Fight for Surrender

* A fight for surrender *

A/N:

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As soon as I unlock the door and step in, I sense that something is wrong. I can't quite put my finger on

what

is different, but my instinct tells me to act with caution.

I cross the living room as soundless as I possibly can with my heels on and drop my bag on the couch on the way. My every sense is strained as to whatever will appear from somewhere.

You casually lean against the kitchen counter, wearing a smutty grin upon your lips.

"Oh, you fucking dickhead. What the hell are you doing here?" I demand enraged, wasting no time with a polite greeting. This is the mother of all pranks, isn't it?

You don't respond; only your smile spreads across your face to brighten up those sinful blue eyes of yours. "On second thought; I don't even wanna know why you are here. Just get the fuck out." I gesture towards the door, indicating you to leave.

Now

.

The purring sound of your throaty laugh flatters in my ears. Goddamnit, why can't you just leave? I suppress the sudden urge to drop to my knees, although I'm certain my legs won't support me for much longer.

"Darling, didn't we agree on casual sex on random occasions?" you ask me matter-of-factly, and I'm obviously taken aback. You have a point here. But still! "That doesn't mean you can break into my flat whenever you want to." I start to become seriously pissed and notice how I raise my voice. I know you don't like it when I use that tone...

"I didn't break in!" You sound as though you feel personally insulted to be accused of such offense. "I told your neighbour I was your boyfriend and wanted to surprise you. So, here I am!" Your grin widens to the size of whole California. That's it, I officially hate you.

"Listen, I had a hell of a day, I'm dead tired and pissed and I really want you to leave now." Staying calm seems like the most difficult task for me now. I just can't muster the strength to keep quiet.

"No, you don't. I know you well enough." You place the glass you held in your hand on the counter next to you. I see that you must have found the Ben Whyvis in the fridge which I had stored there for special occasions originally. Of course your self-serving manner allows you to consider yourself such an occasion. I sigh, unable to find any words for you.

You take a step towards me and press me against the wall. The funny thing is; you don't even touch me. I rather try not to let you touch me, so I move backwards until I feel the wall in my back. Fuck you, bastard, fuck you!

Your breath skimmers over my skin and creates goose bumps on my forearms. "Okay, I'm gonna take a shower and when I come back, I want you to be gone!" I mutter and try to shove you aside. I should have thought about that before. Of course my frame is no match to yours, so you effortlessly manage to grab my wrists and spin me around.

You push me closer to you and softly nibble on my neck. Fuck it, you know the spot, you know it, you... I cannot hold back a moan when you bite the spot just behind my ear. I grind myself against you, noticing how excited you already are. At least I make you hard as much as you make me weak!

"I know you want me!" you whisper breathlessly into my ear, causing me to shudder. "No... I don't!" Again I try pushing you off me, but to no avail. Finally though, I at least manage to turn myself around to face you. We stare at each other for what seems like eternity, battling for the upper hand. You know damn well that I can't stand looking you in the eyes, so the battle is decided the second before we lock our gazes. I lower my head, unable to bear the steely determination in your glance for any longer. "Fuck off!" I whisper, almost inaudible.

You tip my chin up, so that I have to look at you once more. "Say that again." you dare me, challenge me, tempt me. I remain silent though, for I know you understood me very well. Promptly, you bury your hand in my hair at the nape of my neck and tug roughly. "Say. That. Again!" You punctuate each word with a rapid jerk.

I am losing control; I feel it, feel how my blood starts boiling and the adrenalin pumps through my veins. I know that, if I open my mouth to speak now, I'll scream bloody murder. But you still have your fingers entangled in my hair and yank ruthlessly. I feel how the words break loose from my tongue and I holler at you. "

Fuck off, that's what I said

!"

Before I know what's happening, I feel a hard sting on my right cheek. You've slapped me. As a matter of fact, you have slapped me in the face! I want to say anything, tell you to fucking leave me alone and never come back, but you crush your mouth on mine and take my breath away. Our tongues wrestle, I try my hardest to dominate the kiss, but you bite my lower lip hard until I gasp for breath. Instantly you take over and push your tongue into my mouth, invading me, tasting me, exploring me.

Finally you allow me to end the kiss. Immediately I slap you right back across your face. It feels liberating, relieving - and unbelievably satisfying. You seem surprised at first, but then you crack a smile and withdraw your hand from my hair. I am cautious for your next move and observe you intently.

"What's the matter? Are you..." you reach for my throat and loosely wrap your fingers around it "...scared?" You know that I tend to panic whenever you do this and until now, every time you tried choking me, I would threaten to hyperventilate and plead you to stop. Not now, though. My every muscle is tense and strained, but I manage a cocky smile. "No" I exhale.

Briefly you squeeze your fingers, but then you go for grabbing my wrist and pulling me with you, out of the kitchen and into my bedroom.

Forcefully you push me onto the mattress, so that you tower above me. You are muscular, tall and strong. And I'll openly admit it; you scare me a tad bit right now. But, don't get all excited, I'd never grant you the pleasure of telling you that.

"Take your clothes off." you order in that typical calm, yet determined voice. I know you mean business. Gracefully I rise off the bed and start unbuttoning my blouse. Obviously I'm not doing it fast enough for your liking, for you grab the hem and tear it apart, so that the buttons fly through the air, coming to land scattered in the room. "You better hurry the fuck up or I'll have to do it myself. I don't want no fucking strip tease, or did I demand that?"

I mumble some curses at you and continue undressing. "I asked you a fucking question." Puzzled, I look up at you. I know that. I am not deaf. I heard you.

For the second time this day your palm meets my cheek. I react immediately, raising my hands to fucking punch you, but you are faster than me. You hold my fists in a tight grip and as much as I struggle, I stand no chance against you. "Don't try that again or I swear I'll fuck you up!" you whisper hoarsely, tightening your grip around my hands. "Now fucking answer me."

"No, you did not ask me to perform a strip tease for you.

Sir

." I deliberately spit out the last word, with the tone I use whenever I challenge you. I put emphasis on the syllable by melodiously teasing it on my lips before hissing it out in entire reluctance.

You decide to fasten things up a bit and do the rest of the undressing yourself, being not gently at all in the process. When you are finished, you examine me from head to toe, nodding approvingly all the time. You know how much I hate being watched like that. I am not a fucking antelope, tiger!

My eyes flash you, daring you to test me, push it further, eventually break me. This time you break the eye contact, to loosen the buckle of your belt. You bridge the gap between us faster than I can step back. I am too startled to struggle, so you manage to tie me up with the belt relatively easy. My arms are now horizontally bound at my back; you've robbed me any room to function.

At first I try wiggling my hands free, but soon I realise that you made a good job restraining me. "Uh, is big boy feeling all powerful now?" I tease you. Another slap across my face doesn't succeed to rub my fierce grin off, but at least manages to audibly make me exhale a sharp gasp of "Oh". You have been quite forceful in getting your point across this time. "Are we trying to be feisty once again? Feeling a little too comfortable, is that what you are?" Without waiting for my - doubtlessly cynical - response, you grip my hips and pick me up off the floor, ignoring my squeals and shouts to fucking let me down again. Ferociously you throw me on the bed and lower yourself on top of me, hovering above me dangerously close. I try to push you off me with my legs, but that is to no avail. You grab my ankles and give me a dirty smirk after inspecting my shoes. There're all I'm wearing -- and they are Louboutins. I know you love it when I wear nothing but heels. But one thing you love even more is teasing me relentlessly.

"They're new." you conclude and once more I realise that you know me way too well. How can you come over occasionally to fuck me and notice when I have new shoes? I doubt that's a good thing...

Your wicked grin tells me that you're up for something. "So what?!" I snap defensively. "Oooh..." you start grinning like a fool. "So... They're high, they're patent leather and I bet they were outrageously expensive..." Before I can withdraw, you take them off me and hold them out of my reach. Oh, I forgot: I couldn't even grab them if I wanted...

"I guess you want them back, right?" I can tell you're thoroughly enjoying this. "Stop that bullshit, idiot, and gimme those shoes back. You'll damage them!" I hiss at you, the angry twinkling in my eyes only spurring you on. "You'll have to work in order to get them back."

With that you carelessly drop them behind you and fist your hand into my hair. Half-brutally you drag me up, then push me down in front of you, until I kneel at your feet. The bedpost is in my back, so I have absolutely nowhere to go. I am not used to being caged like that, both mentally and physically - and I'm not sure whether I like it.

"Open your mouth" you instruct me, trying to sound bossy. You drop your jeans, giving me the perfect display of your aroused cock. Normally I would open my mouth without having to be encouraged, but today I won't give in too easily. You deserve to be teased!

You thread your fingers into my hair and repeat yourself, telling me I had better open my mouth or else. I shoot you a defying glance and comply reluctantly, parting my lips just inch-wide. Temptingly I lick my lips, but you have none of that and capture my jaw to force my mouth to open further. The edge of rawness in your voice is unmistakably as you speak.

"Leave it open."

Promptly you push your cock past my lips, but I only allow the tip of it to invade my mouth. For some seconds I tease you relentlessly, licking and nibbling its head, sucking lightly at its tip. Whenever I pull back a tad to breathe, I see beads of pre-cum which I slowly lick off.

Finally you have enough and fist your hand into my hair. "Let's see how much these shoes are really worth, shall we?" you whisper devilishly and guide my head towards your dick. I engulf it into my mouth; enjoying its firm warmth and hardness for some moments, before I frantically start sucking. You cannot suppress a moan and let your head fall back in obvious enjoyment. I smile around your dick; I still know how to turn you on, who's in charge now?!

You must have read my thoughts, because you grab hold of my hair even tighter and press my head fully down on you. Your dick hits the back of my throat, causing me to gag. But you don't let me pull back to take a deep breath; instead, you force it down my throat. Slowly my lungs get short of oxygen and I squirm heavily. You maintain the pressure for some more seconds, then finally let me pull away. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" I instantly snap at you, between furious coughs. You smile down on me in obvious amusement. Sadistic little motherfucker!

"I told you to work, not get as comfy as possible." you remark when you notice me strain against my bonds. Still, you reach around me and undo the belt to permit me to move my arms again. "Now you fucking won't move and leave your mouth open, understood?" Your breath is ragged with pent-up ager now. I know better than to answer you back, the severity in your voice is warning enough for me. "Very much so."

Your hand curls around my throat to control my head movement while you bury your cock inside of my mouth once more. With both hands you push my head back and forth along the length of your shaft. Strained, I clench my throat not to give you access to push deeper, but you murmur for me to open it. "Relax your throat. Open it. Just open." Although I am cautious about deep throating, I am aware that you know exactly what you're doing.

As soon as I relax my throat you grab a tighter hold of me and thrust even deeper. I feel that I'm about to gag again, but manage to successfully suppress it. I can take it!

But I am not prepared for you not letting me withdraw for approximately an hour. I struggle, trying to breathe, trying to get away, desperately trying to do anything. But even though I have my hands free now, your strength outmatches mine by far. I seriously start panicking, because I don't know how far you'll take it. Suddenly the feeling of losing control is overwhelming me. Tears start glistening in the corners of my eyes and I'm afraid I cannot blink them away. Eventually you let go of me. A fine line of spit is going from the tip of your dick to my lips, and I'm too confused to care.

You have taken entire control. I was weak. I hate being weak. I loved this!

"Already drooling, are we?" you snap me out of my thoughts and back to your cock once more. This time allow me to work on your cock without guiding me. I'm doing a good job, I know very well when to nibble softly or suck hard. You close your eyes and let your head fall back, a guttural groan slipping past your lips. I cannot help it and bite playfully while sucking you, all the time eyeing you carefully. You don't like being messed with. I'm not sure whether you'll let me get away with this. "Bite harder." you seethe, catching my confused expression with an amused twinkle in your eyes. "I dare you, bite harder."

I do, leaving bite marks on your shaft. When I pull away I cannot help myself and slap your dick before you have the chance to grab my hands. "Getting frisky, mh?" you laugh, but I see that you have a hard time keeping your composure. You're not used to being the one getting roughed up.

Without warning you shoot your hand around my throat, dragging me to my feet with your fingers digging into my skin. As I stand before you, you let your height affect me on the display of power. Without my heels I am shorter than you and have to look up to meet your eyes.

Slowly you press your fingers around my throat, and the smile you have shot me subsides into a focused stare. You prevent me from breathing, your grip is too tight. I hear my own blood rush in my ears and my eyelids flutter involuntarily. Finally I have to give in to the urge to close my eyes. "Look at me. Don't you dare close your eyes again!" you whisper with that raspy tone that makes me flip my eyes open immediately -- although I already have trouble understanding you through my rapid pulse.

The muscles in your forearm flex and show your sinews perfectly. I usually love seeing this obvious display of strength and force, but right now I feel intimidated. Slowly the world around me turns a shade darker - so it seems - and I feel how my muscles become heavy and my legs give away. "Don't pass out!" you order determinedly, but I'm not sure whether I can comply. Just when I threaten to lose consciousness you loosen your grip to permit me to breathe freely again. Still, you don't remove your hand completely, but keep it loosely around my throat, always having the possibility to tighten once more if you see fit.

"Was it a bit hard to breathe, mh?" You nuzzle my neck softly as you speak, kissing your way up to my face. Our lips meet in a sensual kiss and I lay all my desperation into it. Our tongues wrestle in a battle for power, but too soon you gently cup my face to pull away. I sigh out my frustration and silently plead you not to stop. You crack a soft smile and kiss the tip of my nose. Then you hustle me backwards, lowering me onto the mattress.

Impatiently I free you from your tee shirt, admiring the tattoo art on your body. I've seen them a thousand times before, but they still manage to amaze me. Your body seems chiselled from granite, trained and strong. Lost in thought, I trace the outline of your dragon. You seem to enjoy that touch, close your eyes and sigh out. I catch you off guard, slapping your cheek semi-hard, relishing the power.

"If I was you, I'd stop that." you warn me, your voice sounding so casual that the contradiction itself sends shivers down my spine. Still, I cannot suppress the urge and slap you again.

Promptly you grab my waist and flip me around effortlessly. You press me down with your weight and I can clearly feel your erection at my hip. Your body warmth oozes into me and gives me a false sense of security. Just then you roughly pull my hips up so that you can run your cock along the length of my slippery wet slit.

A sharp tingle on my scalp makes me hiss out when your tug at my hair in order to straighten my upper body up, so I lean my back against you. You reach around me and start teasing my clit, rubbing it sweetly in a circular motion until my body is but a quivering mess. "Please..." I pant, and as soon as the word slips out of my mouth, I already regret having said it. I don't beg, damn it.

Of course you have to take the opportunity I gave you. "Please what?" you whisper close to my ear, and I can practically hear your smutty grin in your voice. I don't answer straight away though, and immediately you slow down your caresses. "No, don't stop, please, don't stop." I know I shouldn't be doing this, but I'd do anything to come by now. And you know that.

You continue stroking my clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to keep me the desperate little toy I am now, but not quite enough to give me release. I whimper, I wiggle, I squirm, and I beg. But you circle my bud just lightly, every now and then flicking it sharply.

All of a sudden though you press me down on the mattress again and thrust into me with one almighty stroke. I cry out, unable to keep any sort of composure and dig my fingers into the sheets. You pound me hard and fast, hitting my g-spot with every single god damn thrust. In fluid motions you grind into my pussy over and over again and I spread my thighs to give you even better access. Instantly you do what you love most: You bite your fingers into my skin and scrape your fingernails over my thigh. I wince and try to move my leg away, but you slap the soft flesh at the inside of my thigh with your palm. The skin changes colour to a light red and your fingers are visibly imprinted.

I bite my lip to stifle a scream that doubtlessly waits on my tongue. Soothingly you run your hand up and down my thigh and thrust your cock into me once more, before withdrawing it completely. It is coated with my wetness now, so you easily dip in a little, pull out again, dip in a millimetre deeper and pull out again. You succeed to make me entirely mad in the process, but then you pull your dick out again and slap it against my clit. I'm sure that if I can't cum now I'll die.

"Please... Why can't you just... fuck me?" I'm ridiculously pathetic to beg, because I know that you'll do the opposite, just to torment me even more. I think it's like a reflex of some sort. Immediately you yank at my hair, spin me around and press me flat on the mattress so that I'm eye level with your dick. Again you force my mouth open and press me onto your cock. You instruct me to leave my mouth open, so that you can control the pace. With your hand entangled in my hair you can slide my head back and forth on your cock. I sense that your hands tremble slightly and you let out several growls of enjoyment every time I flick my tongue against your tip.