Becoming a Good Girl

Owen closed the door behind him and his stomach flipped sickly at the shuddering hollow thud which followed his action. The bass from the music was suddenly beating it's way through his spine and bouncing around in his chest. The stars could be seen through the windows; half opened drapes and curtains allowing slanting orange light to spill down the walls and onto the thick carpet.

He looked at the mahogany panelling of the door as though suddenly remembering why he had sought the room in the first place.

He seemed disembodied from the fact that he and Sam had wanted to speak and become closer; That they had left the loud music and the beer pong and their friends in order to simply speak in a room where they were not fighting to be heard. He felt that the few minutes previous had existed in an alternate reality to that which lay beyond the door where he now stood.

That perhaps If he stepped back inside the room, that the world and it's natural progression of time would operate differently. Perhaps he could move through the mahogany frame and enter a place where time might mystically reset.

The carpeted floor seemed to be tilting beneath him and he didn't release the door knob for fear of tipping with it. He breathed heavily and stared some more, remaining as motionless as one can when shock grips them.

"Hey man, you know that girl that you want to fuck..? That girl with which you have a genuine social and emotional interest? ... Why don't you scare her witless so that she'll never speak to you again? That's a good tactic." He growled to himself angrily, sarcasm coating his tone with a thick bitter glaze. He was deeply self loathing in a way he had never expected to feel. Of course he rationalized that he wanted Sam in a way which he had never before experienced; or he would never had made such a drastic move as he had. But he struggled to justify it as he thought of the consequences. He stood for a few more moments to wallow in his reproach before he heard a minute shuffling from inside the room.

The door which had acted such a stark source of stability for him dropped out from beneath his fingers suddenly and he tipped forward, barely catching himself as he stumbled. Their hands joined on either side of the door, both wrapped around brass knobs; Sam and Owen silently stared at one another. He straightened up and dropped his hands to his sides passively, eyeing her steadily to ascertain if she appeared afraid. But the girl looked up at him evenly, perhaps even with a small smile on the edge of her lips. Owen stepped back a step for good measure. "We arrived together," she stated in a broad statement which broke their strange pregnant silence. "So we should leave together or else Tania will think something is wrong."

She stepped closer to him and tugged at the arms of his jacket to pull the knot tighter around her small waist. She was shifty, but she didn't seem apprehensive and he was relieved that she was clean-faced and no longer violently emotional. The door was closed behind her and Sam flipped her hair over her shoulder easily, turning away and walking a few steps down the hall in a small, smooth gait. She stopped and looked back at him with an edge of irritation, she shook her one hand in a gesture which communicated as her calling him to her.

He walked the few steps in a wide stride and came to a stop beside her.

"*Isn't* anything wrong?" He breathed, astonished at her reaction. His heart pounded as he battled with the taste of relief, hoping desperately he would be allowed to savor it.

She looked up at him again and her eyes softened as she observed the worry in his face. He looked down equally as he felt her hand come to rest on his forearm. "I didn't scare you?"

Her eyes widened slightly and he thought he had offended her. "Of course you did you fucking ... sociopath. You ... You forced me." She uttered very softly, her hand dropping away from him. Her eyes seemed to glaze as she recalled it and he watched her lips as Her tongue darted out nervously to lick them.

"Yes... I did."

He had the decency to look ashamed, his eyes darkening and his hands fisting slowly at his sides.

"I - don't mind. I ... Can't be upset with you. I am trying to be."

His heart leapt at her answer, he swallowed the taste of ash in his mouth. He was doing a lot if swallowing...

She frowned deeply and looked around the shadowy hallway absently. "Why don't I mind?" She asked him vaguely, her eyes seeming suddenly watery. He lifted a hand, being sure she saw it coming and giving her plenty of time to refuse him. His fingers slipped from the edge of her jaw along her cheek until his palm lay against the left side of her face. She lifted a hand to join his, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. It was like a chest-to-chest hug, it felt so intimate. She sighed and stepped against him with her eyes still closed. "No one's ever made me feel that way." She breathed shakily.

"I'm *so* sorry Sam." He breathed, cradling her head against his palm tenderly.

She opened her eyes and pulled away. "Don't be!" She stepped back to look at him sternly, her voice dropped to a gentle lilt. "Don't be. I ... I want to do it again."

He released a bark of surprised laughter and she blushed a bright, sudden pink.

They stood apart for an awkward moment before Sam nodded and took the lead again. Owen grinned and followed her soundlessly.

Xxxx

Sam was mad with lust for him. Unexplainable, unquenchable desire and raw erotic need. Her fingers itched to touch him, and when she could not do that; she spent her time touching herself. Skin hot and prickling with frustration, legs bent against her sheets and her back arched as high as it would allow...

She sat in her lectures and thought of him, rubbing her thighs together beneath her flannel skirts and jean shorts. She drank coffee in the campus coffee shop with Tania and bit her lip around the rim of her mugs as she thought of how he had made her cum as nobody else had before him. She lay breathless on the lawns outside of the choir halls, basking in the sun with her fingers knotted in the long grass to keep them away from herself. She twisted her body up in her daydreams again and again, writhing and moaning for him so commonly that it felt like the screensaver to her mind was the sound of her own sexual ecstasy. She pictures him clothed and naked, fucking her and watching her being fucked. She lay awake on her dorm room floor and stared at the moon blindly, wishing he would break down her door and take her under the silver light.

He had taken her number when they had stepped away from one another at their cars once the party was over. But as she had dropped his slim white phone back into his palm, he had turned and left her there wordlessly. She hadn't considered the idea that he wouldn't contact her, and deeply regretted not being able to call him herself and convince him to fulfill her. She thought about the mad moment when she had walked down two flights of stairs naked to see him, hot and dropping from her shower to demand that he take her to 'his party'.

What a fateful decision that had been. Sam did not have the viscosity to put herself through that again... The experience had been an emotional taffy puller and she wasn't willing to be stretched to the limits of her bravery any longer. She wanted him to take charge.

Finally, after four days of nail biting he sent her a short message. Her phone buzzed on the table and she clicked it open with a lazy finger, not removing the cocoa from her lips. The message was from an unknown number and read simply: 'I see you are enjoying the taste of that coffee cup.'

She was alone in the self same coffee shop what she had been gnawing cups in for almost a week since the party. She looked up from her phone with pleasant alarm and twisted around in her seat to find him. Her hair caught on the back of her chair and she winced, drawing the long glossy strands over her one shoulder. He was standing a meter away from her with a cinnamon pasty in the crook of his muscular arm and a small plastic coffee cup in his hand. His phone was in his other hand, the screen still open to the message he had sent her. He smiled at her sheepishly and she tilted her head towards the chair opposite her. She smiled openly at him as he walked closer, squinting slightly against the light that shine in through the double glass doors behind him.

"Hi there... Uhm... Sam." He croaked, sitting down heavily and dropping the leather sling bag that was over his shoulder once he had depositors the items in his hands to the table.

She giggled and leaned back, lowering the ceramic from her lips. "Oh *no*, Owen that won't do."

He looked alarmed at her easy nature and good mood, as though he were afraid she was trying to lure him into a trap. He chuckled falsely and gazed back at her, apparently transfixed. She leaned in and propped her pointed chin on her hand flirtatiously.

"I much prefer the other name you had for me..." She over pronounced each word and made sure he watched her tongue as it snaked out over her bright pink lips. He gulped.

"I... Uhm... Oh. Yeah?" He scratched the back of his head and took a hasty sip of coffee, a drop spilling on the table in his haste. She laughed outright then.

"It's okay Owen. Please." She reached for him with her spare hand, and he watched as her painted fingers slipped easily to rest in his tanned palm. He closed her fingers there and breathe a deep sigh of relief, speckled with laughter. He cast his eyes to her and for the first time since he had forced an orgasm out of her, he did not look afraid.

Xxxx

It took her a her a week to convince him that she wasn't going to have a breakdown about what had happened between them and a three hour long conversation about boundaries which included him confessing she looked "especially hot when she was crying".

She would arrive at his door every so often and bring him a piece of something to eat, try to invite herself in or lure him away somewhere. Her advances were fruitless. She held his hand whenever Tania was around and leaned her weight in him in the cafeteria; a habit he grew quickly addicted to as he could smell her sweet shampoo and the tang of her skin. She pushed him and pulled him, grabbed him and lead him... Contacted their skin whenever was possible and stole a hundred kisses from his stunned lips before he finally reached down and forced his tongue between her teeth.

That kiss was better than their first, that kiss was a victory for Sam more than anything she had ever experienced. It was two weeks worth of edging him towards herself as tentatively as a tight rope walker and with as much difficulty as she had ever encountered. Despite this victory however, it took another two days for her to coax him into her room after Tania had gone to bed and the long afternoon shadows had fallen. She was beside herself with mindless lust and practically drooling between her legs whenever he touched her, even just to pat her hair or smooth the wrinkles in her jeans. She needed him and she wanted him to need her too...

She cracked open her door at his knock and pulled him inside by a warm free hand. His shaggy hair was slicked back and he was wearing a white collared shirt with maroon chinos and black sneakers. She had never seen him look so clean, and definitely never so nervous, even after having him sexually zombified for two weeks.

"Are you going somewhere?" Sam asked him flirtatiously. She stepped back slightly, only half a step, to survey him playfully. He grinned and shook his head. He seemed to be Rolling on the balls of his feet and so Sam imitated the action in jest. He arched a cheeky eyebrow and, lunging for her suddenly, pulled her tiny frame against him. "Princesses should not make fun of their Daddies." He growled, crushing her against his chest as he dipped his head to run his nose along her sweeping neck.

He slipped his hands from the middle of her back to her hips, his longest fingers nestling the fabric over her ass and seeking the cool feeling of her skin. She pushed her thighs slightly forward into his hands, her eyes on his lips as he licked them. She was wrapped up in a silky pink gown which she was hoping he would peel off of her quickly to reveal the snug white tank top and lacy thong underneath. He had to slip his hand all the way over this particularly saucy powder pink gown to find skin. When His hand finally curled over the firm swell of her ass cheek, his nails grazing the taught string of the thong pulled up over her pale skin, he looked down at her smugly. They were looking at one another like two cats who had found a canary to share; two wild and bloodthirsty cats who were both equally as pleased to gorge themselves. He pushed a hand between them roughly and yanked at the silky bow holding her skimpy gown in place. It slipped over her shoulders and caught on the arm of his hand which was still perched on her ass cheek and was shaken off without a second of thought.

Reaching, reaching for her skin hungrily as her soft shirt was pulled higher and higher he finally shifted his dark eyes to hers. Sam arched her back very softly for him as he connected the pads of his fingers with the satin and metal clasp of her bra. It clicked in the silent room and they both giggled childishly in reverence.

She moved her hands to his shirt, pulling at the buttons determinedly and eventually finding her fingers joined by his as he grew impatient. She stepped back on the tips of her toes before dropping to a flat-footed stance after a moment. She wriggled her hips as she felt warmth collecting between her thighs, blood rushing to her most sensitive lips. She slipped her thumbs into her thong and dropped it on the ground, his eyes flew to the scrap of white lace and he bent to retrieve it. He bent at the hips and knees, then looked up at her from his bent position. She lifted a hand to bite her nail, gazing down at him with the frame of her pert breasts in her periphery. He dropped the lacey scrap and lifted a hand to trail it up her smooth leg, smiling contentedly as she shivered in anticipation.

Owen's shirt hung off his shoulders haphazardly and Sam found herself watching the smooth muscles of his chest as his arm rose higher and higher. He began to stand slowly, his hand following his motion and gliding up her side eagerly. His knuckles grazed the inside of her slim arm as his thumb smoothed its way over the lower swell of her D-cup breast. She drew in a sharp breath as the thumb moved lightly over her nipple and her eyes move up to his again. He moved his hands away and places them on her slim waist firmly. She wriggled gently in hesitance, unsure of his motivations. Without a word of warning he heaved her up, crouched slightly and tossed her over his shoulder. She squealed in shock and delight, finding herself a moment later, on her back. Thrown heavily onto her bed, breathless from the haste of the motions, she gazed up at Owen and moaned gently "I want you." Between pants. His eyes grew immediately darker and Sam grinned proudly at his reaction.

She watched him and felt physically as her inhibitions lessened. Roughly he pulled her legs apart and stepped closer to the mattress, between her smooth thighs. Before she could catch her breath his fingers found their way to her slit. She murmured in surprise as his thumb pressed hard into her clit, his index finger hovering teasingly over her entrance. Her eyes closed and she groaned unabashedly, tension melting out of her as his finger sank sharply into her sopping wet pussy. "Oh please..." She whimpered as he moved his single finger back and forth. "Please what princess? What do you want?"

"More... Oh god! More!" She moaned, her hands fisting in the smooth cotton bed sheets. Her eyes sank closed and her brows knitted as her orgasm built altogether too quickly in the pit of her stomach and overwhelmed her.

"I'm afraid I don't understand... I don't hear the magic word... What's my name, princess?"

With his free hand he began to unbuckle his leather belt, hoping she would hear and not be too shocked when he substituted his fingers. She whimpered stubbornly, refusing him passively and biting her lip rather than fulfill his request. "What's my name baby girl?" He prompted, kicking off his shoes and stepping from his trousers without missing a stroke of his finger inside her. He bit his lip and moaned as he watched her, every fantasy held inside of himself from the first time he had found himself inside of her pushing back and forcing him to reach for her, touch her more, move faster!

She wriggled her hips and released a choking sob, her pussy tightening around his finger, shocking him with it's tightness. "Please-" her tone had changed and he looked up from her spread thighs to her face. She was looking down at him with desperate eyes, looking deeply distressed.

He did not change his strokes at all. When he spoke again he whispered harshly. "Please WHO?"

She released a cry of desperation and frustration and fell back hard onto the mattress. "Please! Fuck. Please let me cum!"

Deciding that she had waited long enough and ignoring her insolence, he fed a second finger inside of her without a word of warning and used his free hand to press the small girl's body back against the bed. She came immediately, crying out softly and spurting glistening clear liquid over his fingers and into his palm. A tear streaked down her temple and Into her hair. He withdrew his hands from inside her and from her chest.

He gripped her chin gently and forced her lips apart with a firm press against her jaw. She watched him silently, riding out the aftershock of her orgasm slowly. Her eyes were dark and glazed, drunk as she was on hormones. He pressed his fingers against her tongue and released her jaw so that her mouth closed around them. She moaned and her eyes sank closed again.

He moved back again and stood straight, his hands tugging gently at her hips so that her ass sat on the very edge of the bed.

After a moment she was breathing shallowly again, watching him passively and wordlessly. His hand moved over her cunt again, spreading her open playfully. She arched and looked up at the window, to the moon. She grinned mutely and waited for him to move again. She felt the pressure of him at her entrance and held herself as still as she was able. She mewled gently, surprise by how far he penetrated her with a single push. He lifted her knees with his free hand and she held them up herself at a right angle to their bodies.

She reached for his hands and he ignored her seeking; gripped her wrists, pulling them above her head as he had before. Her eyelids flutter closed and she smiled vaguely, bracing for him to make the finally push. She shifted her hips gingerly towards him, unsure of his rhythm but eager beyond belief to feel all of his length.

However instead of doing as she expected, he worked his hips back slightly and toyed the head of his cock at her entrance... He pushed the ridge against her tight opening again and again and watched in tortuous delight as her hips pull away from him and her spine curved elegantly. She began to make a small, aching sound in the back of her throat and he watched her full, pink lips moisten rapidly. Unbearably warm clear fluid smeared it's way up his cock and lapped over her ass cheeks. She looked up at him helplessly and gasped hotly before whispering "Ple-ase,"

Confused and concerned for his performance Owen leaned closer, her wrists still secure in his tight, brutal grip above her head. "Please what princess?"

"Please ..." She looked up at him in fear. Fear of rejection, fear of embarrassment, but most of all fear that he will not fulfill her. As all men prior to him had not. "Please go harder... Deeper... Please ..." She drew a fortifying breath "-Daddy."