over and studied his face a bit. He was cute. His face was spattered with dark freckles on olive skin. His chocolate brown hair was clean cut but it had a playful bounce to it. I noticed he was humming a song to himself. When he caught me staring at him, he innocently smiled. I blushed.

"Wait a minute," I said. "You're not 21 yet, right? There's no way-"

He cut me off with a "shh" and a devilish smile.

"I needed a drink," he said. "Usually I can get a guy to buy me one. Bars are flooded with all kinds of horny creeps."

Bluntly, I asked, "Ah, so you're gay then?" Immediately I blushed, not really having meant to have wondered that aloud.

The boy looked at me, seemingly amused. "I don't know what I am," he said. "But I wouldn't mind a drink with you."

I chuckled, charmed by his cleverness. "Yeah, I'll buy you a drink," I said, before ordering us two Shirley Temples.

"Those aren't alcoholic," he retorted.

"I know," I said. "I've been drinking too much lately. I should stop before it becomes an addiction."

"Honestly, I'm worried about myself, too," he said. "I need to stop going to bars. I could get in trouble, lose my scholarship... one of these creepy guys might take it too far one day. I just needed some escape, I guess. I'm not welcome back home since my mom discovered I dated a guy for a few months. And I know they'd completely disown me if they found out I stopped going to church. I don't know where I stand with my faith or sexuality. I don't know where I belong."

I sipped my Shirley Temple and listened intently. I had no idea that the genius from Biology who seemed so perfect and happy was actually dealing with so much. After thinking for a while, I came up with an idea.

"You know," I said, "it's only seven. Let's both get out of this bar and go do something. Go for a walk, see a movie, get something to eat.. anything."

"That kind of sounds like a date," the boy said, smirking.

"Well, do you want it to be?" I asked cautiously.

"Yes," he replied, "I think I'd like that."

"The only problem is, I don't know your name."

"Alec," he said, holding out his hand.

I took it. "Katie."

We walked together, chatting and laughing, and it felt like we really clicked. We had more in common than I expected. I hadn't gone on a date, or even had a friend, in years. I was just too busy with school.

We walked to an ice cream parlor and sat opposite each other, eating ice cream cones and observing one another's faces. Alec was looking better to me every minute. Like a schoolgirl with a silly crush, I started getting nervous and looking down at my hands. I wasn't really the prettiest girl, not petite nor feminine nor cute. I was tall and had strong features, better described as handsome than beautiful. I worried that Alec wouldn't be attracted to me... but the way I caught him looking at me eased my doubts.

We continued like this for a few weeks, keeping each other sane and out of the bar. During this time, I quit my part-time at Walmart and picked up a job with a contracting company. They paid well and I could afford to rent out an apartment.

I got to know more and more about Alec as we spent more time together: he had wanted to be a scientist for as long as he could remember; he was supposed to be some kind of genius and had a lot of pressure put on him from a young age; he constantly hummed to himself and loved singing; and he was a virgin.

It had been two months since we met when we went on our first proper date. I asked Alec to dinner and I dressed in tight black jeans and a red blouse which accentuated my ample breasts. I let down my long, auburn hair (which I usually wore in a bun) and put on makeup. He wore slacks and a blue linen button-up shirt, looking adorable. My heart fluttered when I saw him.

"Wow, Katie," he muttered. "I had no idea your hair was so long. You look like a beautiful goddess." He reached out and stroked the ends of my hair gently. After a moment, he caught himself.

"I'm sorry," he quickly said. I was too shocked to speak. A goddess? Me?

Dinner was lovely, and afterwards I invited Alec back to my apartment. We made our way to my bedroom and began furiously making out on the bed. I sat on his lap and grinded while he ran his fingers through my hair. The tension and electricity between us was palpable. I slipped my top off between desperate kisses and unbuttoned his. He pulled away to rip his shirt off all the way and reached around to unhook my bra. He paused before taking it off and I broke away to mutter "yes," then continued kissing him deeply. He slid off my bra and fondled me, ran his hands all over my upper body. After a while of this I became incredibly aroused. I put my mouth next to his ear and whispered, "do you want to have sex?"

He paused, looked at me, and nodded slowly. "I'm just a little nervous," he said.

I kissed him on the cheek gently. "We don't have to."

"No, I want to, " he assured. "Let's just take it slow."

I nodded and opened my beside drawer to give him a condom. I took my pants off while he slid the rubber on, then I slowly lowered myself onto his cock and felt it push deep inside me.

"Oh. Wow. That's- wow." Alec looked surprised, but I couldn't tell whether he was enjoying it.

"Do I- do I hold your waist?" He asked. I nodded, and his hands found my hips. I let my hand rest against the back of his head as I bounced on him. It felt good, but it was awkward. Something was off, something was missing. He was motionless and silent for the next minute or so, and the friction started to become slightly painful. We were losing our arousal. I lowered my hand from the back of his head, thinking that adjusting the angle might improve the experience. Unfortunately, this resulted in me scraping Alec's back hard with my sharp fingernail.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry-" I started, before realizing that Alec was moaning and shuddering. I looked at him, shocked. He seemed just as taken aback as me. I slowly got off of him and sat down on the bed next to him.

"Alec, did me scratching you arouse you?" I asked gingerly. I didn't want to pry or make him uncomfortable, but I wanted to have satisfying sex with him and understand what I could do to turn him on.

"Um... promise you won't judge?" He asked. I nodded. "Well, yes. I think so. It was exciting? I'm sorry, but I don't know if what I'm looking for is normal sex. I didn't really like having my penis inside you."

"I felt wrong about it too," I said quickly, not wanting him to feel bad.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"No, no, no, don't be sorry." I tried my best to reassure him. "Communication like this is really important. I'm sure we can find a way to make this work. There's a spark here, but maybe vaginal intercourse just isn't it for us."

"I really do want you," he said. "I want you to touch me, I want you to-" he turned bright red- "do things to me."

I started scratching his scalp and admired the shape of his body. I became filled with intense lust again and wondered what "things" Alec was talking about.

"What if I did this?" I asked. I grabbed his hair and pulled it, which caused Alec to moan loudly and roll his eyes up in pleasure. I guided him down onto the bed by his hair and had him lay facedown. Then I gently swatted his bottom, which made him moan and squirm. I kept lightly spanking him and scraping him with my fingernails, and before long it became more than he could take. He begged me to pump his cock with my hand so he could cum, and he came all over my bedsheets. I had never really enjoyed being penetrated by my partners, and I had wondered whether I was asexual or somehow not doing sex right. But bringing someone to such an intense state of bliss awakened something inside of me. I felt sexually satisfied with a partner for the first time in my life.

This was how we discovered BDSM. We did more research, tried more things, played out more fantasies. BDSM scenes became our escapism, our way to both manage the challenges of life and grow closer as a couple. For most of the day, we were a normal couple. Alec moved into my apartment and we started grocery shopping together, cooking together, and sleeping in the same bed. Every once in a while, though, we would use BDSM as a way to cope with our stressful lives. Alec the perfectionist assumed the role of an obedient submissive, allowing him to entirely relinquish control and relax from time to time. I assumed the role of a powerful dominatrix, who, unlike me, was completely confident in herself and in control of her surroundings.

Our vanilla lovelife blossomed beautifully as well. We became good friends and partners and helped each other overcome adversity. Alec wants to graduate and get a good job so he can pay for me to go back to school and fulfill my dreams. He says it's only fair, since I am currently feeding, housing, and clothing him off of my labor so he can get through school. I tell him that he's already done enough. He brightens every one of my days with joy and music.. He's like my own sweet little songbird.