Just Curious Ch. 05

Marcus instinctively knows when I'm getting close. He stops fingering me and slides his hand up and down my spine in an attempt to calm me down. My leg drops down and hangs like the other one. He's cooing in my ear. Telling me how good I've been. How proud he is. I just dangle helplessly from my wrists. I am exhausted, frustrated, horny as all hell, and for some strange reason, I'm content. I can't move anymore, this man is towering over me and controlling me, and he's happy. I'm not sure why that's become important to me, but it has.

Marcus kisses me "Hang tight, girl. I'll be back in a few seconds." With a mischievous grin, he slaps my breasts a few times and disappears behind me. Men are dorks. I want to turn around to see what he's up to, but I'm too tired to attempt the maneuver, and I'm also fairly sure Marcus doesn't want me to move. So I hang there, listening to any sounds that might give me a clue as to what's going to happen next.

The next part is kind of fuzzy. I remember Marcus coming back into view, then complete and total panic washes over me. I remember thinking I'm going to die. Then everything gets hazy.

When I start to focus again, I'm laying on the tile floor. Marcus is lying on top of me, one hand entwined in my hair, the other covering my mouth and closing off one nostril. "Deep breaths. Come on girl, breathe deep." He removes his hand from my face and I gasp in several deep breaths. He's trying to kill me. I grab his hand and try to scratch his face but he easily blocks me and holds me down.

"Calm down. Come on, I need you to take deep breathes. Don't fight me. Come on, girl, calm down. Calm down." I'm hyperventilating. Somewhere in the fog of fear and panic I know I'm hyperventilating. I try to take a deep breath, but I can't. I'm gasping again. My chest hurts. My wrists hurt. I'm going to die. Marcus covers my mouth again. My eyes lock on his. I can see his lips moving, but I don't hear anything he's saying. He looks scared too.

It seems like an eternity, but it's probably only a few seconds before Marcus tells me to breathe again. My hands are wrapped around his wrists as I gasp in a large lungful of air. I try to hold it in for three seconds; more of an exercise in control than anything else. I take another, and another. Marcus is looking down at me; telling me I'm safe, telling me to breathe and telling me I'm a good girl. I take another deep breath and Marcus smiles down at me and he kisses my forehead.

"What? What happened?" I try to move, but nothing responds.

"You had a panic attack. You started kicking and screaming so I released you and tried to calm you down. How are you feeling?" We're both on the floor, but he holds me in his arms as he's talking to me.

"Scared. Confused. My head hurts. I can't stop shaking. My wrists hurt." I blurt out anything and everything. "What happened?"

"Have you masturbated since Dustin played with you?" What? Where did that come from? If it wasn't for his tone of voice I might have started laughing.

"That's none of your business." I try moving again. This time my limbs respond slowly, but Marcus pulls me into his lap.

"You are mine for this week, remember. Everything about you is my business. Now answer the question."

"Yes, I have masturbated since then."

"Did you use toys? A vibrator or dildo specifically." His voice is still calm, like this is the most natural conversation in the world.

"No, I achieved satisfaction manually." The sarcasm was dripping off every word. What does this have to do with anything?

Marcus just sits with me for a few minutes, rocking gently. It's relaxing, so I just stay cradled in his arms. Still not quite sure what's going on. "So, do you like Band-Aids pulled off quickly, or slowly?"

I think I might be getting used to these random, bizarre questions. "Quickly. Why?" I turn to look up at him. He just looks me in the eye.

"I want you to know that you are completely safe. No harm will come to you." My heart skips a beat, probably several beats. Something 'not good' is going to happen. I just know it.

Marcus reaches behind him and I hear something dragging across the tile. He repeats that I'm safe and slowly drags the item into view. At first glance, it looks like a microphone, a black handle with a black sphere on top. It's a ... a ... a vibrator! My body jolts and I try to claw my way out of Marcus' grasp. "No no no no. Please, please don't put that inside me. Please. Please no no no no." I'm panicking again, gasping for breath.

Marcus holds me tighter, turning us away from that thing. "Sshhhh. You're safe. You're mine. I won't hurt you."

I'm shaking in his arms, my face buried in his chest. "What's wrong with me?" I'm concentrating on my breathing. Inhale, count to three, exhale, count to three, repeat.

"You've been through a traumatic experience. There were bound to be residual effects; personality changes, irrational fears, etc. I think we just found one." He turns my head around so I'm looking at him again. He brushes my hair out of my face, and I suddenly feel safe.

I try to think. What vibrator did Dustin use on me? Then it just pops into my head. "Big Blue? He put that thing inside me. It felt like it was there forever. I couldn't get it out. I tried. I tried everything . I couldn't get it out."

He nods. "I believe so, yes." He pets my hair again. "You're mine. I won't let anything bad happen to you. I will keep you safe. But right now, I need you to look at the massager." I feel the panic start to boil again, but just looking at his face, seeing the strength in his eyes, drives the fear away.

"Just look at it?"

"To start with, yes, I'd like you to just look at it." He waits as I roll that suggestion around in my head. I wasn't scared of vibrators before. What else is going to set me off? I don't like the idea of random panic attacks as I walk down the street. I feel so safe curled in his lap. I nod my head yes. I'll do it.

Marcus leans forward and I hear the thing dragging on the floor again. I bury my face in his chest again. He seems so powerful. He smells so good. I feel safe here. He sits back up, holding me gently, and just waits for me to do what he asks.

I tell myself I'll count to ten and then look. It'll give me time to prepare and distract my mind by counting. Good plan, right? Not so much. I count to ten, and then just sit there. I can't make myself look. Marcus is just waiting, letting me do this myself. Ten and look. You can do this. Deep breath. Ten and look.

This time it works. Marcus moved to vibrator right in front of us, so I couldn't miss it. It's just lying there, looking like an ominous black microphone. A shiver takes hold of me, but I don't start to hyperventilate. I hear a soft voice from above me. "Good girl. Very good. I want you to touch it. It won't hurt you. You're safe. I won't let anything bad happen to you. So strong and beautiful. Just place your fingertips on it."

My eyes don't leave the ominous object as Marcus tells me what he wants me to do next. He says I'm strong, but panic attacks are scary things to go through. I wasn't in control of my body; my legs, my arms, my breathing, even my thoughts were out of my control. I watch, almost from a daze, as my arm reaches out, my finger slowing searching for the object of my fear. Marcus is calming me with his hands and his soft, strong masculine voice. The vibrator, I think he called it a 'massager', rocks slightly as my fingers make first contact. I snatch my hand back and my eyes dart to Marcus. He's my rock.

He gently smiles down at me, I'm still cuddled naked in his lap. "You're doing great. I'm so proud of you. It won't hurt you. Touch it again for me. I know you can do it. I know how strong you are. Go on, touch it again."

I look back at the thing lying not-so-innocently on the ground. I reach out again, and my fingers aren't trembling as much as last time. My fingertips glance against the object and it stirs silently. I hesitate a second, then touch it again. This time my fingers rest on massager.

I'm still afraid, but it's not the all-encompassing life-sucking fear that hit me square in the chest before. It just lays there and I roll it back and forth with my fingers. Marcus slides his hand up to my breast and starts gently fondling it as I'm focused on the massager.

"Pick it up." It's the deep ethereal voice that washes over me; commands me. Without thinking I pick it up by the non-microphone end, it's heavier than I thought it would be. Marcus is cooing above me, telling me how good I am. He leans forward and slowly takes my wrist, guiding my hand until the massager is resting between my breasts. My breath hitches as the cool hard object touches my skin.

"Sshhh. You're fine. I won't let anything hurt you." We let the thing rest between my tits. My eyes are on Marcus as he strokes his hands up and down my body. "Just breathe. You're doing wonderful. Keep your eyes on me. Nothing will hurt you, I swear."

We sit like this for I don't know how long. His gentle stokes are calming me. His soft words are comforting me. I am safe and warm cuddled in his lap. Until Marcus pushes for a little bit more.

He places his hand over mine. His eyes locked on mine. "I'm going to turn it on now. I want you to keep your eyes on me. Do you understand?" The voice again. My mouth goes dry, but I nod. I'm scared, but I feel safe at the same time.

Marcus moves my hand to my side so it rests on his knee momentarily before my hand drops lifelessly to the floor. I feel his hand return to my chest; more specifically to the object resting on my chest. Everything in me is shouting to watch what he's doing, but my eyes remain locked on him.

My whole body jumps as he turns it on. The vibrations against my skin travel through my breasts into my nipples. The buzz it makes envelopes me. I can't breathe. I can't do this. Marcus moves quicker than me and places his free hand over me eyes, blinding me. "Breathe. Just breathe. I will keep you safe. You are safe here." He uncovers my eyes and I gaze into his strong beautiful face. I whimper escapes my lips.

"Sshhh You're safe here. I'll keep you safe. You're mine! I won't let anything bad happen to you. You're safe." My body jolts as he starts sliding the massager down between my breasts and onto my belly. I keep my eyes on his as he watches the device gliding over my bare skin. He sees my puckered nipples and the twitching in my belly as it circles my navel. He keeps talking to me softly. My arms and legs feel limp as my chest and belly are primed to explode at the least provocation.

He slides the massager back up my torso and lets it lie between my breasts again, buzzing and vibrating. His eyes are again searching mine as his hand slide down my belly and cup my mound. I can't keep the gasp from escaping. Slowly he slides his fingers between my folds, his thumb playing with the short coarse hairs topping my mound. My mind is completely blank. The sensations Marcus is giving me are my entire world. I've said the words many times before, but this is the first time I actually felt what they mean: fuck toy.

I'm his fuck toy. I'm his to use.

I'm gazing up at his strong dark beautiful face and I know this is where I belong. My neck is sore from holding it up so long. I let it drop back onto his thigh, exposing my neck to him. One arm is behind him, resting on the floor. The other arm is still lifeless on the floor by his knees. My legs are spread open and draped over his right thigh.

My body is completely open to him. I'm his. I close my eyes and let the sensations wash over me. His fingers are slowly sliding in and out of my pussy. I can feel how wet I am. How ready I am.

I don't even twitch as his fingers leave my core. He's moving the massager again, sliding it down my body. I know where it's going. My breathe hitches, but I make no move to stop him. I'm his.

I feel the massager buzzing down my body, but it can't prepare me for the feel of it pressing against my clit. It's so fast and powerful, more than anything I've ever felt before. I inhale sharply and my back arches up. In an instant it moves on, sliding through my folds and eventually buzzing against my anus. My body twitches again.

He repeats this again and again. I get closer and closer to my climax with every pass. With my eyes close, I'm surrounded by darkness. The only sounds are the wet buzzing sound and my panting. The smell of sex is blanketing us, my sex.

When I was with Dustin, it was like a deep dark hole. There was a primal need to please him. I don't understand it myself, but I felt my only way out was by scrambling to give him more and more until I had nothing left to give.

This feels different. This is almost calm. I'm his. He's going to do what he wants and it makes me ... happy? proud? content? I'm not sure those are the right words, I'm not sure there is a right word. This just feels right. I'm his. This is where I belong.

Marcus switches off the massager. I was so close, but deep down I knew he wouldn't let me cum. He told me he wasn't going to let me cum and I'm his to do with as he wants.

His hand is stroking down my neck, and he's talking softly to me. The thought pops into my head again that I don't know this man. Jared knows him, probably from the club. He was a member of the club before I started working for him. Maybe his attachment to the club is stronger that his friendship with me? No one knows where I am, except Jared and this man using me. It's a sobering thought.

"Are you going to kill me?" My voice is soft and even. I'm not scared. I just asked a simple question.

"No, I'm not going to kill you. I won't hurt you. You're safe here." He keeps stroking my skin; my neck, my chest, my thighs, my belly.

"Am I going to die?" I feel like I'm not attached to my body.

"No, you're safe with me. I'll keep you safe. Shhh now, just relax."

I sit there quietly for a while. "Why won't you let me cum? Why don't you want me? I think I'm going to ... something. I don't know, just something. I can't think anymore."

Marcus sits there a while, still stroking my body. It looks like he's thinking about the question, or maybe he's thinking about his answer. When he's ready he places a hand behind my neck and lifts my head so I can see him. He looks down at me with soft caring eyes, completely at odds with the words he speaks next. "I've wanted you since the first time I saw you in the video. Your beauty, your height, your strength, your natural submission, and you reaction to pain are all very sexy to me. I've wanted to bind you and pound your helpless little pussy since I wrestled with you on your bed. But this week is about you, and you learning about submission or I'd have been balls deep in you several times already." I watch as he slips his fingers in his mouth, moistening them

"As for the why I haven't fucked you yet." Here his voice gets soft, almost sad. "I need to break you first. Just a little bit."

For some reason, I start giggling. "I feel pretty broken already." I'm actually completely fucked-up right now. How much more broken can I get?

Marcus smiles a little too. "You've been strong and independent for a while. I need to get you to a place where you depend on me. When I tell you to do things, you analyze them first, deciding whether to do them or not. That's not your job. I decide whether they're safe. I decide the where and the when. You just need to let go and do them. Unfortunately I only have a week with you, and the fastest way to break someone without it being permanent is deprivation. "

"Deprivation?"

"I'm depriving you of your release. You're a natural submissive some times, but not others." He slips a finger back inside my pussy. "With a few words or touches you naturally revert into a submissive attitude, but other times your independent streak shines through. I need to break that streak just a little bit. You body follows strength, but somewhere you mind started to go in a different direction. Deprivation should get your mind back on the track I want it to be on. And the discomfort should be over as soon as I allow you your release. And hopefully your mind will stay on track or we have to do this all over again." He pulls his finger out of me and slips it into his mouth. I watch as he savors my essence.

"I don't want to go through this all over again. I won't survive."

"I don't think I would either. Let yourself go. When I give you an order, do it without thinking about it, just like you did here tonight in my lap. I will make sure it is safe. I will keep you happy. That's my job. Yours is to please me. Do as I say and I will take care of everything else. Let me own you. You say the words so easily, but not because you believe them, you say you're mine because you think it will please me."

"You don't like it when I say I'm yours?" Why do I say those degrading words then?

"I would love to hear those words, nothing would please me more. But only if you meant them. So far, they have been empty words and those are worthless to me. I don't want words, I want you. I want your body. I want your mind. I want your obedience. Give those to me, and the words should flow out naturally. That is what I want. You might not believe this, but that is what you want also."

I don't have any words for that statement. I know I say the words because that's what I thought Dustin wanted to hear, but actually hearing Marcus say it out loud, I realize I didn't mean them, then or now. I was just trying to please. I know I've been afraid in the scary room, but I remember when I just let go and dropped my head down, losing myself in the experience. The sensations flowing over me, coursing through me, washed away everything else. I wasn't embarrassed to be naked with a fully dressed stranger fingering me. I wasn't humiliated to be draped across a man's lap, leaving myself open to him and the massager. It wasn't wrong or degrading to feel the sting where my wrist cuffs dug into my soft skin while I was hanging by chains from the ceiling. I think that is the point he wants me to get to. The point where I relinquish everything to him. My body. My mind. My obedience.

My submission.

We've been ensconced in the playroom for a while and it looks like Marcus is ready to leave. He gently gets me to my knees and tells me to stay as he picks up everything and puts them away. He offers me his hand and pulls me to my feet and we leave the playroom. I'm walking beside him in a fog, thinking about everything he said and did, but also trying not to think at all.

We walk to his bedroom and into his bathroom. I stop suddenly as I remember the icy cold shower we had here. Marcus looks back at me and then gently guides me back into the bathroom and tells me to use the toilet. The cool seat is wonderful for a moment, then the soreness of my bottom forces me to sit above the seat to do my business.

When I'm done I'm led into the shower stall. There are hooks embedded in the walls, and Marcus attaches my wrist cuffs to them. I don't resist, Dustin did this also. I am exhausted beyond anything else. All the frustration and fear leading up to this trip. All the pent up sexual energy. All the worry and wonder about what will happen this week are suffocating.

Marcus efficiently washes me in warm water starting with my hair, and working down to my feet. I just hang there and let him. My eyes are half-lidded as I watch his body moving around me. When he's done with me, he gives himself a quick wash and releases my cuffs. He dries us off and, without bothering with clothes for either of us, leads me out into the hall and into my bedroom. He holds me for a few minutes asking questions. Did I enjoy hanging from the ceiling? How did I feel when my clothes were ripped off? Was the room too warm or too cold? Have I had panic attacks before? Do I know how beautiful I am? Or how tight my pussy is? etc. etc.