Rope Marks

A familiar melody greeted me as I pushed the glass door open and entered the Starbucks coffee shop in the lobby of the building I'm employed at, early on a Friday morning. That particular Starbucks has CDs for sale from local, independent musicians. The song bore many similarities to Van Morrison's, Tupelo Honey. The lead vocals were cooed by a female singer with a seductive, raspy voice, doing her best impression of Bob Dylan.

An unfamiliar Barista smiled at me and waved me over to place my order. She looked to be in her mid-twenties. She had shot quick glances at me as I moved closer to the counter as each customer before was served and went on their way. As I approached the counter to place my order, she hooked a thumb under the silver chain around her neck and pulled the charm that was tucked out of view, from her black tank top. My eyes followed the quickness of her hand. The charm spun in mid-air, bounced off her breasts and came to rest against the black material of her top. It was a silver triskelion; a symbol associated with BDSM.

"Good morning," she greeted me just as she had greeted everyone else before me.

I grinned and lifted my gaze from the charm to her eyes. The young, cheerful lady quickly tucked the charm back into the tank top and her eyes and hands shot to the cash register and pretended to adjust the roll of paper the receipts are printed on.

"Good morning," I replied and broadened my grin as I looked at her name tag, "Cyra. Venti, dark roast, please." I pronounced her name 'sigh-ra'.

The dark haired, pale skinned beauty lowered her eyes and patted her chest in search of the charm that she had flashed at me. A nervous reaction, I presumed, to the realization that I might have recognized and understood the meaning of the symbol she had flashed at me.

It was a private, sexy game she played behind the counter. It gave her a thrill and aroused her whenever she flashed the charm and watched the reactions from the customers that she sized up and thought might be familiar with the symbol. Even if the vast majority were not aware of what the triskelion symbolized, observing strangers staring at her breasts gave her a cheap thrill and usually meant more money in the tip jar.

She met my gaze and smiled. "You pronounced my name right. Your Venti is coming right up," she replied as she took the five dollar bill from my hand. "Anything else for you this morning?" she asked.

I tossed the change Cyra handed me into the tip jar. "Yes, a copy of the CD that is playing, if it's available, please."

"That's a very popular CD. I'm afraid we're sold out. If you like, I can reserve a copy for you when the next shipment arrives," Cyra replied and handed me a pen as she slid my receipt towards me, from behind the safety of the counter.

I reached for the pen she offered me and purposefully brushed my fingers against her hand to gauge her reaction, if any, to my touch. A pink glow flushed in her cheeks as she lowered her eyes to my fingers making contact with her skin. Her reaction was immediate, intense and sexual. My lips curled in to a snarl as I watched a shiver shoot through her. I grabbed the pen and wrote my name and cell number on the receipt.

"Thank you, Cyra. Have a lovely day," I grinned and reached for my coffee.

"Your welcome," Cyra replied with a frog in her throat, then quickly read my name on the receipt and added, "Gil." She made no reference to the cell number I had provided her and quickly slid the receipt into the back pocket of her jeans.

I smiled at the nervous and blushing Cyra. "You got my name right." I paused and slowly lowered my eyes to her chest where the charm had rested, then slowly brought my gaze to meet hers, and added, "It appears we have much in common."

I walked away from the counter before she could reply. Her nervous, sexual tension was evident. Cyra was young, and more than likely she was very enthusiastically exploring her sexuality. I also didn't want to take the elevator ride to my floor with a fully erect cock. My cock had already twitched to semi-erection because of the sexy and flirtatious Cyra.

~

My cell phone vibrated and chimed in my jacket pocket as I swiped my security card to unlock the glass doors to get to the elevators. I was on my way home and looking forward to a lazy weekend. I pushed through the doors and answered my cell phone. "Hello."

"Umm, Gil?" I recognized Cyra's voice.

"Yes," was all I replied. If Cyra was curious as to what I could provide her in the form of sexual experiences, I was going to make her work for it. We all appreciate knowledge that has been earned. It's more satisfying to us. Sweeter, in Cyra's situation, given the realm she had chosen to explore.

"It's Cyra. The CD you wanted was just delivered. Thought I would let you know I put a copy aside for you," she replied. The tone, pitch and the rhythm of her words suggested that she was going to continue speaking. She didn't continue with what she wanted to say.

I allowed a few seconds to pass before I replied and pictured Cyra nervously biting her lip, and squeezing her legs together tightly to trap her sensitive, swollen, wet pussy. "Thank you, Cyra. I'll pick it up on Monday."

"Oh," her voice echoed disappointment. She felt embarrassed at the thoughts that had run through her mind from the moment she laid eyes on me. Cyra had played out scenes in her mind of being manhandled and forced into filthy, sexual acts by me. The newly discovered sexual fantasy was that of not having any say in what was done to her or what she was made to feel. And of being fucked in all of her holes, forcibly restrained if necessary, by a lover who was experienced and unapologetic in his desires and actions. It aroused her to the cusp of an orgasm whenever she fantasized of being the object of a man's feral, sexual desire, to be used solely as an instrument of sexual pleasure.

Cyra had experimented with rough, sexual play with a few inexperienced young men she had been sexually active with. But, deep inside her, she sensed there was much more to be experienced, much more to feel. Many more intense sensations to be discover in her body and in her mind.

"Is that a problem, Cyra?" I sternly asked. If I was right about Cyra's naturally, submissive nature, she would reply without hesitation.

She replied immediately, "I won't be here on Monday. I picked up an extra shift at this location to cover for a friend."

"It's a shame I won't see you on Monday," I grinned to myself as I replied. "I was looking forward to discovering what else we have common, other than the pronouncing our names correctly."

I heard Cyra take a deep breath and hold the air in her lungs. A few seconds later, she exhaled and asked, "Well, what if...?" She purposefully didn't finish asking the question with the hope that I would break the silence and ask her to continue. I didn't. Cyra clenched her jaw and swallowed hard as she endured the silence between us. When half a minute passed, she continued, "Never mind, Gil. I'll leave the CD with the manager for you. Sorry that I disturbed you."

"Continue with what you wanted to ask me, Cyra. It's rude to leave someone hanging in the middle of a conversation. You don't strike me as a rude young lady. Am I right about you, Cyra, or did I read you wrong?" I calmly replied as my cock twitched in anticipation of Cyra's response. If she was interested in exploring the new sexual desires that had been awoken in her, she would, at minimum, hint that I was correct about her intentions.

"I would never intentionally be rude. It's ..." she paused for an instant, when Cyra realized that she had stopped mid-sentence again, she laughed. "I did it again, didn't I? Sorry, Gil. You make me a bit nervous and I don't know why."

I turned up the heat on Cyra. She obviously was attracted to something she had sensed in me. I wanted to leave no doubt in her mind that I was interested in her. "I make you more than just nervous, Cyra. And you know exactly why I make you nervous."

My cock throbbed and my balls tightened as I anticipated her reply. Cyra gasped at what I had said to her. It became crystal clear to her that if she pursued her curiosity, she'd be in over her head, way over her head. As scary as the thought of being used and not knowing what to expect was, whenever she fantasized about it, her pussy clenched tight at the thought of allowing herself to be vulnerable and used. Her body shook from the intense sexual arousal that spiked through every inch of her. Her little game of advertising her interest in BDSM for a sexual thrill had provided her the possibility of realizing and experiencing the desires that had manifested inside in her and that were yet to be satisfied.

Cyra gathered her courage and took a deep breath. "I was going to ask if you could meet me to pick up your CD. I paid for it already."

The tremble in her voice made my cock throb harder. Her shaky words were similar to those of a virgin asking her soon to be first lover to sink his cock into her. In a way, Cyra was offering her virginity to me.

"Where," I smiled, trying to contain the growl that wanted to escape from my throat. I wanted to ravage and mark her young body. I wanted to make her suffer. I wanted to inflict pain and ecstasy upon her and watch her reaction to every sensation. And, I wanted to feel her orgasm with my cock buried deep inside her.

"I'm meeting a friend at SpeakEasy 21, at five-thirty. I'm sure you know the bar, it's a block away, on Adelaide St. West," she tried to control the trembling in her body from resonating in her voice but, a small tremor managed to accompany the words, "In ten minutes, around five?"

"I'll be at the bar, Cyra. Please allow me to buy a drink to show my appreciation for your thoughtfulness."

Cyra let out a silent sigh of relief and replied, "Red wine, please. Thank you, Gil."

~

I made my way to SpeakEasy 21, took a seat at the bar and ordered a scotch and a glass of red wine. Before the bartender returned with my order, I felt a tap on my shoulder and heard Cyra's voice. "Hiya, Gil."

I turned and stood to face her. The young lady before me bore little resemblance to the Barista from behind the counter I had flirted with that morning. She was five inches taller and oozed sex from every pore of her slender body. The surprised expression on my face pleased Cyra. She smiled, lowered her head and squeezed her purse against her tight, flat belly.

She was dressed in a body hugging, deep purple, tube-dress. Its hem stopped just above her knees. Her legs were long and slender, and seductively bare. The purple, Peep Toe, five inch stilettos were the icing on the cake.

"Cyra, I am at a loss for words," I smiled at her. "You are a stunningly, beautiful young woman."

Cyra blushed and replied, "Thank you." I pulled out a chair from the bar and watched her gracefully sit down and pull the hem of her dress to cover the top of her thighs, once she was comfortably seated.

She raised the glass of wine and said, "Cheers, and thank you, Gil."

I nodded and took a sip of my scotch.

"Oh!" Cyra exclaimed and quickly placed the glass back on the bar and reached into her purse. "Here's your CD."

My eyes shot to the exposed tops of her firm, medium sized breasts as she turned in her chair. "You're not wearing your necklace, Cyra," I grinned and took the CD from her.

She wrapped both her hands around the wine glass, turned her head away from me and replied, "It's in my purse." Her cheeks continued to redden. "Gil," Cyra said in an anxious and serious tone, "I'm sort of seeing someone, our relationship is complicated. He'll be at the bar shortly. I needed to see you again but, I don't want to upset him. He gets jealous, even if he tells me he doesn't. May I call you sometime to talk about what else we might have in common?"

My first reaction to 'it's complicated' was to wish Cyra luck in her journey and make it clear that she was not to contact me again. I have no need for complications in my personal life. But Cyra had a hunger in her eyes that made me hard. A hunger that I wanted to take what I needed from. I downed the rest of my scotch and replied, "I understand. What do I owe you for the CD, Cyra?"

"Nothing. Consider it a gift, please," she smiled to hide her anxiety and hoped I would agree with her request to talk another time.

I stood to leave, placed a one-hundred dollar bill on the bar and replied, "Thank you for the CD. Allow me buy you and your date a drink, in return. Feel free to call me anytime, Cyra. I look forward to discovering what common interests we might share." My tone and mannerism was controlled and polite.

"You're leaving already? We still have about half an hour, alone," Cyra whispered as she stood up out of her chair and placed the palm of her hand on my shoulder.

I waived the bartender over and pointed to the money on the bar, "She'll be back in a few minutes."

The bartender nodded.

I smiled at Cyra and said, "Walk me to my car. I'm parked in the underground parking lot directly beneath us." And I offered her my arm. "We can take this opportunity to breach a few subjects that would be best discussed in private."

Cyra hesitated as she tried to decide if she should take me up on the offer to walk me to my vehicle. She had hoped for a more intimate location, without a time constraint, as the setting for our first conversation. She slid her hand around the crook of my elbow and said, "Only talk. Nothing else."

I nodded and we exited the bar through the doors that opened into the concourse of the building and made our way to the elevators.

"What are you searching for, Cyra?" I asked as the elevator started its descend to the third level parking lot.

She closed her eyes, threw her head back and exhaled. "I am curious about many things, Gil," as my name left her lips, Cyra shuddered.

"What makes you so sure I can provide the experiences you're in search of?" I asked.

"I sensed that there was something different about you as I watched you in line. Your eyes, when you looked at my charm, I saw an unspoken warning and an unspoken invitation. You struck me as a man who is very demanding, disciplined, and very strict. A man who controls the way he takes what he wants from a woman. I need to know if you are someone that can quiet the urges in me."

"I only take what is offered to me, Cyra. No more, no less. Continue."

Nervously, Cyra licked her lips and took a deep breath. "I fantasize about being controlled, disciplined and having my body used for pleasure." Her cheeks burned red with shame and excitement. The thought of confessing her darkest desires to a complete stranger was something Cyra believed to be impossible. Yet, not only did she confess her darkest desires to a stranger, she was building up the courage to ask a complete stranger if he would provide her those desires. Anticipation, fear and sexual arousal made her belly flutter. "I fantasize about a lover that won't allow me any say in the things he does to me. A lover that will take what he wants from me. A lover that won't stop if I struggle and try to resist what he wants to do me."

The elevator doors slid open and I led Cyra to where my car was parked. I pressed the fob, Cyra jumped with a start at the loud, double chirp from my car. I grinned and said, "You're jumping out of skin, Cyra, relax."

She forced a smile, "I'm very nervous. I don't know what to expect." Her eyes widened as a thought flashed in her mind, a thought that brought fear to the forefront of the emotions she was feeling. "You'll stop whenever I ask you to, right?"

I winked and replied, "Of course I will stop. You are safe with me."

She giggled nervously and replied, "Not too safe, I hope."

I growled, pushed her back against the driver's door of my vehicle and pinned her with my body. "Like this, Cyra?"

"Yes," she gasped and shivered as she lifted her head and offered me her full lips.

The veins in her neck throbbed to the pounding rhythm of her heart. "A kiss? You believe a kiss is the proper way to start the type of the sexual experiences you're searching for, Cyra?"

She shook her head and panted, "However you want this to start, Gil, just, please, please don't stop."

I slid my knee between Cyra's quivering legs, lifted the hem of her dress over her hips and slowly forced her legs apart. Cyra arms flinched, a reflex to the hem of her dress being lifted over hips. She fought the urge to grab my wrists and stop me from exposing her. The heat that radiated from between her legs felt wet on my leg. She thrust her hips and rubbed her bare pussy against my thigh. She moaned and wrapped her arms around my neck.

"Don't move unless I tell you to," I growled into her ear.

Cyra grunted an unidentifiable reply. Her mind whirled at being ordered not to move. She had wondered about and had ached for new feelings and sensations to rip through her. I slid the pads of my index and middle fingers between her swollen and slick pussy lips. Her flesh surrendered so easily to my touch. I slathered her juice across my fingertips and smeared it over her mouth. I kissed Cyra hard as I pressed my throbbing cock into her belly. I slid my other hand up the back of her neck, grabbed a fistful of her hair and slowly pulled her head away from me, breaking our kiss.

"You smell and taste of pure sex, Cyra. Offer me what you hide from everyone else," I growled and licked what remained of her pussy juice from her mouth as I stared into her hungry eyes.

Cyra melted in my arms; she had found someone whose mere presence demanded that she give up control to him; a demand that she had waited a very long time for.

Cyra moaned, "Yes, you can have me whenever and however you want. Teach me how to please you. Make me feel what I need, please."

"Do you have any idea what I want from you at this instant, Cyra?"

She shook her head. The anticipation of what I was about to tell her made her pussy clench tight and set off an electric hum in her clit. She felt dirty, the kind of dirty she wanted to explore. The kind of dirty that left her soaked, dizzy, and weak in the knees.

I growled, "I'm aching for your full, soft lips gliding over the head of my cock, slowly, Cyra, ever so fucking slowly. Back and forth, just the head of my cock, until my cum fills your mouth."

"Take it from me. Give it to me, please, Gil," she whimpered.

I slid my hand to her dripping snatch and squeezed the hot and slippery mound that throbbed with wet heat between her legs.

"We don't have time, Cyra. You need to get back to the bar before your boyfriend arrives, right?" She was in pain, she needed to suck my cock, and she needed to cum. "We might not even have time to make you cum." I was enjoying arousing her and making her suffer.

"Please, I'm so close. My pussy hurts, it hurts so much," Cyra lamented as if her very soul was in agony.

"It arouses me to know that you are suffering. I want every inch of your beautiful body to suffer; I want to hurt you like you've never been hurt before, Cyra. It's how I get off," I grinned and pinched her clit between my thumb and index finger. "You are so fucking sexy when you're suffering. You suffer with a beauty unequalled by any other I have witnessed. I need you to suffer a little bit longer for me. And maybe, just maybe, I'll get you off."

Cyra gasped and remained deathly still. Being at the mercy of my will and not having a say in what, or what was not going to happen, provided her a most intense, sexual thrill. I released her clit and slapped her dripping pussy. She squealed and bit down on her bottom lip. She was drunk on the new sensations I was ripping out of her. She wanted more.

I slapped her pussy again and clawed at her swollen, dripping flesh. My fingertips dipped deep in-between her wet, hot, throbbing folds. "There are many desires you haven't had the courage to explore, Cyra, aren't there? I can see each and every one of them burning in your eyes. I can feel each and every one of them struggling, aching, pleading to be released from in-between your legs." Cyra's cheeks burned red with heat. She remained silent and turned her head away from me. She couldn't summon the courage to look me in the eyes and was terrified that I might ask her to tell me I was right.