The Exception To All Rules

The atmosphere in the overcrowded room was light, jovial. Most of the inhabitants were either drunk, stoned, or drunk and stoned, but Megan was the exception to all rules. She sat on a small wooden bench in a corner watching her friends sway to the beat of the music. Julia was completed obliterated currently and dancing dangerously close to her crush. Deanna was dancing with Rose and trying to avoid the hungry glances of several of the men in the room. That was usually the case when Dee had recently had her heart broken: she avoided anything with a penis.

Megan sighed. The truth was, she too should be avoiding all that is male in this room and this house party. She had simply been dragged here because that's what friends that wanted to party did: they dragged their other friends along for the ride. So here she was sitting alone and watching her lover- who could simply never be her boyfriend- DJ a set of tunes that included Akon, Usher, and Lil Jon screaming, "YEAH! OKAY!"

"If you were to be with me," his voice was deep and masculine, promising that his words were the truth and only, "you would never be second best. You would not be a dirty little secret." There was a low growl from somewhere inside his chest as he leaned further into my neck. "You would never want to be anything less than owned by me," he teased and coaxed. "Say you want me to make you mine."

The truth was that I wanted to belong to someone, anyone, who would not make me the second best baby. Alas, my current relationship was fairly simple: I was the Other Woman. My lover had a famous girlfriend that he was not going to leave for my unknown name, and it was just that terribly, unfortunately simple. Here I stood before one of his best friends being offered a chance at something more.

"I won't leave you to suffer in silence for a second," he assuaged with a soft nibble of my earlobe. "You'll be at my side always."

"What if I don't want that?" I challenged. But I did. I wanted to be owned and kept. It was my inner-submissive, I suppose.

"But you do want that," he stated as his hands began to wander down my ribs. His fingers dipped low and began to massage my stomach, working towards the waist of my jeans. Clearly, he intended to seduce me in full view of our friends and the band's road crew. I wasn't going to swing that way. "You want to be wanted," he purred and grazed teeth over my earlobe.

Tension filled my body and mixed and swirled with the passion and lust that he was exciting in me. And so, left with the choice, I made no choice at all. I simply whispered: "Take me somewhere private."

Within an hour, we were back at the hotel for the night, sequestered into the privacy of his single room. He had wasted not a drop of time, pushing me against the door as we entered the dark room. "You want me," he taunted with his tongue. "And you're going to let me own you."

As he spoke, he was removing the simple black leather belt from his battered old jeans. He smirked as he wound the item around his knuckles in a power display. "I'm going to tie you up," he stated as he raised my arms above my head with his left hand. "And then I'm going to take my time with you. Does he take his time with you?"

"No," I confessed. He couldn't take his time with me: he has a girlfriend to attend to. I was simply there for his erotic release. To try and put it into any other terms would be a lie. "He can't take his time."

"He could," he grinned as he wrapped the belt around my wrists and hooked it onto a piece of metal protruding from the door. "He could show you such pleasure, if he only wanted to. I want to show you the world. Do you want me to take you on a journey?"

"Yes," I whispered.

"Say my name," he demanded as he ran his large hands up underneath my t-shirt. "Say my name."

"Yes," I breathed heavily. "Yes, Paul."

He looked satisfied with this. "I want you to scream for me. Be loud. Be wild. I want you to come alive tonight."

"But, I-"

A finger pushed against my lips. He grinned. "No. There are no exceptions to any rule tonight. We are going to do things that you never dreamed were possible. And when it's all over, if you believe you can go back to him-" he allowed his voice to grow softer and softer before trailing off. "I'm going to make you forget," he smirked. He took that moment to lift my t-shirt over my head. I had not worn a bra. He smirked. "So beautiful." I was silent as he stepped back and eyed my body with a certain determination and hunger. He licked his lips and then smirked. "Are you in any pain?"

"No."

"Good," he winked. "I'll be right back."

I fought feebly against the restraint of his belt. I didn't want to escape and I had nowhere to go but into the bed. I was over the romance and wanted the pain. So I waited. He returned quickly with a candle and a look of sheer lust.

"This won't hurt," he whispered as he tilted the candle over my chest. Hot wax dripped down onto my breasts. Some dripped down as low as my nipple before hardening in place. There was no pain, only a strange burning from the heat. He grinned. "You like that, don't you."

"It didn't hurt," I observed with a smile.

"Good baby," he assuaged, running a hand through my hair. "Here comes more," he laughed as he tilted the candle over my nipples and then beside my stomach. Again, the sensation was awkward but not painful. "You're a kinky little minx," he grinned as he blew out the candle and reached up toward my hands. "I need to get you on the bed now."

He carried me quickly across the room and set me down gently, a strange contradiction from the hot wax play of moments before. The mattress was soft and smelled like lilies, and the sheets underneath were red silk. He watched me as I made these observations, grinning with each new realization that crossed my face. He had planned this night. He had plans. Big plans. "Do you like it?" he whispered low into my ear. "Do you like what I've done for you?" I nodded gently, barely a movement of my head. "Does he do these things for you?" he prodded further. "Does he seduce you?"

No. He does not. But I tried to forget that and to allow myself to only feel the here and now. Paul's strong hands kneading the flesh of my shoulder as his lips breathed hot moisture onto my neck. I was covered in hardened wax. I was marked.

"I am going to do things to you," he sat up and gestured for me to join him. "Things that you didn't dream were possible." He gestured me further back on the bed, against the headboard. His movements were cocky and assured as he propped pillows behind me and set me about like a display, a naked porcelain doll. "You make a perfect toy," he observed almost simultaneously with my thoughts.

Moments later, he had added restraints to my wrists and tethered them to the frame of the bed. I was oddly comfortable, but my movement was severely limited. This had clearly been his goal because a gentle nod assured me that he was certain he had achieved results. He smirked, "Now I am going to mark you."

He retrieved a lighter from his pocket and adorned a deviant grin. "This might hurt a bit," he offered flatly as he raised my right arm up slightly. Seconds later there was a searing pain as he burned the flesh of the underside of my arm. The smell was nauseating; the pain was only slightly bearable. The result was a small "P" burned into my flesh at that exact point. He gazed at his work proudly. "You are mine now," he assured me. "I cannot send you back to him like this."

Tenderness returned to his features as he placed the lighter onto the bedside table and began stroking my long brunette hair. His erection pressed against the fabric of his jeans, dangerously attempting to rub against the softness of my thigh. I cooed at this feeling, wanting to feel him without this foreign barrier between us. He obliged quickly, removing his pants and allowing our skins to touch. "Beg me to put this inside of you," he demanded as he held himself in the grip of his fist. "Beg me to make you scream my name."

"Please."

"Please, what?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Please, Paul," I licked my lips. "Please."

"Are you sure you want this?" he exaggerated his caresses, running his hand along his length and placing his thumb over his tip. He squeezed himself and grinned. "Are you sure you can handle this?"

"Please," I begged again. It was a game. I could play this game. I would forget about my lover and my burnt flesh, my credit card bills and my rent payments. I could be his slut for one night if that was what was required of me.

He pushed my thighs apart gently, watched my every reaction. With a sly smirk, he placed his thumb onto my clitoris. I reacted vocally. "Mmm, you like that," he smiled proudly. "Do you want more of that, baby?"

"Yes."

"Or do you want this?" he questioned as he allowed the tip of his cock to graze over my clitoris. Needles tipped with the nectar of the God's jabbed into my spine. I wanted whatever touch he would give me. He knew this. He continued to rub himself on my moistness. "Do you want me to be soft and gentle?" he was laughing. "Or do you want me to hurt you with this?"

"Hurt me."

"I can't hear you," he grinned.

"Hurt me, Paul. Please."

Quickly, he thrust inside me until his fist was buried against my labia and there was not an inch of space between us. He removed his hand and brought it to his lips, smirking. His tongue traced over a moistened finger, and he tasted my body on his skin. Then he offered me a chance. "Drink," he demanded. "You taste like honey."

I sucked his finger as he slammed his body forcefully into mine. He bottomed out and I felt pain. I reacted immediately and he smiled. We played this game as I sucked his finger and begged. I wanted to hurt and be taken; I wanted to be owned and subjected. But most of all, I believe that I wanted the pain because I deserved the pain. And Paul had somehow seen this undiscovered match lurking deep inside of me, and he had been observantly attracted and lustfully quick to light the flame.

"I'm going to hurt you now," he growled as he reached onto the bedside table again. "But you will be better for this pain."

"Hurt me, Paul."

He brandished a small needle and raised it up for me to see. "I'm going to pierce your flesh with this needle, as I am piercing your body with my cock," he breathed heavily.

"Yes," I moaned. "Yes."

"A souvenir of our fuck," he winked as he placed the sharp point against the tender pink skin of my right nipple. "Take a breath," he demanded as he pulled himself nearly out of my body. He perched in that awkward position for a long moment before he drove himself and the needle into my skin in unison. The resulting feeling was of being completely filled and owned. The pulsing in my nipple served to escalate the pleasure between my legs. I screamed and forced myself further onto his cock. "Look at yourself," he prodded. "So beautiful."

I opened my eyes to the sight of blood trickling softly down my chest. The needle was perfectly centered in my nipple. Paul was perfectly placed between my thighs and his cock was glistening in the overhead lights. "Do the other one," I pleaded. "Please, Paul. Pierce me."

"You're a good baby," he ran his hands through my hair again and the feeling was electric. He worked inside me in short, driving strokes before he reached again to the table for a second needle. "Am I hurting you?"

"No, please do it."

"You're a doll," he smiled as he again pulled almost completely from my body and thrust inside as he pierced my left nipple. This time, the pain outweighed the pleasure. I felt my breasts light on fire. I screamed and tossed my head from side to side. I had wanted this. I did want this. I waited for the pain to subside and it didn't. It only grew with intensity as he slid small rings into the piercings, and a new fire lit. "You're hurting," he observed as he clamped beads into each ring and grinned. "I can stop the pain for you. I can ease your suffering."

And with that, he brought my right nipple into the warmth of his mouth. He swirled the wetness of his tongue over the sore nub, and the pain subsided for a moment. Instead, I felt my clitoris light with desire. "Please, Paul," I begged. "Fuck me."

His cock slid back inside me, he growled with entry and brought his mouth down onto my left nipple. The feeling was overwhelming and erotic. I felt my orgasm nearing as he rubbed his thumb in slow circles over my clit and worked his tongue in a matching pattern around my areola. "Are you close?" he questioned gently.

"So close, yes."

"I'm going to cum inside of you," he stated simply and rubbed my clit faster. "I'm going to fill you," he grinned and ran the tip of his tongue over the soft space between my breasts. "Beg for it!"

"Please, Paul," I begged pathetically. "Please make me cum!"

"Fuck yes," he growled and thrust deeply.

"Please," I breathed as I ran my fingernails over his strong back. I felt the muscles contract there, and I dug deeper into his skin drawing blood. "Please fuck me, Paul."

"Yes," he growled like a great jungle cat. "Yes."

"I'll mark you," I grinned as I drew more of his blood out and onto my fingers. "I'll make you mine."

"Yes."

"And then we'll belong to each other."

"Yes," he roared.

"Do you want to belong to me?" I asked softly as I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him deeper inside of me. I didn't want to lose a drop when he came. I wanted everything he had to offer me. And more.

"Yes," he whispered as he glanced up and met my gaze. His eyes shone with a furious brown fire. "I want you."

We came simultaneously, a feat that I had never been able to achieve with any previous lover. And then there was the languid silence as he collapsed on top of me and crushed my new piercings to the heat of his chest. There was a moment of white heat before I felt a second, smaller orgasm rock my body.

Paul raised up onto his forearms and smirked down at me. "Did I hurt you?"

"Yes. And no."

"Are you alright?" he inquired softly, curiously.

"I'm fine," I smiled.

He nodded and allowed himself to collapse beside me. He placed his pinkie inside the small hoop on my left nipple and grinned. "That was the most erotic moment of my life."

"Mine too," I agreed with a gentle nod.

"And you really can't go back to him now," he continued with a hoarse whisper. "You're mine now and he will know it." He paused for a long moment. Silence filled the room as his body spooned against mine. Finally, I felt him grin into my neck. "I'm keeping you, you know. There's no arguing it. I own you now."

I glanced at the dried wax across my body and the dried blood on my hands and underneath my fingertips. There was a small mark on my arm where he had burnt his first initial into my flesh. I grinned. "You own me, Paul." I turned to face him and wrapped my arms around to his back, tracing the outline of a deep scratch mark. He hissed. I only smirked brighter. "And I own you."