Just Curious Ch. 07

He raises his hands higher yet, my dress bunching around his wrists. He lingers a bit around my breasts. Then he stands, I raise my hands over my head as he lifts the slinky red dress over my head and drops it on the floor. I stare at his chest as his hands explore my recently pampered skin. He lifts me up and sits me on the kitchen table, standing between my legs.

He lifts my face by the chin and leans in for a long, lingering kiss. "I want you to consider something for me. You don't have to answer right away, but I'd like you to know its coming." He runs his hand across my chest. "It's almost Elliot's birthday. As part of my gift to him, I'd like you to allow Elliot to use you."

"Use me? Elliot?"

"Yes. I've seen his test results and he's clean. You two seemed to get along today. Elliot is my second; he's my trusted friend in a city where I don't trust anyone. I would be thrilled to watch you being used by him."

"You want to watch?" My brain is not making the proper connections.

"I would. I said you didn't have to answer right now, but I'd like you to think about it." End of discussion. Gently he lowers me onto my back and moves my arms above my head. I watch as his free hand releases his masculinity. My knees spread, inviting him into my core. He slides slowly into me, my back arching involuntarily.

With long, languid thrusts, Marcus brings me to the edge and holds me over the precipice. I'm writhing under him, trying to get that little shove to push me over, but he matches me for every wiggle and twist I make.

"Please. Please let me cum. Please Marcus." Yes! Begging does the trick. He picks up the pace and my body explodes instantly. He continues the faster pace until he reaches his completion, filling my pussy with cum.

He pulls out and rubs his hand over my smooth-as-a-babies-bottom mound. "Damn, I knew I should have left it alone." He continues to rub his fingers over where my landing strip used to be. I just lay there on the kitchen table, content and sleepy. "Stay!" I have no problem with that.

I hear him washing his hands, and rustling around in the kitchen. He dampens a paper towel and cleans between my legs. He goes back to the counter and throws it away. Turning my head, I watch him open the purchases from earlier and set dinner on the table. I notice there's only one dinner plate. I wonder if I'll be kneeling again. I hated that.

The chair is near my head and he sits down. I'm still lying on the table with my feet dangling off the other side. With one hand on my chin, his thumb stroking my jaw line, he starts eating with his fingers. He bought a rotisserie chicken, some hummus, olives, and a cucumber salad. I wait for a bit, but I'm not offered anything. Ummmm what about me???

I'm about to ask what's up, but I catch Marcus's eye. He just arches an eyebrow at me. I resort my thoughts and change tactics. "Marcus, could I please have some food for dinner?"

Without a word, he starts hand feeding me strips pulled off the chicken, no utensils. His other thumb is still stroking my jaw as he continues feeding me different things. When he drips some juice on my cheek, he leans over and licks it clean. We continue like this, in companionable silence, until he's full. "Did you want any more?"

"No. Thank you Marcus, it was delicious." He jokes that he made it all by himself and cleans up the half of the table I'm not occupying. I'm still fairly content right here. When I hear the dishwasher going, he comes back and sits down again.

"So, two things for tonight. You want the good or the bad first."

"Eeuccchh. Does there have to be a bad, can't there just be a good and a good?" He laughs and waits for me to answer. "Fine, dinner before dessert. Give me the worst ya got."

"Seeing as today was supposed to be relaxing day for you; hanging around the office..." I playfully try to slap the top of his head, but his reflexes are preternatural and he grabs my hand instead. "Nice try. I might have to punish you for that later." I can hear the teasing in his voice.

"Anyhoo... Hanging around, full spa package, relaxing, right? It didn't quite turn out that way, but I don't think minor little setbacks like that should change my plans too much. So I'm going to put you to work tonight." He's smiling at me.

"Work?" What work? Prostitution?

"Yes, we're going to clean my place tonight." He sweeps his arm out, indicating the condo. "Laundry, vacuuming, bathrooms, kitchen, and windows. Doesn't that sound fun?"

"Oh yeah, tons o' fun." I roll my eyes. He had this big frightening intro only to drop domestic chores on me. He laughs.

"You ready for the good part?"

I play along. "Yes, please Marcus, enlighten me."

He runs his finger over the bridge of my nose. "Elliot said you were very good today. I also thought you were very good today. So I have decided you deserve a reward."

"A reward? Like what?" This does sound good, but slightly suspicious.

"It's your reward, what do you want?"

"Anything?"

"Anything within reason. It should be short term, not longer than 8-12 hours max. Not too extravagant. Maybe a certain restaurant or attraction. Something small that you'll enjoy."

My first thought is a chair for breakfast tomorrow, but that'll just be postponing the inevitable. The only thing I really wanted to see was Cirque du Soleil, and we've already seen that. So, what do I want? Again, the simplest things are the hardest to see.

I get a big smile on my face. "For tonight, I want to wear my panties. From now till morning." Simple, short length of time, perfect.

"No. No way." Marcus didn't even think about it.

"Why not? It fits all your requirements. What's wrong with it?"

"I don't want you wearing underwear. I don't like them."

Ummm. What? "I thought this was my reward. What I want, not what you want. You can have what you want at anytime it seems. I want my reward to be panties. Now. Until morning."

He just stares at me. And stares. And stares. "Fine. Panties only, no bra. And they come off at first light tomorrow. Little brat."

I jump up, OK, maybe slowly and gently roll off the table, but inside I'm jumping. I kiss him on the cheek and wait for him to stand up. We walk to his bedroom and he pulls my bag out of his closet and tosses it on his bed. I rifle through it to find a lacy dark blue bikini with red trim. I slip it on and breathe a sigh of content. Wonderful.

Marcus is scowling down at me. I spin to give him a better view. "It's hideous."

"It's not hideous. It's wonderful. While we're in here, may I please check my phone?"

He gets a big grin. "Only if you strip." He sits down on the bed and waits.

"Fine. Be that way." I turn away from him and keeping my legs straight, I wiggle the panties down my legs. I look back and I have his full attention. I walk with a sway in my hips over to the little table and unplug my phone. Then I completely ignore him. Serves him right.

I return a bunch of texts, and then call my parents. I also call my older sister and gloat that I got to see Cirque du Soleil. When I'm done I plug the phone back in and return to where the panties are lying on the floor. Again with extravagance, I wiggle them back on. Marcus is silently glaring at me up to this point. "Hideous!"

"They are not! Look how cute they are." Again, I spin around in front of him.

"Hideous. Let's go. We have work to do." He leads out to the living room and starts assigning chores. I'm supposed to put my bedding in the washer, then vacuum my bedroom and clean my bathroom. Then I get to dust and vacuum the living room while he cleans the kitchen. Joy oh joy.

My bedroom and bathroom are easy enough to clean. When I return to the kitchen area, Marcus is switching the laundry around. I go into the fridge and take a few olives, popping one in my mouth. Marcus has turned from the washer and dryer and is eyeing me. He walks over, opens my hand and makes a show of counting the olives. Five, well six if you count the one in my mouth.

"What?" He doesn't answer. He turns me so I'm facing the table and bends me over it.

"I'm going to enjoy this a lot more than you." I let out a screech as he grabs my panties and pulls them straight up. My feet lift a few inches off the floor. I feel his second hand pulling the panties apart. With a loud tearing noise, the thin material gives way and I drop back down. I try to stand up, but Marcus pushes me back down. "Now, that's 100% better."

He rubs his hand over my ass. "Taking items without begging is punishable." Aw crap! Stupid man rules again. He takes an olive out of my hand and I watch as he pops it in his mouth. "Here we go."

I only get spanked six times, but holy hell they hurt. I think the table even moved forward a few inches. My hands are clenched, but he pries my fingers open and takes another olive. "Kneel. Keep the hand with the olives up at shoulder level." With a groan I slide off the table and drop to my knees and spread them wide. One hand is resting on my thigh; the other is holding the last three olives up near my shoulder.

Marcus picks up my torn panties and throws them away. He comes back to me, leaning against the table and picks up another olive from my open hand and pops it in his mouth. "You seem to have some problem remembering to beg. You know I enjoy it, but yet I have to keep reminding you to do it. So let's try something to help you remember. That was six. Next time you forget it will be twelve. The time after that will be 18, then 24, then 30, then 36, etc, etc, etc." He pops another olive in his mouth. "I think that's a good plan. What do you think?"

I stay quiet, staring at the floor, fighting to keep tears from falling. He nudges the inside of my knee with his foot. "I think that's a good plan, Marcus."

"Good." He takes the last olive from my hand. "Kneel." I think he might mean my hand, so I lower it a few inches, when he doesn't say anything I drop it to my thigh. "Good girl." I'm in the full kneel position again. Knees spread wide, hands on thighs, back straight. Marcus towers over me for a while, not saying anything. Then he leaves the kitchen.

I hear the vacuum going; he must be cleaning his bedroom. The tears that I've been fighting back start to fall. I know he's disappointed with me, but I don't know why that fact hurts so much. I take a chance and quickly wipe them away. The minutes tick by; occasionally I hear a thump or a clink from the hallway leading to the bedrooms.

Feet suddenly obscure the section of tile I've been studying. I didn't even hear him return. He doesn't say anything. He walks behind me. "Ahh. It's about time. Very nice." He crouches down and runs his hand over my ass. "Girl, I want you to lean forward and place you cheek on the floor. Keep your hands above your head."

I move my hands to the floor and lean forward until my face is touching the cool hard tile. My elbows are straight out from my shoulders, with my hands above my head. "Turn your face toward me unless I tell you otherwise. Don't try to hide from me. You belong to me and I want to see you." As I turn my head toward him, he runs his hand over my upturned ass. It feels almost like its sleeping. Numb and tingling where his skin caresses mine. The ever-present burn is mingling with the other sensations. "I was wondering if you were ever going to bruise. I thought the paddle would have done it, but it's not till now that you are finally showing some beautiful shades of purple." His grasp is firmer and he starts squeezing, then I feel his lips on my tender flesh. He licks and sucks while he explores my globes with his hands. "So perfect."

"It looks like your ass is off limits for a while. Those punishments for not begging will have to be administered elsewhere." He stops toying with me and puts me back in the kneel position. I kneel there quietly, staring at the floor. I sense he's still in the kitchen, but I can't see him and I don't know what he's doing. I hear some clicks of the camera. Something has been nagging at the corners of my mind, but I'm not sure if now is the right time to challenge him. Is there ever a right time to challenge this man?

"Marcus, may I ask you a question?"

"Always." He voice is calm, I think mine wavered. More clicks.

"You said I had to beg instead of taking the olives, but this afternoon I know you saw me take some fruit off the tray. You didn't seem mad that I did that. How am I supposed to know when to beg and when not to beg?"

"I am not mad at you now; you'll know when I'm mad at you. Rather, I'm disappointed. You've been told to beg repeatedly. You should be better at it by now." Disappointed? I thought he was mad. It was better when he was mad. I didn't want to disappoint him. "As for lunch this afternoon, I was also disappointed you just took the fruit without begging, but I was testing you for something else at that time. And I didn't want to interrupt that to punish you."

"Testing? Testing for what?" Was I supposed to know about this?

"You were irrational at breakfast this morning. I was trying to figure out why. You're kneeling now without any difficulty, and you're only about three feet from where you were this morning. So that's not the problem." This is about that! I just didn't like it. "I fed you by hand, not once, but twice since then, and that's not the problem. So why is it you don't want me to feed you for breakfast?"

By his tone, I know he's expecting an answer. "I don't know. I just felt... I was angry. I felt like a dog sitting there. I didn't like it."

"I have never treated you like a dog. How was it different from this? You're kneeling for me now. You've accepted food from my fingers twice today. This is the same room as this morning. Why is this acceptable and breakfast is not? Why?"

Frustrating males. "I don't know! I just don't know. OK. It's just different." That was a little bit louder than I wanted it to be.

He takes my chin and forces me to look at him. "It's not different. You're just clinging to your independence. You're fighting the submission I demand from you. I need you to submit. I need you to stop fighting this. You've been strong and independent for so long, it's hard to let go. You are a submissive. Let yourself be controlled. You're only making it harder on yourself." He stands me up. My legs are numb from kneeling on the cold hard tile. Marcus wraps his arms around me. "Out there, independence is an asset. In here, it is an obstacle. Give yourself to me, and I will let you shine."

"I can't. Please. I just can't." I try to pull away from his embrace, but he won't let me go.

"You can. You will. You said you would give yourself to me. You said you would try. I demand this from you and you will give it to me or everything we have done will be for nothing. You will never find what you're looking for, what you need, if you won't let go of your independent streak."

I just cry. I can't talk right now. I'm not even sure why breakfast is so difficult for me, so how can I explain it to him? He lets me cry, rocking me gently back and forth. "Shhh little girl. We're done for now. Everything is OK. Everything will be OK. Good girl. Good girl." He releases me and checks to see if I can stand on my own. I'm a bit wobbly, but I stand on my own, staring at the ground. He runs his hand down my face, and draws my eyes to him.

"It hurts." My insides hurt. I don't know if I can do this.

"I know, little girl. I know. Let it go and everything will be better. I promise you that. Trust me, and I will take care of everything else. Submit to me, and I will make you radiant."

We stand there as the minutes tick by. "We still have the living room and kitchen to clean yet. I'll get the kitchen and you can tackle the living room. Sound good?"

"Yes, that sounds fine. Can I go get another pair of panties now?"

"What?"

"My reward. From earlier. I asked to wear panties tonight, and you said yes. But you ripped them off."

"No. You had one pair, now they're gone."

"My reward was to wear them tonight; until morning. We never discussed how many."

He's staring down at me. I know he wants to say no, but he did agree to let me wear them until morning. I wait for him to decide. He grumbles something I don't understand. "You are a brat! Fine. Go get the ugly things from my room. But know this; your chances of EVER getting another reward are slim to none. And if you do happen to earn one, I'm choosing it for you." I feel like I just won the lottery.

He must really hate those things. I smile before turning and heading toward his bedroom. My bag is sitting on the floor near the bed. I pick out a cute pastel blue one with little white bows on it and slip them on. The usually soft material feels like burlap against my bruised skin. On my way back to the living room, I bring the vacuum from Marcus's room with me. "Do you have a preference for how the living room is cleaned?"

Marcus looks me up and down and scowls. "I prefer you naked; and the room cleaned top to bottom. " I spin around once before going to work. Marcus grumbles something again. We work in silence. I dust, then polish the wood surfaces, then vacuum while Marcus is cleaning in the kitchen. I'm slower than usually because of the pain my ass is causing me.

Marcus gets done before I do. He sits on the sofa and watches me work. I finish up with the vacuuming and go to sit next to him. He stops me by placing his arm over the seat of the sofa. "Did you forget something?"

Crap! I don't want 12 spankings. "Please Marcus, may I sit by you?"

He smiles his adorable evilness smile. That's never good. "That's not what I meant. Did you forget to clean something?"

I look around the living room. I dusted everything. All the wood surfaces are polished. I vacuumed the floor and the hallway. I look back at Marcus, confused. He points his finger into the corner, and slowly swings it over to the other corner. Crap! The windows? They're sixteen feet tall and make up the entire wall! You gotta be kidding me. Then it dawns on me that I don't know if people can see in or not. I know I can see in the other building across the street. It's almost 7PM, there are thousands of people walking along the strip. I really don't want that many people seeing my tits.

"Can people see in?" I turn back to him, and he doesn't look happy.

"Are you questioning me?" Crap again. Come on. Give me a break here. He stands up and takes me by the wrist. He walks us to the large bank of windows. "Let's find out, shall we. Hands on the glass." I turn away from him and place my hands on the windows; throngs of people are walking by, three stories below me.

Marcus starts by fondling my tits, whispering how slutty I would look to all the people below. No one looks up at us. His hands roam down my body; all the while he's whispering dirty little things in my ears. I'm trembling as my core starts to moisten. The panties are gone in an instant, half shredded and thrown on the ground, the other half flutters down my leg, encircling my ankle. "Hhhmmm. I don't completely hate them anymore, maybe only 99% now. It's kind of fun shredding your imagined protection so easily."

He drops to his knees behind me, again savoring the color and heat of my ass. His hands and fingers toying with me mercilessly. My body squirming against the window, trying to stay upright. "Please fuck me, Marcus. Please."

I hear him laughing behind me. "Do you actually think I'm going to let you cum? After the panty mutiny? The great olive theft?" He stands again and grabs my hair, twisting my head to the side. "Do you think you earned an orgasm for questioning my orders? Answer me." He puts a little more pressure on my neck.

"No. I'm sorry. Please. I'm sorry."

"Ooohh, Now you beg." Sarcasm from Marcus is never a good sign. He releases my head and drops back down to my ass. "You keep begging little girl, and I'll enjoy this nice juicy pussy. And if you have any hopes of ever cumming again you had better get your priorities straight. You do what I say, when I say, and in the way you think will please me the most. That's all you need to focus on. Your body is what I'll focus on." With his hands on my ass, his mouth latches on to my clit and my body starts to soar.