Disobedience

Before she turned he was nearly back at his jeep. She wanted to say "No."

She wanted to say she's had enough. She wanted to call out and tell him "Please stop. Please, let's just go back to the house and I'll do everything you like and you can give me the massage I love and want and we'll make love. Gently, sweetly, with deep meaning and want and hope." Her mouth was too dry for words and her legs wouldn't obey her signals. In her hand she held the nipple rings he'd given her. "No." She whispered to them.

He drove out to the gate of the park and waited. She'd been so sure of herself and so confident. He adored that in her. He delighted in the fiestiness and

gumption. She made his chest swell when she marched right up to him and pushed close in a demand. He didn't let her close the gap, but drove off as soon as she motored up the drive.

It seemed like a meandering route, but it wasn't possible to get there via direct road. He could see her frustration on her face in the mirror and feel it as a palpable link between them. The parking lot of a nondescript building sat swathed in deep shadows, advertising the mystery within. He could feel her nervousness from his vehicle as he parked and exited.

He was at her door before she had turned the key off, opened the door, reached in, gripped her near wrist and cuffed it before she could gasp or pull away. Her nipples were clearly outlined in the low cut dress and told how she had hurriedly pushed the rings onto them. He grabbed the other hand, twining his fingers with hers as she flapped at him and tried to avoid the other cuff. Too late, she began a struggle for survival, to avoid mastery.

He stood back and let her writhe and try to wrangle out of the bindings. They were solid cuffs, not made for the half hearted play of pseudo coupled declared Doms and their wishful wanters.

She knew what the building housed. He'd threatened her with it. Teased her before. There were things inside and people there she didn't truly want to see. She believed in him. He told her he was Dom and sadistic, but he was in fact so very respectful and deliberate that she often forgot and saw him as a true love and a soul mate. Then there would come these times when she knew he was everything he said and more.

The inside was dank. Not in feel, but in atmosphere. The temperature was actually dry and warm. But dank. The ring of regulars were sipping obligatory drinks and nibbling leftover peanuts or cheap rice crackers. It was measly. Meager. She saw the crowd there as hoping for a life that never could come. They were looking for a way through the very pain they profess to crave.

One of them, an overlarge man without a sense of boundaries or control, was letting a vicious looking woman thread a needle through his skin. She thought she might cry. She knew that she deserved whatever he did to her now, but these scenes in her head came unbidden. Scenes where she was used by a string of depressive men in varying stages of impotence and violent for all that. She looked around just to see how many there might be. A quick count gave her twelve, only one of which met her eye with anything less than a leer.

One of the ongoing discussions she has with him regards the D/s lifestyle and those that seek it. The merits of the poignant and desperate intimacy and the drawbacks of the mainstream confusion with violence and lack of boundaries/self. A single male of twelve present seemed outside of that bizarre circle. Oh, and him. She looked back at the one man who hadn't leered at her brought before them in cuffs and leather collar. He was appraising her, accepting her situation. Perhaps he was wondering what she had done for this. She raised her chin and cooled her gaze. It brought a twinkle into the stranger's eyes.

Her cuffs were yanked and without preamble, she was led to the pit in the center of the room and her wrists secured to the hook that suspended there. She was suddenly fully conscious of her dress (at least the lack of cloth), her heels (overtall and too thin for support) and most of all the collar he'd put on her. Oh and the soaking wet thong that now rode up inside her butt cheeks and tugged at her groin. He did something at the side of her, out of vision that pulled her arms taut and brought her to the balls of her feet.

His hand, now unusually rough for him, reached up and bared the right nipple, hard, encircled by the ring. A gasp escaped her. An involuntary protestation of her innocence followed it: "please." She had just a glimpse of several of the leerers moving for a closer view, one of them slavering drool from the corner of his mouth. It was becoming unreal that he would do this to her. She only kept from crying by first disbelieving it was happening, then by trusting that he would at least not show the same callous disregard for her personal safety as she had earlier in the evening. She sucked in a calming breath and brought the haughtiness back to her features. She had just met the eye of the non leering gentleman when the lash bit into her tender flesh.

She whimpered and struggled. She writhed and squirmed. One after the other lashes struck her. Sharp and sudden, quick and striking. She recognized his favorite quirt as it left marks on her breast. She reduced to just whimpering when she tired and her wrists took the brunt of her slumped frame. Somewhere in her struggles, he'd bared the left breast and she found it far more sensitive, even as the right one scratched against her dress. The welts angry and tense where they pressed into the fabric.

It may have been uncounted strokes, it may have been a mere ten each breast. He finished so suddenly that she felt a pang of loss. She opened her eyes and truly saw again, having faded off as her eyes closed. The leerers were closing in, obviously thinking she would be opened up to the audience now. There, over their heads was the twinkling eyes of the only other one who understood she was taken. His. For whatever he will do to her. Whatever he will give to her. As she came around now, she saw the overbright eyes of the vicious looking woman as she licked her lips and the delighted countenances of those who wished they were standing here, in her place, tied as she was, getting the whipping she deserved.

She wished herself able to cover herself or to hold her dress down and at least show a struggle when he wrapped a belt around her waist to hold it up off her buttocks. The oglers eyes sank to her crotch without hesitation and stayed there – all but one set. Even the slash mouthed woman with the mean demeanor dropped her concern to the exposed thong covered sex. The belt felt dull and thudding at first. It must have been doubled. This time, she had enough wherewithall to count. At somewhere in the thirties, the timbre changed to a sharp sting.

Now it was the tip that was striking her flesh, biting into the tender meat. She bit her lip and refused to cry out. She deserved this and she knew it. He finished and dropped her into a slump. His arm around her shoulders, he led her out the door. She had a vague idea of the leerers starting to follow and twinkle eyes stopping them. She was leaning heavily on him as they reached the parking lot. It had been a long night and she was glad for it to be over. At the car, he led her to the back seat, the first inkling she had that the night wasn't over. That she wasn't headed for the cuddling part. When he strokes her hair and holds her and lets her know how much he values her and wants her. She was so ready for that part that being shoved into the backseat, unable to keep from sprawling over the upholstery, bottom end up, made her cry out.

He opened the other door, took her face in his hands and pushed his cock into her mouth. She took it greedily. He pushed it hard into her, making her gag and struggle to keep up. She nearly lost it when fingers dug into her rear and her sex was penetrated. One swift movement that shoved her throat to the base of his cock. A most satisfying groan and moan came from him and she shivered. The cock behind her filled her and shoved her throat up onto his. It was shoving harder and faster as she struggled and squirmed.

"Don't you fucking dare take your pleasure from this." He said. She could only whimper and squeal. With those words, she felt the familiar stirring and pressure to orgasm. Her juices were pouring down her thighs and his member was throbbing in her mouth and throat, pulsing with a desire she felt intimately. A shudder wracked her and his fingers squeezed her cheeks. "Don't." His voice so quiet and beautifully threatening, she could have wept. And cum.

She struggled against the wave that tried to engulf her. Worked to lessen the pressure of the hard length inside her. The more she squeezed or squirmed to one side or another, the more pressure she felt. She found herself unable to escape it. Unable to hide from it and the pounding increased tempo until she felt it in her ears. She squealed and shook and both cocks shot loads through her entire body.

He wrapped hands in her hair and made her head stay up. His cock wasn't wilting a bit and she had a nightmare vision of cock after cock taking her just like this. Her eyes widened and she nearly cried again with the thought that he might do that to her.

As though reading her mind, he said "You deserved this. You know that. This and more. Don't you?"

She could only mutter assent around his thickening member. "Hmmmpph."

"You should be ready to take them lined up around the block. You know they would, don't you? They'd love to get at this pretty ass and tight little pussy. They'd love to gag this beautiful throat and spray all over this gorgeous face. Next time you put yourself in danger like that, I'm not going to stop at one. Now clean his cock off and thank him properly for your nice lesson."

He moved away and twinkle eyes moved in and kissed her lips firmly before shoving a semi hard member between them. She knew what was expected now and, on firm footing at last, she excelled. Her tongue delighting in the sensations, lips nibbling and needing more. There was a thick mushroom head on this one and she played with her food gleefully.

A sense of freedom overwhelmed her. She felt such a reprieve, that everything was suddenly gorgeous and delicious. The moans coming from her benefactor sounded wonderful. There was a touch running over her buttocks that felt incredible. When it moved up her arms and undid one of the cuffs, her heart rose and she put even more into her work.

His hands took her fingers and twined them with his own. Brought them down along her sides and locked them behind her back, just as fingers yanked her hair and pulled her mouth harder onto the rod she'd been cleaning. She twisted, but to no avail. Her wrists were locked together and she felt his distinctive touch as it ran onto her ass and squeezed. Her thighs were strapped with a belt as her buttocks were kneaded and her ankles followed suit.

When his hardness entered her, she tried to scream through the cock ramming in the other end. The intensity completely took her and she feared that she would pass out when she came. "I haven't told you to cum." His gentle voice filled her and sent her shaking uncontrollably. He pulled out from her in another burst of agony and the cock in front blew up, sending gushes of volcanic liquid pumping past her tonsils.

She swallowed over and over trying to clear her airway while the hands in her hair patted and soothed. She mouthed "Thank you" in breathless parody of sound, knowing it was expected and she would pay for not doing it. But also wanting to thank and meaning it.

She was a huddled, quaking mass he pushed further onto the back seat without ceremony. "Thanks, John." His voice was casual and friendly.

"I think the pleasure was mine." The eyes twinkled as they sought hers. She felt a dribble out the corner of her mouth. "Though maybe not all."

The closing door concussed her ears and she groaned. The vibration repeated on the other side. Twice. The car started and drove. She felt leaking down her legs in addition to the trickle at the corner of her lips, and the posture was going to be difficult to hold to on the corners. She feared falling, but feared more lying down without his okay. She feared asking him and suspected he wanted her to and didn't want to give him the satisfaction either. Could she be more torn? She feared leaking too much onto the upholstery.

He took a sharp turn and decided it for her. She fell onto her side, facing the front of the car. Undoubtedly what he wanted as she could now see him and some idea of where they were headed by the corners of buildings and the shine of streetlamps. Both were thinning. They were headed out of town and her entire body felt lightened thinking of home.

All too soon, however, he took a turn. It was dark, however, without lights for some time and she could only make out trees. He pulled the car over and she felt more than heard the crunch of dirt and gravel. The door was open before she was adjusted to the cessation of movement. Hands grabbed her and forced her up to her knees. He entered her quick and hard and it made her struggle with the baldness of it. She screamed with the first sharpness of penetration, then settled into a keening sound that she thought very unlike her. He thrust hard. There was no relief for her and she felt the familiar rush swooping over her heart and down towards her groin.

"Don't you fucking dare." His voice was soft. It could have been a rustle of leaves overhead but for the words formed and dropping over her shoulders. She shivered. A full body tremor that threatened to turn into orgasm with his words. He abruptly pulled out with a groan and she felt his hot sperm spewing out over her bared ass.

The car door closed again and this time she made no effort to change position. She felt the change in herself and knew that now she was ready to beg. Ready to give in to him. Completely and willingly. That there was never a doubt she was his, that there was never doubt that she would come to this place, who would know. That she has such a need to be overpowered and brought to this place on her hands and knees is the only doubt she has now. Couldn't there be another way? Something he could do to bring her to this need and absolute surrender without such brutality? Such force.

She talks to others like her. Other subs. Some collared, some not. Some made to say "yes sir and no sir". Some who grovel and beg. She doubts their sincerity. She thinks ever "farce" when they talk of this. Yet, at this moment, she would do anything he demanded. Would she be brought here, to the same mindset if she started with humiliation and debasement first? Such harsh measures she has heard of and never experienced from him. She couldn't imagine it. She's always been proud and strong. If friends could see her at this moment, falling over on the seat, bound hand and foot, oozing fluids from every pore, they would be in utter disbelief.

He looked at her, on her side now on the backseat and smiled a knowing smile. Gentle now. Or perhaps merely calculating. She'll never know him so well as he knows her every bit inside and out. She felt a drool of liquid move into the crack between her thighs. It would be unpleasant itching but for the knowledge of where it came from. She smiled.

When he pulled into their drive, she had a twinge of apprehension that the neighbors would see her. They might wonder how she leaves the house looking like a hooker and comes back bound and trussed like a trophy. She nearly laughed aloud at the image.

She needn't have worried. He left the car, opened the door and retrieved a blanket. He covered her sweetly and gathered her in his arms. She was safe now. At last. She might go through some more trials, perhaps a rough fucking, but she was safe. She let her smile loll and reached her lips for his soft kiss.