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Click hereFear comes in many levels and forms, but there is one uniquely terrifying format it takes; the fear of what is within one's self. It's a thinking being's fear, some might say; a fear borne of being self-aware to a detrimental degree. Once you know what you're capable of, there's no way of unknowing that little bit of information And at that moment, if you discover you're able to do something darker than you had prior thought yourself possible of even processing let alone acting upon, you're left in quite a conundrum - a conundrum which can be summed up in a single, simple sentence:
What the hell is wrong with me?
I found myself here with Babydoll. Sometimes I'd find myself gazing upon her rich caramel skin and her beautiful lips and feeling like some sort of monster. She was, and is, my dream girl personified, everything I'd ever wanted in a woman. She's feminine beauty incarnate and a friend who makes me laugh when nothing else could bring me a smile. Angels look upon her eyes and weep at the glory of it all. And still, to have the sadistic desires I do when it comes to her made me wonder if there really were a few loose screws in my mental machinations. How the hell do you look at anything, let alone a woman, that perfect and smart and lovely and think "god, I just wanna fuck it all up"?
Fortunately for me, we're of a similar wavelength.
She asked me once if her desires when it came to sadism and masochism made her some sort of irregularity, a freak of nature, and seemed sincerely distraught by it. I was stunned she'd even ask, and for a moment really couldn't respond. But when I could we'd talked about how society in general could make one feel so outside the norm that it was hard not to internalize feelings of how what we liked must be wrong, and how we'd both felt the same way every so often. That put my mind deeply at ease, because if even this glorious manifestation of power and radiance could feel insecure about her desires, I was okay with a bit of it on my own part.
It also made me realize something rather important; I was being unfair to her. I had let fear make me feel so insecure about myself I hadn't been completely honest with her. I had given her portions, pieces of me. But she deserved better than that. She deserved the true me, even the parts of me I wasn't always so beamingly proud of. She deserved the full package deal... she deserved the real me. And she deserved to know that.
I sat her down and told her as much, and she actually laughed a bit. "That's a relief..." she said, before abruptly hopping into my lap and throwing her arms around me. "I was worried for a minute there. I was here thinking there was something wrong with me, and you'd only pretended to like what I liked..."
I shook my head, sighing softly. "I just wasn't sure how far I was willing to take this..." I admitted, sighing into her neck. "You're just so damned perfect, is the problem. I didn't want to risk ruining it by showing you what I really am. Believe it or not, I was worried I might scare you away, or ruin what we have. So, I've been holding back."
I felt one of those nimble, elegantly-crafted hands caress my cheek... then grab a fistful of my hair and pull me up to lock eyes with her. I saw a glimmer of anger in her face, but mostly a stern, almost maternal look. It was that "Her Highness" look - regal, powerful, and capable of wilting stronger men than me in seconds.
"Who the hell gave you the right to do that, hmm?" she asked. I simply looked on, confused and focused on trying to keep my heart in my chest, as she continued. "Darling, men and women throw themselves at my feet daily. They beg for my affection, my attention, and offer to do horrible things in order to get it. You know that already, don't you?"
I nodded.
"And yet, even with my status as a goddess to them... I chose to give myself over to you." She sighed and took a deep breath, and her face softened. "I decided I was going to be yours, didn't I? Didn't I call to you, collapse into your embrace, and melt into your hands?" She took my right hand and kissed the back of it, for emphasis. "For me to be this mortal and vulnerable with you... it's not something I'd do if I didn't want the entire package. Good, bad, ugly, I don't care - so long as it's yours, I want it. All of it." The hand that had been gripping my hair tightly began to caress it, lightly tangling itself in the locs as she smiled softly at me. "And if you do give all of that to me... I'll give you all of me in return. And isn't that just what you want..?" she trailed, of, then leaned into my ear and whispered this final word:
"Daddy?"
I visibly shuddered as a chill shot through me like winter's wind. I felt stripped to the bone, laid bare before those beautiful dark eyes, and the wellspring of emotions I felt made it almost impossible to focus on anything. I leaned against her again and breathed in, inhaling the scent of her and letting it calm me. My eyes closed and I felt the singular focus I needed returning as the rush of thoughts reached a manageable flow. My lips latched against her neck, then made their way to her ear.
"You 'bout to fuck around and get just what you asked for, baby girl..." I growled into her ear.
She giggled and ran one hand up and down my chest, nails digging through my shirt and into the skin. "I sincerely hope so, Daddy~"
We spent at least 30 minutes after that talking about fetishes and kinks, setting up safe-words, and exchanging blushing glances and nervous laughter. I felt a strange relief, a release of excess pressure almost, from the honesty... even as I felt my mind reeling in fear that I'd go one tic too far into my kink pantheon and send her scurrying off. But she stayed, resting her head against my chest and then on my lap, countering each of mine with one of her own and then shyly looking off, sometimes muttering sheepishly with the most adorable nervousness.
"We... are fucked up," I said after a while, words accented by the type of laughter that follows realizing that you spent days worrying about something that was never a big deal.
"Yes we are!" she affirmed, raising her hand in solidarity.
"But we're fucked up together," I added, leaning over and kissing her before continuing to speak. "I prefer that, in all honesty. Better to be out of my mind with you than sane with anyone else."
"You'll make me blush, Sir," she said with a coy smile, returning the kiss with one of her own. "I agree though. Shared weirdness like this feels pretty good."
We were exhausted, emotionally speaking, so we passed the rest of the night with movies, popcorn, and a bit of booze - wine for her, beer for me. Surely enough though, by the time she was done with her first glass and I was halfway to the bottom of my second bottle, our arms began intertwining like ivy along latticework. The screen went on making noise and lights, mostly ignored, and we couldn't keep our lips or fingers off each other for very long at all.
"I want to make love to you tonight... and rip you apart tomorrow," I admitted with one hand up her shirt and the other rubbing her outer left thigh. "Is that weird?"
She paused as if contemplating my words, then nodded before running her tongue across my neck slowly. "Doesn't mean I think you shouldn't..." she chimed in after a while.
My hand slipped off her thigh and rested on the waistline of her jeans, patting her slightly-exposed stomach as I began to manhandle to soft flesh under her bra. "So... you'll be my lover tonight..." I half-said, half moaned into her ear, "my princess tomorrow morning... and my little fuckdoll by sunset?"
"Mmm... I'll be your whatever, whenever," she assured me, rubbing my cheek with one hand while the other guided mine to the fastener of her pants. "Your goddess, your queen, your depraved slut, your sweetheart - I'll be all of that, whenever you need me to be any of them. Just as long as I get to be yours... what comes after that isn't really as important."
This, I realized, is what romance sounds like for us. This is what affection is when you're a pair of equally odd and flawed beings who thrive on some mixture of affection and cruelty. A pair of switches, filled almost equally with needs for gentle and soft caresses and kisses blended in with either dealing out or receiving pain, need one another in these different ways that are difficult to understand for some. The most loving thing we could do for one another is promise to do our best to be what the other needed when they needed it.
I thought all of this but the words wouldn't form in my mouth right - they felt superfluous, misshapen. I couldn't say anything poetic or deep at that point because the combination of a dizzying state of enamored feelings blended with a pulse-quickening lust made my head too foggy for formation of formulaic nouns and verbs meant to convey such complex ideas as this. I simply pulled her tighter against me, a rich bolt of pleasure shooting through me as I drew a gasp from her followed by a plaintive and mewling little moan.
"You are mine," I said finally.
She melted into my arms and slid my hand under the waistband of her panties. "Say it again?" She pleaded wistfully with half-closed eyes.
"Mine." My voice found it's base notes again as I began to lightly grind my fingers against her sex, feeling the moisture level already there clinging to my fingers. She bucked up to meet them with enthusiasm, groaning long notes into the collar of my shirt even as her hands awkwardly fumbled with the bottom of it, trying to lift it up from an odd angle.
"Mine," I repeated, rolling her nipple across my palm.
"Mmmmph..."
"Mine." The fingers against her pussy began to move a bit faster, focusing on her clit.
"Nnngh..!"
"Mine." I yanked her back firmly, teeth bared a bit as she managed to exposed my chest and begin dreamily kissing and licking at it.
"Haaaah...!"
I pressed my middle and ring finger into the squeezing little passage, feeling those lower lips trying to suck me in, then aimed up and strummed at her g-spot like I was playing the notes of a base guitar before repeating, once more and more sternly than ever:
"Mine."
"Yessss..." she hissed out through clenched teeth, Literally clawing at me as she tried to get a better angle and face closer to me. "I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm fuckin' yooooursssss... Oooh, fuuuuuck..."
"Fuckin' cum for me then..." I instructed, nipping softly at her ear. "Look at me, show me that pretty little o-face... I earned that, so fuckin' show it to me..."
She nodded slightly, trying her best to be a good girl and maintain eye-contact as she careened towards orgasmic bills. I swear, I could watch that woman cum for the rest of my life and never get bored.
I let her milk my fingers for a bit as she came, still lightly rubbing her clit and g-spot as she shuddered into her orgasm, then slipped my fingers free and licked them clean.
"Too... fast..." she whimpered, a bit out of breath. "Why'd you make me cum so soon?"
"First of many, I assure you..." I replied, picking her up without warning and carrying her off to the bedroom. "We'll see how many it takes before you lose your voice."
"Meanie." She said this with her arms and legs wrapped around me, and right before kissing me like she was trying to steal all the air from my lungs. We both knew what she meant by it. And as I tossed her onto the bed and took off what was left of my shirt, she giggled and started stripping without a word of prompting.
"If we're just lovers tonight..." she said softly, "then I can play a bit more aggressively, can't I?" I blinked, shirt still around my head, as I was suddenly pinned against the wall. There was a rushing sound as my bet was yanked off and tossed across the room, then my pants being undone and unzipped. "You always put so much emphasis on making me cum... and then you get all stingy with your own orgasms? Hardly fair." I was starting to protest, but then she was gazing up at me with those gorgeous dark eyes of hers and half my cock shoved down her throat. I couldn't help but groan and just let my shirt fall away, letting her do as she pleased.
"You really... think I'm stingy?" I managed between stifled grunts as she slid her pretty lips and tongue up and down the length of me teasingly slowly, taking special care to flick at the tip.
"With this?" She asked, stroking my cock for emphasis. "Absolutely. Sometimes a girl just wants to make her man cum until he can't cum anymore... and that goes double for girls like me." She kissed the head of my cock and smiled at me. "I mean, look at this thing... always so happy to see me, always making me feel so good, so full... I wanna be nice to it, show my gratitude."
"... And you want to be face-fucked like a dirty little slut from time to time," I added, managing a smile. "I got it, I got it. I'll work on being more accommodating..."
My words trailed off as she grabbed the back of her own head and began forcing herself down on my shaft until she gagged and choked. She kept strict eye contact with me, but now with an air of defiance, almost threatening. It was as if she was saying, without speaking, that yes, I would be more accommodating in the future to her needs in this manner, or she would simply take what she needed.
Normally, I'm not a big proponent of receiving head. But something about this was just too hot for words. The enthusiasm, the roughness, the warmth of her tongue and the knowledge she was literally causing herself discomfort strictly for my pleasure... it appealed to me for the obvious reasons. I bucked my hips in time with her motions, letting her fuck my dick with her mouth as I mostly groaned and took it like a good boy for once.
She let it slide out of her mouth with a long, wet 'pop' that resonated in the room. "Mmmph... fuck that's big..." she whispered, almost reverent like this on her knees. "See, now I'm all out of practice..."
She was stroking my cock viciously as she said this, so I didn't bother to ask if she wanted to stop despite voiced discomfort. I knew better - my girl was on a mission, and nothing was going to stop her except success, however she chose to define. It actually made me a bit nervous. She brought her tongue to my balls and rolled it across them, suckling and caressing them until I literally grabbed the wall behind me to keep myself standing. I couldn't really get a good gauge on her facial expression with the angle and all... but I'm fairly certain she was smiling.
"Fuuuuuck..." I managed out at last, caressing her hair a bit. "Forgot how good you are at that..."
"Mmm, does my mouth really feel that good~?" she teased, still stroking as she looked up at me. "I'm so glad you like it... Because I don't plan to stop until you bust like a fire hydrant in July, got it?"
I nodded. As if I had a choice.
I knew she could be forceful - Babydoll was always good at that. But I'd never experienced something quite like this. She was literally taking me, fucking me with her mouth, grabbing my thighs when I started to move and holding me in place or using them for leverage to try and shove me deeper into her milking, ready throat. I was on the edge of exploding much sooner than I'd expected, and as she felt my cock twitching inside her mouth she dug her nails into my stomach as if daring me to move. I'm not sure if it was the commanding nature, the single-mindedness, the pain or some combination of them all... but I practically howled like a coyote as I came with nowhere for it to go but down. I felt like I was emptying myself into her, like I was being drained... and it may sound cliché but I swear when she kept sucking as I came, I left my body for a few seconds. By the time she decided she was done with me I felt a bit light-headed and whatnot still... but I wasn't about to be outdone.
She was still wiping her mouth with a self-satisfied grin when I grabbed her ankles and put her in a pinning position, thighs up by her head. She struggled, albeit playfully, before I began furiously lapping at her sex through her panties. From there, her resistance went from token to nonexistent... and when I moved the red lace to the side with just my teeth and tongue and assaulted her clit in earnest, she couldn't really do much but shudder and whimper out my name. I heard her mumble 'oh shit, oh shit," repeatedly to herself, her thighs starting to quiver, as I switched tactics and ran my tongue up and down her lips. I smirked down at her and winked, then proceeded to bury my face and tongue inside her pussy, take a deep breath through my nose... and begin to hum whilst moving it about as if I were speaking a Spanish word with 20 or more rolling 'r' sounds.
"Shit, shit, Goooood DAMN you!!" she shouted out, grabbing a handful of my hair and pulling me forward as if afraid I would pull away. But I had the opposite plan - when she began to cum I kept on going... and going... and going... until she was slapping the floor with one hand and yanking her hair with the other. She finally begged for mercy and I whipped her juices into my chin whilst chuckling and smacking her ass.
"Turnabout-" I started to say, only to be silenced by her bolting upright and kissing me again.
The rest was something of a blur. We never quite made it over to the bed, though at one point she was gripping the frame... it was a passionate series of groans and primal noises of pleasure as we rolled around on the floor, moving into whatever position struck out fancies or gave us a better angle to caress each other. For the first time since I lost my virginity, I had no "order" in mind for positions; it was all just passionate gripping and kissing, groping and biting, rug burn on the knees and curse words uttered with the fervent ritualistic sanctity of Hail Marys and Our Fathers. Time meant nothing. We stopped counting out orgasms. Her name was the only thing on the back or front of my mind.
We slept together on the floor, a writhing tangle of limbs coated in sweat and love juices, heaving and sighing as we stared up at the ceiling. After all the rope play, the sex toys, the controlled spanking sessions, and all the other kinkiness... something felt more powerful about this relatively kinkless night of passion.
She dragged a blanket off the bed and over us both, then curled her head to my chest and mumbled cutely.
"You're perfect, Babydoll."
She nodded. "Just for you, Sir."
"I meant what I said. I'm gonna be more honest with you. More myself, just with you, from here on out." I sat up a little, rubbing her cheek. "It may take a while... but I'll try."
"All I ever wanted," she replied. "And if tonight's any indication... it's going to be fun."
I chuckled a bit, then kissed her forehead.
"I meant what I said too, y'know," she added. "Long as I'm yours, the second part doesn't matter."
"I don't plan on letting you go."
And with that, we just sort of drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other's arms. I'd never felt more exposed and secure at once in one night... which is just how it felt when you knew you found someone or something very special.
I totally disagree with the previous commenter. Love this story, it's well written and builds beautifuly. Love the intimacy and intensity of the relationship described.
YAWN, I think that is the most boring story I have ever read on this site.