Bad Girl Rising

10/25/04

It's late. I'm alone in bed, as usual. I've just closed my PowerBook for the night, figuring that at 2am, you aren't going to be online anymore. Sighing, I turn off the light and lay down. It's been at least a week, and I miss being with you, in every sense. I've told you that I'm trying to hold on, to not open that little wooden box, but frustrated, I reach for the Hitachi Magic Wand plugged in next to the bed. (It's been my main recourse for so long that I don't need to see to find it.)

The Wand goes at 4000-5000 rpm, so it's fairly audible. And I tend to get locked into my own mind when I'm taking my own pleasure. Maybe that explains why I didn't hear you until I felt your hand at my throat.

My eyes open wide as you demand to know what I'm doing and why. I try to explain in my shock; I try to soothe and welcome you, even as I wonder how you got into the house; I try to save myself from punishment.

No dice. I get about three words in when you kiss me savagely. This kiss doesn't just take my breath away, it threatens to take my will with it. A surge of rebellion runs through me and I try to push you back, try to demand that you explain what the fuck you are doing here without my leave. Your response is to grasp my hair, expose my throat, and bite. Hard.

I know why you're there. Giving in, I try to go along, to be the helpful lady. I reach for the buttons on your shirt, and almost lose my hand. You remind me that I am in trouble, because I've lied to you. You tell me that if I can't wait, then fine, I won't.

You don't bother to undress me; not that I'm wearing much to bed anyway. A green silk button-down shirt and that's it. So much for the buttons. I had liked those. For a split second I think about finding them later as you begin to bite and suck my nipples. The bitemarks from last week had just begun to subside and you add a fresh set. I moan, because I know I can't do anything else.

You tease your way down my torso and my stomach, coming to my pussy. There you stop. You retrace the wetness left by your tongue, using your hands, all the way down. Then you stop. I moan, lifting my hips, offering myself to you, and you just wait, watching, calculating your next move.

A pillow falls over my eyes. Black in a black room. I'm confused for a second, because it is unlike you to use props when you want something so badly. Then I feel your hands on my inner thighs, followed by your tongue, and I smile, expecting what I want to happen. You move closer to my pussy again, and I start to moan in anticipation. Again, foolish move. I don't hear you unzip.

I'm waiting, and then you enter me hard, savagely. If I wasn't already dripping wet I would have been torn open, and you would have made a good show of not caring. You throw the pillow across the room and take my hair, forcing me to meet your eyes as you fuck me. You want me to know who I belong to. A first for me, I want to be owned, at least then.

Nothing is ever so simple. After a few minutes of pounding me incredibly hard, you stop, and move off. I smile inwardly, expecting to be pulled onto my knees. Nothing so sweet for your lady tonight. This is, after all, punishment of a sort. I do end up on my knees, but on the floor, kneeling on the lambskin beside my bed. Your hand is tangled in my hair again, and you force my mouth over your cock. I suck willingly, eagerly, enjoying a limited sense of power and control. Then you decide that I am not moving fast enough, and you use your hands in my mane to push me faster, deeper. Tears spring into my eyes and I realize that I really have been a bad girl.

Games are done. You want to finish this, and I want to let you. Finally I'm right - I end up on my knees on my bed, hair falling over my left shoulder as I turn my head behind me to watch your eyes and face. You allow it, because you are ready to come and you want me to see, to know the man who has reduced me to a beautiful strong toy. You growl as you release inside me, and I cry out with you, and collapse under my own weight.

...

I think I slept for a while. Maybe a half-hour, hour. I'm still sticky when I open my eyes again. And there you are, watching me. You kiss me, gently this time, and remark that you wanted to make sure I was alright. I curl up beside you and reply that I will always be alright with you.

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A story, for you, with all my heart.

--- Kelly