12 Nights of Submission

November 1997

In college, I lusted after one guy for three years. His name was Jonathon. He was an arrogant bastard knowing he was God's answer to most girls' wet dreams. Naturally beautiful, his features would have almost been feminine if not for his broad jaw and constant stubble. A long tussle of light brown hair always swung down over dark brows and thick lashes. His piercing green eyes crinkled at the edges when he flashed his classic lopsided grin. At parties, I'd watch him approach other girls. They all wore that surprised and satisfied look in their eyes when he would lean down to whisper sweet nothings into their ears. I want that look. I wanted him.

Unfortunately, I was one of his best friends. We had met our freshman year after I had a short and forgettable relationship with a guy in his band. As an ambassador, he had showed up one morning on my doorstep. One long muscled arm stretched up against the frame, he'd given me that same cocky smile. He had kind of reminded me of Stephen Baldwin. I had let him in for coffee even though I hadn't taken his friend back.

He seemed fascinated by my lifestyle choices and how normal I seemed, as he would say. The more I explored my agressive side, the more he seemd to come around. Sometimes, he'd show up unannounced on Saturday nights. If I didn't have company, then we'd watch movies. He'd joke and ask who I had beaten that day. I never answered. I'd just laugh enjoying his curiosity and waiting for him to ask. If I did have company, I suspected he stuck around listening to the noise. When I'd hear his knock at the door, I'd always hit, twist or pull harder making my company grunt or groan. I knew he could hear us. Though, he never let me know either way.

It started the night before Christmas break our junior year. I ran into him at a frat party. His band had been playing a few sets. He had drunk too much and was sitting on the front stoop when I arrived. It was late. The wind was cold. His lips were turning blue from wearing only a t-shirt in the snow. Seeing him, I knew his friend, my ex, was in the house and I didn't want a scene. Also, I couldn't let a drunken friend freeze to death. So, I decided to take him back to my house rather then asking his roommates for assistance.

Pulling his arm around my neck, I helped him stumble to my car. His six foot two frame was hard to maneuver. His cologne choked me as he smothered me in a clumsy hug. His large hands roamed my body wildly before I shoved him into the passenger seat. Aroused and disgusted, I slammed the door.

In the car, he began to provoke me.

"You know you want me?" he murmured running his hand up my thigh. "I see it in your eyes, baby."

"You are a sloppy pathetic drunk," I shot back striking his hand with a single solid blow. "You are lucky I didn't just let you die of hypothermia."

"That's what you are into, isn't?" he joked pinching at my breast. "You want to hit me some more don't you? Why don't you spank me? I've been a very naughty ..."

"Shut the hell up," I screamed slamming on the brakes of my car. His head was thrown into the windshield. Then, he was tossed back into the seat with a shocked look on his face. For a moment, he seemed to sober up at the blow to the face. He stared at me as I shoved my finger into his nose.

"Do not EVER fucking touch me again without my permission. You hear me. I will not continue to tolerate your disrespectful behavior. You will sit back in that GOD DAMN seat. You will fasten that seat belt, and you will keep your hands to yourself or I will cut your filthy little fingers off one by one. You hear me?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said slightly dazed.

He snapped his seatbelt and stared out the window quietly the rest of the way to my apartment. When we got to my place, he walk to the door by himself with his shoulders slumped over sulking. Inside, I could feel his eyes on me. I walked straight to the back of the apartment to the bathroom to wash my face. There was something different about the way he looked at me tonight. Some people need an excuse their first time. It seemed he wanted to use alcohol. I wasn't going to let him, I thought, as I brushed out my long auburn hair. A soft knock sounded at the door. I could hear him breathing against the other side of the wood. He sounded nervous.

"What?" I snapped.

"I need to piss," he responded quietly. "Please."

"Piss outside like the rest of the animals, asshole."

His steps retreated from the door. I could here the sliding glass on move on the tracks in the distance as he pulled it open. He was obeying.

Pulling off my sweater and jeans, I unsnapped my bra while looking into the full length mirror hanging on the back of the bathroom door. My breasts were soft and full with areolas the size of half dollars. The cool air made my nipples contracted into hard pink knots. I pushed the round alabaster mounds together into gorgeous cleavage while puckering my lips. The promise of the night made the gold in my hazel eyes glitter. I liked the way my reflection had looked.

Running my thumbs over the tips of the erect nubs, chills spread down my back making my pussy contracted with anticipation. I dropped my hand shoving down my white cotton panties. My slit watered under the lush natural red curls of my bush. I could still feel the heat on my palm from striking him. It was warm and slightly stung. Sitting one foot on the bathroom counter, I stuck two fingers of the heated hand in my hole. I leaned my other shoulder on the door to the right of the mirror. I wanted to watch myself cum.

I touched the swollen wetness. I thought about smacking his pretty face as my fingers worked my cunt steadily. My beautiful pussy was spread like an exotic flower. The center was dark pink almost a red that faded into a light pastel on the edge of the lips. The two fingers glistened with my juices. I wanted to break him. I wanted to make him moan, crawl and beg for me. My insides were a silky, soft heat the enveloped my long digits. I massaged the swollen fleshy ceiling pad of my channel. Catching my clit with my thumb, I stroke the cartilage upward while plunging my fingers deeper. The friction built pressure pushing against my bladder. My pussy was hot thinking about him, thinking about forcing his head into my snatch and smearing his face in it. A soft squishing sound echoed off the tiles.

Weak, my forehead pressed forward into the mirror. Eyes closed. My nipple grazed the cool glass. My arm jerked. It hammered against me. An imaged flashed of Jonathon's virgin back taking the first lash. The cool glass pressed into my cheek. The tension built in my cunt. I could see his green eyes sparkling with pain and lust. So, fucking wet, my cunt dripped. I visualized him on his knees before me. God, I was going to fucking explode. I'd make him suck my clit. My fingers went deeper and deeper. That little bitch would lick my ass. My thumb ground and crushed. His tongue buried deep in my asshole. Sticking a finger in my sphincter, I felt something inside me release. Hot lava flowed down my leg. My cunt ejaculation sprinkled the mirror. It washed down my thighs while I smeared it over my belly. I trembled with relief.

After a moment, I gathered myself and reached up for the worn out hockey jersey hanging on a peg. Then, I slipped back on my panties. I looked back into the mirror and winked. No shorts tonight. I wanted to prance in front of him. I'd let him smell my cunt and make him go to bed hard. I'd make him dream about this pussy tonight. He could start his training in the morning when he was sober.

Coming back into the living area, I saw he had passed out on my couch. He laid stretched out face down and shirtless. Smooth olive colored muscles teased me with their flawless form and shape. Exhaling, I grabbed him by the wrists and started tugging on him. Slowly, I managed to pull him into the vacant second bedroom. His head would roll and he would moan as I undressed him the rest of the way. Pulling him over the iron rails, I was surprised he never woke up. He did not even stir as I tied his wrists to the empty bed frame or positioned the boards to properly elevate him. He must have had a lot to drink. After I finished placing the tarp under the bed posts, I turned out the lights and went to bed.

The next morning, I woke up early not bothering to change my clothes and went in to check on my guest. He still slept soundly. His breathe was even and steady with no signs of waking. So, I grabbed the orange bucket from the corner of the room and took it to the bathroom. Filling it with cold water, I returned to the room and tossed it across his stretched out nude body. His eyes flew open startled letting out a curse. Confused, he yanked at his bindings only making them tighter and the veins in his forearms protrude.

"What the fuck?" he eyes were wide like cow's.

"You need to learn how to treat Lady," I replied walking into his view.

"You are shitting me, right?" he grinned with humor in his voice. "You wouldn't play with me like this?"

"Oh really?"

He laughed at me. His smug behavior didn't surprise me. So, I turned my back and walked out of the room. I took my time collecting my toys. I wanted to give him time to absorb the colorless room, to really see the yellow rope tightly knotted at his wrist and ankles and to wonder what was out of his line of vision. 15 or 20 minutes passed when I heard the sounds of him shaking the bed rails. I could feel his anxiety as I crept back to the door. His body jiggled and contorted obscenely trying to break free. The fear in his beautiful face made me feel drunk. I pushed open the door and strutted in the room.

"Untie me," he demanded.

"No."

"What do you have in your hand?"

"I like my things tidy."

The color ran out of his face when he saw the straight razor flick open in my hand. I turned it slowly for his inspection. The clean steel twinkled from the morning light.

"I am going to shave you," I instructed. "Be still. We wouldn't want my hand to slip."

Crouching down between his legs, I set down the razor and a shaving kit. I hummed pulling out and arranging the cream, towel and aftershave. When I pressed down on the button of the shaving cream, the hiss of the foam sent him into hysterics.

"Don't fucking touch me with that!" he screamed. "PLEASE, Don't do this. I am sorry. Please don't. STOP! NO! I'll do whatever you ask. Just don't do this to me. PLEASE... STOP!"

I smirked at the fear in his voice. His begging made me hot and I felt my nipples push out against the inside of my shirt. They itched to be touched. I wanted to reach up and flick the imposing nubs, but I needed to concentrate. Gripping his balls with one hand, I pushed the edge of the razor's handle against his scrotum crease.

"Be still," I spoke softly to him. "One slip and I might empty your sac."

He went ridged and silent. Acknowledging his surrender, I released his balls and picked up his cock. I held him by the base firmly. Then, I took one tight stroke down the right side of his pubic area. The hair split free from his skin collecting in the white foam on the razor. Wiping the razor clean on the towel, I glanced up to see his eyes locked on the ceiling and his jaw clenched ready for pain.

"Now, isn't that better?" I cooed

"Please stop," his voice trembled.

"But we only just begun."

I continued to shave him with smaller strokes. Occasionally, I'd knick him on purpose to see him jump. When I was done, I put down the razor and wiped his cock down with a hand towel. The smooth skin was shining in the overhead light. So, I splashed some aftershave into my hand and patted it over the area. He jumped and spat with shock. Then, as I continued to work his cock he settled back docile. His erection had grown into respectable 8 inches with each burning stroke. Turning his head away from me, his humiliation and desire mixed in the air. I could not resist. I fondled his swollen prick until it was solid rock. Crawling up like purple vines, his veins puffed up begging to be licked. A single drip of pre-cum collected at the tip. He moaned softly arching up his hips slightly.

"What are you doing?" I hissed smacking him hard across the stomach as I rose from between his legs.

"Don't stop..."he begged.

"You're like a mongrel dog desperate for any hole," I chastised. "You disgust me. Look at that silly small cock. Who would want to fuck with that? You are so pathetic."

A seductive red blush colored his cheeks as he opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out.

"Your mouth is gaping like a retard. You a moron?" I laughed not missing a beat. "Look at the little retard who wants someone to play with his tiny prick."

Pulling off my panties, I stepped around the side on the frame to squat down beside his face. My cunt spread wide for him to look inside me. His eyes roved over my pussy and the blush faded. His pupils dilated as his cock jumped back into the air. Seeing his nostrils flare, I knew he was inhaling my musky scent. I smoothed a lock of silky hair away from his temple. Leaning forward, I gently kissed his top lip. My tongue slipped out to glide across his lip. Slowly, he kissed me back. His tongue wrestled mine filling my stomach with butterflies. His kiss was deep and strong. Catching my breath, I leaned back to look into his eyes. They were so filled with intense emotion. I shook my head slowly trying to get back my senses. He disarmed me with his passion and the depth of desires he provoked.

"Tell me if you want me to stop now," I whispered into his ear, "or I will be forced to break you completely."

"Please, show me your world."

He lowered his eyes. My heart jumped into my throat at the ease in which he submitted. So long, I had waited. My lack of patience challenged my self-restraint. I grabbed his jaw and wretched open his mouth. Stepping over him, I knelt with my thighs framing his face. Then, I lowered my slick mass of ruby curls into his mouth. The curve of his chin pressed into my clit as his nose buried into my ass.

"Lick it."

His hot tongue pushed into my cunt. It was thick and determined lapping me eagerly. He was skilled and seemed to be enjoying the service too much. I pushed down harder on his face. Grinding my clit against his chin, it smarted from the stubble rubbing me raw. His chest was so lovely and smooth. I ran my hands down his pecks while smothering him with my cunt. I could feel his excited heartbeat on my palms. Digging in my nails, I tore the flesh in eight uneven scratches up the length of him. He bit into me as a reflex before relaxing. The pain was absolutely exquisite.

"Enough with my pussy," I directed. "Lick my ass. Do it like you need it. Show your Goddess how you'll service her. Tongue deep in the hole. I want you to taste my shit."

His tongue pushed into my sphincter. The band squeezed back before spreading to let him into me. He licked and lapped so obediently. He was hunger to please me. His body flexed and tensed trying to dig deeper. The reality of Jonathon tongue fucking my asshole was overwhelming. My orgasm came quick and hard at the conquest. The juices ran down his chin and throat. His skin glistened with my love. Turning my attention down from his chest to his erection, I watched it bob and wave in the air as he continued to eagerly clean my core waiting for my next instruction.