Editor's note: this fictional work contains scenes of completely fictional incest or fictional incest content.
*****
Hayden beamed up at him as the Earth stopped shaking. Her protector. Her big hero. All that princess bullshit she secretly loved. It was here now, towering over her as she lay in a soft bed.
"You saved my life," she said, with a knowing grin.
"Ha, ha," he said, his tone was ironic, but the smile was real. He glanced around at the room. She'd heard a crash from the closet, but nothing in the bedroom had fallen over. The moment was passed. The world was as it should be now.
She ran a hand down the back of his t-shirt. She had a few questions, "Why are you dressed?"
He looked down, still holding the pose, "I was gonna make you French toast. I was just getting started."
She smiled, "French toast sounds really good."
He shifted to get up. She didn't like that but she understood. He stood next to the bed and she noted the gym shorts that he filled out nicely, "I need to check on Tom and Rusty next door. Are you sure you're okay?"
She sat up, covering her chest with the sheet, "I'm okay," she nodded.
His eyes went up, in thought. "Um... there's clothes in the chest in the closet. Grab anything you like. I'm gonna check on them and then we should make sure your house is okay."
She nodded, "I'm sure it's fine. Go check on your friend. I'm gonna hop in the shower."
He blew her a kiss in an old-fashioned way, like something you'd expect from a married couple. Then he disappeared down the hall.
She fell back on the mattress and stared up at the ceiling, riding the rush of endorphins and adrenaline for a bit.
"Ugh... God, he's cute. Why did he have to be cute?" She cursed his face and his jawline and his tongue... my God, his tongue. She shook her head to clear her mind. She'd rushed into emotion prematurely before and been burned. But it felt so safe with Brandon. She tried to think of why he might be different as she padded towards the shower.
For starters, he wasn't a Hollywood guy. No fame, not much money... well... not compared to her anyway. He had an actual job. Stable, nerdy, trustworthy. That last was a guess, but she felt it in her bones.
She wanted to trust so badly. There was no way to be sure. That was always the point though, wasn't it? If you could be sure, it wouldn't be trust.
She started the water and heard her phone buzz. She'd left it on the bathroom counter last night. It had been running all night and she was down to 38%. She had a text from Kristen.
"Big shake just now. You ok?"
She smiled. Kristen was salt of the earth to check on her right after a quake. She shot off a quick reply.
"Got saved by a big strong man. You know how it is."
She waited a few seconds for the reply.
"Ooooh... details, girl!"
Hayden giggled and sent back a simple "Later" then hopped in the shower.
Brandon's bathroom had no traces of a feminine influence. She frowned at the lack of a good shampoo and settled for just scrubbing down with soap and water. She'd make a better job of it when she got back to her place.
When she checked under the sink and found that he didn't have a blow dryer, she started making a list. There were things she would need.
Damp hair tossed over her shoulder and a towel wrapped around her chest, she walked, barefoot, into his closet. At the back there was a chest that fit snugly between the walls. She looked around at his clothes. Nothing too surprising. Polos and a few dress pants. Some jeans. Nothing all that interesting.
But then she saw the black box on the floor.
It appeared to have fallen from one of the shelves. She saw a bare space on the top shelf and took a guess. The quake had shaken it from its perch, springing the lid open when it hit the carpet. Ordinarily a little snooping was fair game on a first date, but this felt very private. Still, she was nothing if not curious. Especially when she saw the pink silk.
She righted the box and several items fell out. There was a black leather collar. An elaborate set of connected handcuffs. She'd seen enough to know a stash of bondage gear when it was in front of her. Brandon had quite a collection. Most of it wasn't intimidating or freakish, but he clearly was into some wilder elements of BDSM.
She didn't bat an eye at the flogger or the paddle, but her eyebrows went up when she found a pair of old-fashioned mouse traps. She lifted one up and examined it. It wasn't live, but it did appear to be functional. She looked to the closet door behind her and toyed with the mechanism. Letting it snap home after a quarter-turn. It didn't make her flinch, but she did ponder how it might feel coming down on her nipple.
"Hmm... naughty boy," she said quietly, to herself.
In for a penny, she thought as she looked through the rest of the spilled contents. She found a set of butt plugs. Small, bigger, biggest. She'd been plugged once or twice and this didn't bother her. The one that had a rubber dog tail attached to it was freaky, but she'd known such things existed.
When she found the strap-on... that was enough to raise an eyebrow.
"Helloooo," she said, lifting the black phallus in its leather harness. She giggled quietly as she took note of how the straps worked. She wrapped the harness around her waist and contemplated what it'd be like to wear this for him.
"Is that what you want, Brandon?" she silently wondered. She put the harness and its imposing cock back down.
The next item caught her eye for a very different reason.
It was a small package, probably never opened, but inside there was a stainless steel cock cage.
She grinned, "Hmm... very naughty." Her giggle filled the small space and she put the box down. Next to it was what had caught her eye in the first place.
They were a pair of pink, silk boyshort panties. Much too big for her... but not too big for Brandon.
It was possible that they were from an ex. Big boys often dated big girls. But with it being with the rest of these fetish items she guessed that these had never been worn by a woman. She contemplated what his cock would look like stretching that fabric out. Her curiosity was hitting overdrive now.
"Hayden?" he said. His voice came from the doorway. She jumped, turned, and nearly dropped her towel. Instead she dropped the panties to the floor.
"Oh, God," she said, now more embarrassed for snooping than he had any right to be embarrassed about his fetishes.
"What..." he asked, stunned.
"Um... it fell. I think it was the quake. I was trying to find some clothes to wear when I found it," she turned, bit her lip, worrying that she'd crossed a line.
"That's my private stuff," he said, more than a little defensively.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I wasn't trying to..."
He held up a hand and she shut her mouth. A moment of silence passed between them. She saw him close his eyes and shiver. This was going to be hard.
"Um... what did you... see?" he asked. He couldn't look at her in this moment.
"It's none of my business," she said. She was a good enough actress to sell that line.
"That's not what I asked," he said.
"I saw... look, it's nothing to be embarrassed about," she said, trying the safest thought she had.
"It is," he said, looking down at the carpet. "I keep that stuff in the back for a reason. It's not something I'd have wanted to show you right now," he said, still looking down. He knelt and started to clean up the spilled contents.
"Brandon..." she said.
"I'm sorry. I know that's got to be weird to find this kind of stuff with a guy you spent the night with. I'll just clean this up and take you home. It's okay," he said, still unable to meet her gaze.
"No. That's not... look, you don't have to be embarrassed. I knew you liked domination. All this bondage stuff, it's fine. Some of it's a little out there, but it's all fine," she said, meaning it.
"I'm really sorry. I can call you a cab if you don't want me to drive you," he said. It was like he couldn't hear her at all.
"Brandon!" she said, grabbing his wrist as he reached for a pair of cuffs on the floor. He locked eyes with her. She saw fear and shame. This had gone beyond snooping. Accidentally or not, he was hurt.
She held his eyes with hers, "Take your pants off," she said.
"What?"
"You're freaking out because you think I'm gonna judge you. I'm not judging you. I want you to know that it's okay. Take your pants off. You're gonna tell me about all this stuff and I'm gonna stroke your cock while you do."
"What?" he repeated, suddenly far more incredulous.
"I didn't mean to go through your stuff. I shouldn't have. But now that I know, I've got questions. And I want to ask them. But I owe you for messing with your space. So... I'm gonna get answers, and you're gonna get a handjob, okay?"
He took a moment to think. She was surprised by her own words, but it somehow made sense. She wanted him to know that she still liked him. She wanted him to feel safe in his own sexuality. And she kinda wanted to see just how big a freak she'd been fucking last night. This solution might not be straight out of Miss Manners, but any actress worth her salt knew that there was always room for improvisation.
He turned, stood, and she decided to help him out. She reached for the hem of his gym shorts and lowered them. He gasped in that way she liked. She took his black boxers down and his cock sprung to life.
Yep, there's a humiliation fetish here, she thought as she took a grip on his shaft.
She sat on the floor, looking up into his eyes, "Here's the deal... you tell me the truth and I won't judge. As long as you keep talking, you get this," she said, stroking his cock slowly up and down one time to anchor the point.
He moaned. She had him now. He nodded hard.
She held up a pair of handcuffs, dangling them off a fingertip, "For you or for me?"
"I like bondage," he said, eyes fluttering, cock pulsing under her fingers.
"Clearly," she said, smirking, "But do you want to be in it, or put ME in it?"
"Mostly you," he said.
"Mostly?" she asked, pausing her stroke.
"Look, I like a lot of weird stuff. Even I don't always know what I want," he said. She could hear the honesty. She resumed her slow stroking. His groan was a nice little reward.
"And this?" she said, holding up the mousetrap.
"Oh fuck," he said, beet red from embarrassment. She paused and he whimpered and spoke, "I told you I was into domination. Sometimes that means pain," he said.
She nodded, "Have you used them before?"
He shook his head hard, "My ex said 'no way'. That was the end of it."
"Did you try them out on yourself?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
He nodded, "I'd never hurt someone without knowing how bad it could be."
Sadistic, but fair-minded. She liked that answer. She liked him. But she was also a playful little minx when she was horny. She let go of his cock and loaded the spring for the mousetrap.
"So... if I wanted to snap this down on your cock right now..." she said, letting the thought hang.
