Properly Tames

You think you know what you want. You're a grown woman, after all. This is not your first time around the block. So, when he shows up, a smaller, darker man than you expected - strangely soft looking somehow - you're tempted to throw $3 on the table and leave before your coffee even cools.

But you don't. He's quicker than you are, with the light grace of a cat. Indeed, there is much about him that seems feline - the slow half-smile, the feeling that, even when he sits, it's more like a couched crouching. You expect him to lunge any minute. Instead, he sits, languidly.

It's not a fancy restaurant. More of a diner, really, filled with unproblematic sunshine. Seems an odd place to be discussing dominance and submission. Dark topics.

And yet here the two of you are, negotiating. He wants a lot and not much at all. His business is global. He's on the go most of the time. You won't have to show up often. But when you do, you can tell it will be all in.

He wants you to call him 'daddy'. At home, you try it out, roll it off your tongue. Daddy. It sounds silly. It makes you think of your father who died three years ago. It seems disrespectful. Still - role play and all. How bad could it be?

You've called men silly things before. Regardless of what you were actually thinking, they all believe them. He will, too, whether or not your heart is in it. After all, it's not about that, is it? It's about your obedience. You'll do it. Whether you like it or not.

So you're still a little anxious when you arrive. Motel 6. Hardly the classiest place but it will do. You'll go wherever he says - this little man with the XL presence. His voice is all silky but it rings of menace just the same. He has already told you he doesn't believe in props. No tools or toys. Only his belt.

That does remind you of your father. You secretly hope he won't use it.

His first command is odd. Don't touch me, he says, as he backs you up against the wall. That shouldn't be hard, you think - automatically - and then, suddenly, it is. Insanely hard. He barely touches you, just a bare light brushing. You can feel his breath on you. It makes you squirm. He gets close enough to you that you can register his erection. But not touch it. He spins you around quickly, so you're facing the wall. His hand is on your ass, probing. All your clothes are still on and yet you feel naked. There is a heat in his hands that feels like X-rays.

Take off your clothes, he says. You're so nervous it's as if you were a toddler. Buttons and zippers are equally challenging. When you're naked, he doesn't do much. Looks you over like a horse - appraising. If you were a horse, you could quite likely buck him. He's slight enough. And yet you can't make yourself forget he has spurs and he will use them.

Pet. You asked him to call you pet and he does now. Pet, now undress me. You begin to walk towards him when he adds - not with your hands.

You've never undressed anyone with your mouth. Is it even possible? Surprisingly, it is. Your mouth is cottony at the end of it, laced with the taste of leather, and you can't help but notice his belt is surprisingly worn by comparison with his expensive shirt and his well polished shoes.

You don't get to finish the job in one fell swoop. Once his belt is freed, it's a copper snake with a life of its own. Who knew that the TV consoles at the motel 6 are so hard, that they're perfectly aligned with your bare breasts, that they're surprisingly slippery when you attempt to hold onto them.

Give me your ass, he says. As if it weren't right there for the taking. What does he want? How can you give him what he already has? Has already taken? And yet you understand, somehow. Your body understands and you angle your ass up yet a little higher, strangely proud that his hand should soothe you, cooling tracing the lines he put on it.

Pet, he purrs. Get on the bed and let your daddy pet you.

You scramble to the bed, wondering what he wants. How he'll want it. He puts a single finger on you and you begin to squirm.

Now, now, pet - he says. No, no, no. Not yet. He rubs your own wetness against your panting mouth. You will tell me when you come, you understand? Every time. Because I know you're still too wild to control yourself. He chuckles a bit when he says that.

And wild you are, when he ropes the belt around your waist, your neck, and pounds into you. If he seemed slight before, he doesn't now. He is large and seemingly larger all the time, especially when he puts you on top of him.

Give me your cunt. Once again, you're perplexed. While you're pondering his command, the slap to your face brings you back to the present. This is no theoretical exercise. You may not leave to contemplate the situation. He will have what he wants and your body will figure out how to give it to him. You take a deep breath and manage to sink deeper onto him. It shouldn't be possible but it is. With each slap your body gives way a bit more and finally he is where no one else has been and you are utterly and completely open. If you were a book, he have cut to the spine and all the pages would be coming loose and fluttering away.

All of which means you're screaming 'daddy, I'm coming'. Because you are. Have been. But what's roiling through you doesn't really have a name. You had a name once. So did what you're feeling. Once upon a time. It seems so far away now. Where you are right at that moment is so wide open it cannot be mapped. You gave yourself to a guide who does not speak your language and now all you can do is trust that he knows where the other side is. If there is an other side.

In all of this, you've almost forgotten that he, too, longs for it. To get through this and when, after hours of mouth and cunt and ass, he tells you to finish him, you do - and suddenly find him transformed back to a man. Shaking, almost sobbing.

Well done, pet. Well done. He pets you absentmindedly. You purr beneath hand like a show animal. Like a prize jumper. Sore but satisfied.

Next time I'll reward you with a little extra cock, he hisses in your ear. Because I know my pet is hungry. And still not properly tamed.

Exquisite writing. It puts the reader rig