"Does that make you feel more like a man?” I challenge.
"Yes, as a matter of fact."
"Figures."
"And how does it make you feel? Being treated like a dog?"
"Like crap, how do you think?"
"Your pussy tells a different story."
I snap shut my glistening, dripping lips.
"Bad girl! Thighs open!"
I jolt in shock. My legs come back apart in sheer reflex.
"Good girl,” he praises.
I surge with the animal heat. The man is more than sadistic; he's turning demonic.
And I am helping to create the monster.
Now I have to watch him as he takes out one of the burgers and starts to eat. Two or three bites into it he sips a soda and eats some fries. Then he takes up the burger again.
I glare. Ready to fight again. “Where the fuck is mine?"
"That's not very polite,” he chides. “Swearing at Master."
"I'm hungry,” I manage. “I want a burger."
"Better, but in all fairness pets and slaves beg for food."
He will have to work harder to get anything more out of me. “Never mind. I'm not that hungry."
The trouble is I am. The smell of cooked meat is reminding me I haven't eaten since I don't know when. Last night, I think … at the diner. Out of the corner of my eye I see Brian's guitar case. What if I hold it hostage in exchange for a burger?
"Swallow your pride, girl,” he says with a full mouth. “You're obviously starving."
Is this not the most obnoxious man on the face of the Earth?
"May I have something to eat, oh most noble highness of the universe,” I smile sweetly.
"Not what I had in mind,” he shakes his head. “I think you better try again. You're going to need your strength for the next session."
"What session?” I feel the spasms in my pussy starting in. Is this another form of training?
"The stimulation session. Time for you and the new vibrator to get good and friendly,” he grinned.
"I don't like the sounds of that, Brian."
"Why not? You bragged to me in the hospital what a slut you are."
"I meant sex with you, not a toy."
"You'll take what I give you, babe."
"I'm not your babe."
"You'll take what I give, slave."
I watch him unwrap one of the other burgers from the foil. Why does it have to smell so fucking good? “Want some?” he holds it up.
My stomach roils. “Brain, please, you know I do."
"Then beg."
"Fine, I'm begging."
"Doesn't look like it."
I move a little closer. “Please, Sir?"
"Paws up,” he coaches. “Tongue out."
My body is tingling all over. I do it; I demean myself just like the dog he wants me to be.
"Good girl.” He tears off a piece of the burger and holds it out for me to take from his fingers.
Bastard.
I would really like to bite him, but we both know I won't.
My breathing is shallow. Something is coming over … it's like the feeling of being pissed on, but more so. I know what I have to do, I know it's beneath me and I shouldn't, but I will anyway. Approaching, meekly, I take the food. I use my mouth, my teeth.
I swallow it right down. “Good girl,” he praises.
He holds up another.
I eat it.
I look up at him, whimpering for more. Piece by piece, he feeds me, petting me in between, soothing me, making me actually enjoy this at some visceral level. The total simplicity, cunt wetting and satisfying of being provided for by a man strong enough to keep me on my knees.
Is it just the unknown element here, the novelty factor or has Brian really given the S and M game a permanent new twist for me?
One thing is sure, Thomas and I are going to have a hell of a laugh over this when he gets better.
I watch Brian take out a package of French fries. My French fries.
There is no question how I will respond when he holds one up. “Here, girl."
I arch my back and lift up my lips, gently biting down on the crisp, golden potato.
He pats my head.
"Want another, girl?"
I nod … I don't dare speak, I am afraid even to breathe, I am so close to a fucking climax.
He deigns to give me another. I swallow it down. God, I'm still famished. The package disappears in a blur. He stops several times, making me lick his fingers. I suck at them, hungrily desperately. The symbolism is clear.
He tells me to thank him after all the fries are finally gone along with the burger.
"Thank you,” I rasp.
"Not like that. On your belly. At my feet."
He wants me down on the carpet. This is the most degrading thing yet and I am going to do it. I have to. We've come too far. I have to know where he will take this, I have to see how it turns out.
I get down on the floor and present myself at his toes. “Thank you…"
He pushes his foot into my face. “Not like that,” he repeats.
I suck his toes, one at a time.
Thank you…
"Enough.” He snaps his fingers. I get back on my knees.
How did I know to do that exact thing?
I must be operating on some kind of autopilot. Lord, my body is a furnace, I am so warm. Sweat covers me in a glistening sheen.
He strokes my cheek. “Are you ready?"
I nod yes, caught up in his energy, but it's a bluff; how could I possible be ready for what I have never experienced?
"On the bed, on your back, ankles apart, wrists over your head. Spread them wide."
I bite at my lower lip.
It doesn't take a genius to know how vulnerable a position that is.
It also doesn't take one to know that I am going into this position because I am Caroline, most stubborn sub in the world.
The reality of all of this should scare me, but it makes me oddly peaceful, docile. “Master, may I have a little drink first?” I ask softly.
He puts a straw to my lips, mildly surprised, I think at how eager and polite I have become. I swallow the icy cola. He doesn't hurry me.
"Thank you, Master.” I feel his eyes hot on me as I move. I'm aroused, knowing he's turned on, knowing he wants to do things to me.
As if he hasn't done enough already.
I make a calculation of the number of hours off and on we have been at it today, starting with my apartment. Brian really is insatiable, I marvel. With Thomas there are long breaks in between sex, times of friendship, business, shooting the breeze over tea and coffee.
He gives me the companionship of an older man and I know he likes to have a younger woman lust after him. I am so glad to make Thomas happy, but this is good, too.
I hear Thomas in my ear. Just say how it makes you feel.
Honestly? It makes me feel good as a woman to know I can be this wanted by an attractive younger man.
Too bad he's a sex maniac.
Then again, I've been accused of that, too.
People in the Alcoholic community hear my story and often direct me to sex addict groups. Part of Thomas’ theory about addictions-the people who live for meetings live for nothing else and sex is a threat.
I lay down on the bed, still wondering exactly what he has in mind. I push out my limbs like a snow angel; I bare my pussy. Again.
Brian grasps my ankle, encircles it in a Velcro cuff.
I pull it a little bit.
It's secured. He does the same to the other ankle. That's when I realize he's put the restraints down, under the mattress. While I was in the bathroom, presumably.
He has to partially climb on top of me to secure my wrists. A different kind of hunger overcomes me. I arch my back, reaching for him.
I gasp as his teeth clamp lightly on my nose.
I lay flat again in a hurry.
He laughs lightly. I get a lump in my throat.
Oh, that's Thomas … sheer, child-like delight.
Was he like this when he was younger? A bad boy, untempered by wisdom, by the hard knocks of life?