Guess what? I'm still not Kirkman

"Fever, I'm a slave to

No one misbehave too

Fever, they're misunderstood

Wouldn't leave you if I could" Fever by The Black Keys

So, we found ourselves in the place where he asked me to be his: the trattoria in which that auspicious night was held.

-What'cha say 'bout what happen'd 'tween us?- he inquired me, his deep eyes searching me, waiting for an answer.

-I felt like a pet- my tone was harsh-, but it was mindblowing-

-Ya' wanna do't 'gain?- his voice had a subtle pleading undertone.

-I wanna be yours- I smiled, after a paused silence -But don't be too harsh on me.

It was the first time I actually saw him smile, even if it was a little one. I can't live without him, so the choice was a question of lust. Did I want to be his? Absolutely... The only thing is that I didn't know where this was going to lead me. Love? Losing my job? A broken heart?

I was playing Russian Roulette, but I needed to live a little. All my life was full of woulda-coulda-shouldas, prom corsages and football games. This man was trying to open my mind to new experiences. And he is hotter than hell, with all his mysteriousness and predatory demeanor.

He paid and got me to my dorm: -Kitten, when do ya start class?
-Next Monday. First class is at 9. Why?
-Just ta' know when I should drop ya' home.- He lighted a smoke, leaning on his bike -See ya' t'morrow.

The rest of the week was just simply boring. All I did was working, watching movies with the girls and getting myself mentally ready to start class. I was just waiting for the weekend, like a little girl on Christmas Eve.

Saturday passed in a blur, so when the time to go home with him came, expectation was flooding me. Don't judge me, I felt the most alive when I was at his mercy.

-Kitten, we'r gunna try somethin' new- He said, looking down at me, kneeling on the floor, blindfolded, hands bound behind me with only my panties and heels on and my hair tied in a ponytail. He had my hair grabbed, my head aligned with his thigh.

-I wanna fuck ya sweet liddol' mouth. Open it- So did I, and felt his shaft being embraced by my mouth. His hips were pushing him inside it and I could hear him practically roar. This was making me feel ashamed, he was forcing himself in my mouth! But I couldn't deny the absolute rendition to him made me wetter every minute.

When he came, my mouth was flooded by his seed and after a few seconds I was hauled up and kissed ravenously, my hair pulled and crushed against a feverish body that didn't belong to me. He broke the kiss apart and caressed my cheek and the side of my neck in a swift motion: -Yer so beautiful. I'm dyin' t'make ye scream my name.

I was dying to scream his name too, but something was upsetting me: why I couldn't see him bare naked? Was it part of the dominance? I just wanted to explore him all over, giving him the pleasure he was denying me. He changed my restrainings in a wrist and ankle locking spreader bar, made me kneel and teased my exposed folds with a vibrating wand. I felt I was soaking wet and I started to cry because of the frustration.

-I'm gunna whip yer ass 'cuz yer been a very spoiled child, kitten. Ye can always get what'cha want- So he proceeded to lower my panties to my knees and spank me ten times with his flogger. I cried out loud, because I was so utterly humiliated and frustrated I felt I could burst. When I finally heard the foil packet being ripped and the feeling of fullness in my core, I was exhilarated. I came scandalously, savouring the long expected orgasm that shattered my nerves.

The next morning I was called out for breakfast and I found him sitting on one of the kitchen stools, fully dressed and barefoot. He loves being barefoot at home. I slided next to him and he grabbed my arm and pushed me to the floor: -Pets don't eat on da table, kitten. Mind yer manners.

Great, I was going to be treated like a dog. If looks could kill, he would be dead at that moment. He stared at me dead in the eyes, put me a collar and placed a plate in front of me.

-Eat- he commanded -Or I'm gunna shove't down yer throat m'self.

The question is, could I really get up, smack the plate over his head and stab him with the butter knife?

Yes, I could. But I had better ideas in mind.

I'm not going to update the story for 2 weeks because I'll be on finals :/ But more hot stuff is ahead ;)