Thanks for all of you who replied with feedback on the first chapter - so thoughtful & appreciated.
Always open to suggestions - please keep the comments coming!
jm08nyc@yahoo.com
CHAPTER TWO
"Molly-
I've met a man. And I think I'm falling for him.
I know. I know. I know.
I just got to Rome. I'm moving too fast. But, I can't help myself. I am drawn to him like I've never been drawn to anyone before - jesus christ, do I sound dramatic or what?!
He's an architect - hasn't lived in Rome very long - actually he used to live in Hackney, not far from where you are!
Anyway - just a note to say I miss you. And you must come to visit. And maybe meet David. ;)
Will keep you posted on how things go!
Xo.
James"
I was late. So late. And David was not going to be happy. He had expressly instructed me to appear early - he had something special planned. But I got caught up at work and then the taxi got stuck in traffic cutting across the city.
Regardless, I knew he wouldn't care.
I had fucked up. And I would be punished. And, more importantly than him wishing to punish, I knew I deserved to be punished.
So, I had punishment to look forward to, and probably not getting the "something special" he had suggested in his text earlier.
I knew as I jumped out of the cab and ran the last few blocks that there would be no pleasantries tonight, no "how was your day" or "you're looking handsome."
Tonight would be all about my continued devolution into his sub. And it would be all about his dominion & control over me. And it would be rough.
I ran up the stairs two at a time to his flat. I was dripping in sweat by the time I got there. Fuck. He would not be happy about that either. The door to the flat was open - his signal that I should proceed inside and present myself in his playroom.
I stripped right inside the front door, kicking it closed behind me. I momentarily glanced in the long mirror in the hall - swept my hair out of my face and surveyed my sweaty body.
David - Sir - had me working out double time the last few weeks to ensure I was in peak physical condition, and I had to admit to myself I loved the results as much as he did. The only thing I was still adjusting to was how my cock looked.
He had put it in a cage.
It ached. Strained. Hurt.
It had been a week. A week since he locked me and kept the key. A week since I had cum. At first it was arousing; then painful; then transformative as I accepted my place and his control.
I walked in the door to the playroom and didn't see him.
But I felt him. He was standing next to the door in the dark shadows and grabbed me, throwing me to the ground - thank god the floor was padded.
"You fucking worthless slut," he spat at me.
He had me face down on the floor, my arms pinned behind my back. I bucked against him.
"I'm so sorry, SIR, there's nothing I can say that will make up for it, but I am very ashamed of myself."
"Trash," was all he said.
This was going to be a long night.
He grabbed me by the hair and started pulling me further into the room, towards the tiled floor on the far side. He must have something wet in mind. I was right.
The floor was already wet. And he pushed my face down into it. His piss. It was barely warm. He must've done this awhile ago, expecting me to arrive on time.
"You know what to do pig. Every drop."
I got on all fours and proceed to start slurping up the piss - every drop that I could find sprayed across the tile floor. He quickly pushed me back onto my stomach with his boot.
"Did I tell you you could get up, slut? Do it laying down." Slut. I had quickly learned he was really angry when he called me slut.
I worked as quickly as I could. Trying to get every drop with my tongue. Desperate to show him how badly I wanted to be good.
One last drop.
His boot made contact with my stomach as I licked the last bit up. Fuck.
He pulled a chair up next to me, his boot now an inch from my face. I dare not look up at him. My cock was straining so hard against the cage. I could feel the precum puddling under me.
"Now, slut, let's begin."
Begin? What did we just do...?! Fuck.
My arms ached. My legs ached. My entire torso front and back was red. He had strapped me up, tied me with my arms held high over my head and my legs stretched wide. And he whipped me. Furiously. Back. Ass. Chest. Balls.
I was in pain. There was no doubt about it. After an hour of whipping he had left me strung up like this. He put a hood over me. I was in darkness with no idea where he was.
Suddenly. Light.
He was ripping the hood off of me.
He stood in front of me. Dressed in street clothes. He was so fucking handsome. My heart ached. I was falling for him hard. Not just physically. Not just mentally with the intense sex sessions. But emotionally. Deeply.
And then from behind his back he pulled something out.
It was a jock. It was my jock!
I had given it to him the second time we hooked-up. I had begged him to wear it, use it, and destroy it for me. Fill it with his piss and cum, so that I could wear it around with me when I went to the gym... or, went anywhere. I was so turned on my the thought of it. I couldn't jack off to the idea of it anymore, but I could finger myself furiously. And I did whenever I had the chance.
He had done it for me! He had done what I had asked. Craved.
He came close to me and brushed it against my nose. I went weak in the knees. All the scents that before I had only been able to smell on him, to taste on him, were embedded in the jock. It was so arousing. He stood squarely in front of me, looking me in the eyes.
"Slut, I am so disappointed in you. I had been impressed up until tonight. You had gone above and beyond my expectations, both in this room, in the bedroom, and in life. I am incredibly into you. Falling for you hard. But, also, I am saddened that you were late tonight."
He still had the jock in one hand. And in the other I now saw he had a pair of scissors.
No. He wouldn't.
Inches from my face he brought the two of them.
"This, slut, is what happens when you don't live up to your commitments."
And he proceeded to shred it. Destroy it.
No. No. NO.
I screamed in my head. All I could vocalize was a whimper.
I was so disappointed in myself. So sad. I had lost what I had craved because of my own stupid mistake.
"Now, I want you to think about what you've done. And what you will not get now. Because of what you've done, you worthless piece of shit."
And with that he turned and left the room.
I started crying. I was so disappointed in myself. What was I? Who was I? How did I end up in this position and what was going to happen next?
At some point I must've passed out. Exhausted physically and emotionally. He woke me up by undoing the ropes that held my hands above my head. I couldn't even feel my arms at this point.
As I adjusted to the light I could see that it was the middle of the night outside, he had opened all the windows, and he was dressed in a simple grey robe. I wonder how long he had been gone.
I practically fell over with my arms free, exhausted from holding myself up for so long.
"You're going to be okay," I barely heard him say, before my face hit the padded floor and I dozed off again only to be awoken a few minutes later with him untying my ankles. Free at last.
He scooped me up in his arms.
I'm not sure how he could do it - we were basically the same size. But somehow, his sheer power of will and control, allowed him to pick me up like a weighed nothing more than a feather.
He took me into his bedroom and tucked me into bed.
A few minutes later I could feel him slide in next to me, his naked body pressed against mine, wrap his arms around me, and fall asleep.
"David?" I said slowly, carefully as I awoke to light pouring in the windows a few hours later. He had gotten up at some point and was sitting in a chair next to the bed, watching me.
His ran his hand up the side of my cheek and brushed the curls away from my forehead.
"Good morning, handsome," he said lowly. Leaning in and kissing me on the forehead, "I have breakfast waiting for you."
He got up and walked away, leaving me laying there, reflecting on the night before and wondering what would happen next.
It was clear that we both had strong feelings for each, but I was still unsure how to navigate the combination of intense physical and mental stress and control he inflicted with the soft, intelligent emotional side that had me falling so hard for him.
I climbed out of bed, my limbs still sore from the pain of the night before, and slipped on a pair of shorts he had left laying on the bed.
I slowly crept into the kitchen and into my future.
TO BE CONTINUED?