Just Curious Ch. 09

I watch, transfixed, and Marcus cuts off her oxygen again. Her mouth opens and closes, like a fish out of water. She twists and arches into the constant pounding her pussy is receiving. I'm also holding my breath this time; feeling the fog lift, then the pressure in my chest, then the burn in my face and throat. He releases her throat. I exhale. His pace slows to a crawl and she gasps beneath him. He's calming her now; his hand gliding over her skin, his voice caressing her ears. I almost feel like I'm intruding on a private moment.

"Are you ready Marie? One more time for me, baby. Are you ready, my sweet?" He's sucking on her tits as her answer rambles on. "Yes. Please. Oh god, please. Please fuck me sir. Yes. Please."

Marcus glances at me. That one look tells me I'm the one he wants on the bed of the truck, not her. He picks up the pace; the blonde's body is following wherever he leads her. I don't know how I missed it, but for the first time tonight I see something I never saw before. I see the complete, absolute, unwavering trust in her face. Trust. Something I haven't been able to give him.

He brings her again to the edge of her orgasm. Her pleas replaced with moans and squeals. Her back arches and her eyes roll back, and that is when Marcus strikes. His hand is like a metal band encompassing her neck. Her scream of pure pleasure is cut short, only the omnipresent beat of the drums is heard. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom. Marcus hasn't cum yet. I see the concentration on his face. 100% of his focus is on the blonde. He releases her and I can't hold her down anymore. I watch, fascinated, as she curls in and her body starts twitching. Marcus scares me with a shout, as he finds his release inside the blonde. She wraps her arms and legs around him as he collapses to her side, both panting like they had just run a marathon.

I look to the man watching from the side. He has a proud, pleased smile as he looks down on his woman. This is so surreal. The man reaches down and pets the blonde's hair. Groggily, she turns to look at him, a soft smile on her lips. "Such a good girl, Marie. I'm so proud of you. Very good girl."

Marcus lifts himself up off the bed of the truck, slips off the condom, and tucks himself back in. He helps Marie off and into the gentle hands of her man. The man holds her and asks if she's OK. She just nods and smiles and whispers 'thank you' to him. The man shakes Marcus's hand and thanks him, then tells us he wants to get Marie home. Marcus kisses the blondes forehead and wishes her a good night before she's led away into the night.

I'm still frozen in the back of the truck. "Come here girl." I don't know what to do, so I crawl forward. He puts a hand under my chin and forces me to look up at him. He just stares at my face for the longest time. "Why couldn't you do that with me? Why did you have to use her?"

"Breath play is the ultimate in control. I've known Marie for over ten years, even before she met her current master, Ben. It is very dangerous. It doesn't take a lot a pressure to crush a person's windpipe, and I could easily kill her. I trust her implicitly to let me know when something is wrong. She trusts me to remain completely focused on her, over my own pleasure. Absolute trust. Absolute control. It takes a long time to achieve that level of trust, and I don't have that kind of time with you."

He sits on the edge of the tailgate and pulls me into his lap. He slips one hand under the elastic waistband of my dress and begins playing with me. "You're wet. Exactly the way I like you." Instead of the something fun I was hoping for, we start a session of 400 questions. How did you feel holding another person down? Why can you watch another woman getting fucked, but you don't like other women watching you. Why did you hold your breath when I was choking Marie? What do you feel about Ben, who let his submissive be used by another man? What do you feel about me fucking other women? How would you feel if I let another man use you? Did you like Paleo? Do you like the drum jam? Did you get enough sleep? Do you know your body seeks out mine, even when you're sleeping? Etc. Etc.

I just go into a zone, feeling his fingers stroking my fire, my mind goes blank and I answer the questions as best and as honestly as I can. When he's satisfied with my answers, his hands and mouth bring me close to the edge. Then he stops. "Please Marcus. I was good"

"Shhhh girl. You were very good today, but you cum only when I choose. And right now....I choose not to let you cum." I grumble a little bit, but I know begging won't change his mind. We sit there as my body cools down without its release. I don't even know when the last time I came was. Yesterday?

He helps me off his lap, and we hop off the bed of the truck. He seems to be in a happy mood as we wander back to his SUV. He pulls me into his arms and presses me against the driver's side door. His hand delves into the back of my skirt, cupping my ass and lifting me up on my toes. His mouth is on mine, and I let him take whatever he wants. I feel the muscles of his shoulders tensing and coiling under my fingers. "God, I love using your body. It reacts to every little touch. It takes everything I give it. A man could get lost in a body like this." He leans in and nuzzles me, not kissing, just rubbing his face against mine. Both hands are inside my skirt now. He eases it over my hips and the soft material slips down my legs, pooling at my feet. "There now. That's how I like you best; naked, wet and writhing in my arms."

He picks up my skirt and tosses it in the SUV. "Come on, there are drums a beating, dancers dancing, and fuckers fucking tonight." He gives me another mischievous grin, and pulls me toward the drums and the dancers. Not surprisingly, I'm not the only one dancing naked tonight. As the night progresses, more and more men and women lose more and more clothes to the banging of the drums. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom.

The clock in the SUV displays 4:17AM when we finally leave the drum jam. The sky in the east is just starting to lighten. Silently, I watch as Marcus drives us out of the desert and toward the bright lights of the city that never sleeps. His short hair is spiky, and he's as sweaty and dusty as I am. Even with something as routine as driving along a dark, deserted road, I can see the focus in his eyes. His eyes are clear, and a soft brown color you could get lost in if you weren't careful. His lips are soft and full, a little tinge of red against his sun-kissed skin. I'm trying to decide if the lines around his eyes are crow's feet or laugh lines when he turns and looks directly at me. How did he know I was checking him out? He laughs as I look away. "Do you like what you see, little one?"

"Yeah." I feel like a little school kid caught doing something stupid.

"Yeah? You've been staring at me for ten minutes, and all I get is a 'yeah'?" He's teasing me again. I resist the childish urge to stick my tongue out at him.

"I don't know. I guess I never really saw you as an actual real person. You always seemed overwhelming. You were just this huge presence, influencing every aspect of my life for the last few days. You're kinda cute, though."

He gives me this over-exaggerated shocked expression. "Kinda? I'm KINDA cute? You sure know how to burst a guy's bubble. Jeez. Kinda cute is almost insulting."

I punch him lightly on the arm. "Fine. You're kinda cute AND a dork. Better?"

"God, you are such a brat." I smile innocently and thank him for the compliment. We both laugh and relax into the long drive home. No cops are waiting for us in the garage. Nothing jumps out at us in the elevator. The condo is silent and dark as we enter. When he flips on the kitchen lights, the harsh artificial illumination washes away all traces of the firelight we were dancing in earlier. "Shower and bed, little one. I have to go to work in a few hours, and you're coming with me."

He ushers me into my room, and he heads to his room. The water is refreshing, washing away all the sweat and grit and grime I accumulated throughout the night. I wash my hair and scrub my feet until the water runs clear. I have a towel wrapped around me and I'm brushing my hair when Marcus walks in. He's only wearing his dark green pajama bottoms; his hair is dripping water on his shoulders. He watches me as I finish my hair and brush my teeth.

"Time for bed." He helps me get settled and tucks the blankets in. He turns on the baby monitor and kisses me good night. "See you in a few hours. Sleep well, little girl."

I stare at the ceiling, white, square, boring. I turn on my side and stare at the wall. Tasteful generic pictures on a square boring wall. There's no clock in this room, I wonder if there's a reason for that? I turn to the other wall; long floor to ceiling curtains, and a square boring wall. I roll onto my back, arms draped over my eyes, trying to force sleep to come. That never worked in the past, and it's not working this time. I just can't sleep. I roll onto my side.

I sit up in the bed. I can't sleep. I stare at the door for a long time, trying to decide what to do. Well, I know what I want to do; I'm just not sure what he wants me to do. Fuck it. The worst he can do is send me back to bed, right? Well, he could do worse, but I'm willing to risk it right now. I slip out of my room, still naked, and pad quietly down the hall. I wait outside his door. There's light coming from the crack under the door. I stand there silently, listening for something, anything. My hand is shaking as I knock on the door. I wait and there's no answer. I open the door a crack, not enough to slip through, and knock again. "Marcus?"

"Come in." I peek around the door and he's sitting at a desktop computer. I timidly walk into the center of his room. I feel like an idiot now. What if he does send me back to bed?

"I can't sleep. Can I please stay here tonight?" My toes are digging into the carpet. I try not to fidget. Marcus stands and walks around the desk. He stops in front of me and stares down at me for a long time. He runs his hand along my jaw line and draws my eyes to his. Without a word, he turns and walks away. I watch as he goes into a closet, then a dresser, and walks back to the bed. One by one, he drops items on the bed: plain metal handcuffs, a maroon blindfold, a small plastic package with lime green foam earplugs, nipple clamps connected by a silver chain with tiny bells, a riding crop, and the last item is a brown leather dog collar with a short leather leash.

He steps back and watches me silently. I look down at the items; I know he wants me to put them on. I start with the nipple clamps, gently rolling my nipples till they peak before placing the alligator clamps on them. Next are the ear plugs, I tear the package open and slip them inside my ears. I turn my head left to right, trying to notice a difference, but it was quiet in here to begin with. If I put the handcuffs on, I won't be able to do the others. If I put the blindfold on, I won't be able to see what I'm doing. That leaves the collar. The dog collar. I pick it up. The leash is affixed to the collar and comes along for the ride. I open the metal buckle and take a big breath before slipping it around my neck and securing it. The leash is hanging down between my breasts, I watch as it sways in silence. I look at the last few items, deciding on the best way to proceed. I don't know if he wants my hands in front or behind me. I take another breath and follow my gut. I take the hand cuffs and place them on one wrist, letting the other side dangle. I climb on the bed, kneeling before the last two items. I place the crop against my knee so I know where it is. I take the blindfold and place it over my eyes, wiggling it so it blocks out all light. I reach down and pick up the crop. I go into the kneel position on the bed and raise both arms to shoulder height, resting the crop in my open palms, the open handcuff swinging from my wrist.

I stay in this position and wait. I can't see anything. I can't hear anything, except my own breathing. I don't know if he's happy. Hell, I don't even know if he's in the room. All I can do is wait, so that's what I do.

It is a long time before I feel anything. Marcus places his hand on my cheek and I press into the contact. His hand glides down my body and tugs on each nipple clamp in turn, checking their placement. I give a little moan as the pain starts to flow through my breasts. Next he checks the collar. He tries to shift it left, then right, but it doesn't move. He tries to slip two of his thick fingers under the collar, but they won't fit. He unbuckles it, loosens it, and then rebuckles it. His fingers slip between the leather and my neck easily this time. It also slides to the left and right now. He kisses my ear lobe, takes the crop out of my hands, then all contact is lost again.

I wait. Next I feel his hands on my shoulders. He's moved behind me, his thighs hitting my feet dangling off the edge of the bed. He kisses my back and shoulders. My head drops forward, enjoying the sensation of his lips against my skin. His hands move down my arms, gently pulling them behind my back. My wrists touch, and he secures the dangling cuff to my free wrist, effectively binding my arms behind my back.

My body is on fire, but for some reason, I'm completely calm. I remember he once used the term 'veil of content' and I never understood that. To be kneeling here on his bed, in his room, bound, blindfolded, and deafened to the world, I feel content. I'm exactly where Marcus wants me to be. In a position he wants me in. I will feel exactly what he wants me to feel. I know in my gut I'll let him use me any way he wants to use me. I'm not afraid; not of the situation or the man behind me. I feel alive, excited, aroused, anticipating pleasure, anticipating pain, and underlying all that; I feel calm. This must be the 'veil of content' washing over me, surrounding me. This is what it feels like to freely give everything to another person. This is my submission.

All contact is lost again, but this time for a much shorter time. Something is scratching my shoulder. It's the crop. He drags the edge of it across my back. I know he's looking at the scars on my back. He drags the crop over all three of them from the sunburst Dustin put on me. I can't keep the shiver from flowing through me.

The crop is between my shoulder blades, there is a gentle pressure pushing me forward. I bend at the waist and slowly lower myself until the pressure stops. I end up with my face and chest on the bed, my feet still dangling off the edge, and my ass high in the air.

Hands and mouth are exploring my ass. Soft caress's and gentle bites pulling at my flesh. Every inch is touched over and over. A hand slips between my legs, I can feel how wet and ready I am for anything he chooses to take from me. He works his fingers between my soft folds in long, languid strokes, drawing my fire to a boil.

All contact is lost again, and a small groan is pulled up out of my throat. I wait again, my fire slowing to a simmer. I don't move a muscle.

A hand in my hair, then pulling at my scalp. With even, continuous pressure I'm pulled back into the kneeling position. Then I'm pulled even farther so I'm leaning back over my heels. In an instant his mouth is claiming mine. His other hand is roaming freely between my nipples and my clit. He's tugging on the chain, twisting and mauling my breasts one moment, and the next he's doing god-knows-what to my clit. I lose all control, by body writhing helplessly on the bed. I can't see anything. I can't hear anything. I want to grab him and pull him onto me, but my hands are held fast behind my back. Helpless, out of control, ready to explode. This is my submission to Marcus.

I'm pulled back to the kneel position. Then I'm left alone again. I'm panting hard. My body is trembling. The blindfold is soaking up my tears. "Please. Marcus. Please." Those are the only thoughts I can form. Those are the only words I can make. "Please." Nothing. Nothing happens. I wait. Begging.

The bed moves. It sinks down somewhere in front of me. I wait, trembling. A hand comes and cups my breast, hefting it, a thumb running over my cold, clamped nipple. The leash is taken, and I feel my first tug on the collar, leading me forward. Without my arms for balance, I struggle forward on the soft bed until the pressure on the collar stops. The crop is placed on my left thigh and the leash is tugged again. I start crawling again, but the crop taps my thigh. I move my right leg forward until it bumps up against something, probably Marcus.

Again the leash tugs me forward. I balance on my left knee and try my best to swing my right over his body. I start falling, but Marcus catches me instantly, righting me and helping me straddle his thighs. His hands are on my knees; traveling up my legs, over my stomach to rest under my breasts. Warm, strong hands start playing with me; squeezing my breasts and shaking them, the chain between my nipples jangling everywhere. His mouth is on them now, nipping and licking and sucking the cold, hard nubs. My hips start rocking back and forth.

Marcus abandons my tits and lies down. I wait again. "Please Marcus. Please use me. Please." There's tapping on my ass, not hard, just tapping. I shuffle higher up his body until I feel something banging against my belly. I lean forward, trying to press into it, but I get a tap across my shoulder and the collar is tugged up. I straighten my back, but I can't keep my hips from rocking. What's he waiting for?

He starts banging his cock against my tummy. It takes all my willpower to stay as still as I possibly can. This isn't what I want him to be doing with his cock, but I can understand that he might be appreciating the visual. "Please Marcus."

My collar is pulled until my face is right over his, I can feel his warm breath on my lips. His manhood is pressed into my abdomen. Soft and slow our lips meet, his tongue teasing mine. With his hands on my thighs, he lifts my ass up. When I'm high enough, he takes the thick tool between his legs and runs it between mine, searching for the entrance to my core. He finds it and the tip of his cock slips in easily. I automatically try pressing down, but my ass is instantly slapped and he takes my bottom lip between his teeth. I freeze. We wait like this for a few moments before he releases my lip. Come on, please fuck me already. "Please."

The leash is flipped over my shoulder and I'm pulled upright. His cock slips a little bit further inside me. "Please." The leash is pulled straight down and I slowly sink down on his thick, hard masculinity.

With my other senses disabled, the few I have left are exaggerated. The smell of my sex is wafting toward me, tart and tangy. The taste of Marcus's kiss is lingering on my lips. The stretching of my cunt is on the edge of painful and I relish every twinge inside me. With the leash and crop he controls me, like a marionette on strings. He uses taps on the back of my thighs, tugs on the collar, and the chain connecting the nipple clamps to move my body in any way he pleases.

I am exhausted from dancing all night and my leg muscles are burning with the effort of obeying every silent command. My mouth is open, gulping in as much oxygen as I can. He's had me on the edge of orgasm so many times tonight I just need that little extra shove to get me over the top. "Please Marcus. Please whip me. I need the pain. Please let me cum. I'm yours. Please use me. Hurt me. Please I need to cum. Please. Whip me Marcus, please."

Everything stops. No. Not again. He can't stop again. I won't make it. "Please. I'm sorry. Please Marcus. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please don't leave me like this. Please. I'll do anything. Please."