A/N: I really don't like the idea of having an pre-chapter explanatory AN, but I also feel you guys deserve it. I said at the beginning of this story that sex between Ana and Scott would not be detailed out, as I didn't see a benefit of it to the story. Well, in this chapter that changed. I saw a benefit of it, and I hope you can forgive me this one scene where it comes to you from Scott's POV. That's been part of my struggle and why it's taken me almost a month to update this. Because I've been waffling back and forth on who, what, when, where, why and how I would or could present this to you guys. But here it is. This picks up where Ana's POV left off in the last chapter, before Scott gets punched by Taylor. It's graphic, but necessary, I feel, to show the dynamic of these two. If you chose not to read that part, as I'm sure some of you might, know that the end of his POV is about his background, so you may want to at least check that out. And in the next chapter, I will cover the aftermath of all this for Ana.
Remember: A huge piece of this story is the power Scott has over Ana, and this is the big catalyst for Ana to start to see the light. So I hope you guys can take it with a grain of salt, and realize that it was never going to be easy for Ana to come to terms with her life, and therefore it probably won't be easy for you to read the things that start to bring her there. On a positive note, in order to tackle this properly, I had to write the next chapter as well, so I should be done editing and ready to post it soon. Hopefully that chapter will get anyone who is uncertain about this chapter back on track with me, once they see where I went with it and why.
ANA
On her knees, she waited for Scott to arrive. She knew any minute now, he would walk through that door and she would offer to break her hard limit of breath play for him. She felt the anxiety begin to overwhelm her. Already she could feel the tight grip on her throat and it was making the panic bloom in her chest.
Taking in several deep breaths in a row, she forced her heart rate to slow and for her mind to calm. No. She needed to do this. Be strong, Ana.
Hearing the key slide into the lock on her door, she straightened up, making sure her stance was perfect before he swung the door open and set eyes on her.
"Anastasia," he greeted her immobile form. She heard the usual sounds of him kicking off his shoes, tossing his keys and wallet on her end table, and the shuffling of clothing.
"Stand," he commanded, and she did, rising in one fluid motion up off her knees. She was completely naked, just the way Scott had ordered her to be via text message before he came over. He always told her what to wear, down to the last detail. Sometimes it was a full outfit, sometimes undergarments, sometimes nothing at all.
He crouched down in front of her, crossing into her field of vision as he inspected her knees. There were bright red spots on them from where she'd been kneeling on the hard floor waiting for him. He cupped the back of her calves and ran his thumbs over the marks, humming his approval. His hands dragged up the backs of her thighs as he leaned forward and buried his nose between her legs. "Mmm, Ana," he groaned, leaning back and standing again, his fingers nimbly undoing first the cuffs of his shirt, and then the shirt itself.
"How does your shoulder feel?" he asked quietly, pressing a few kisses to the round of it.
"It feels good, Sir," she responded.
"Good," he muttered against her skin. "Up for some arm bondage, then? I've missed tying you up completely."
"Yes, Sir," she agreed.
"I'd like to do a little role play this evening. I'm thinking…" he paused in thought, then the pitch of his voice went up with his excitement, "I'm thinking prison. And inmate/guard scenario. You're sweet and innocent and I promise to protect you from the others in exchange for sex. You are fearful of prison, so you agree, but you are unhappy about it. I want you to pretend you're not enjoying it. I'm feeling particularly rough tonight. I'd like to hear lots of begging, and I don't want to have to stop and ask for it, understood?"
"Yes, Sir," she agreed. Scott loved role play scenarios. From strippers to burglaries, from maids to pretending she was his best friend's whore of a wife, she had played many a part in their scenes over the years.
He was quick to grab her and lead her to her room where they kept all the tools of the trade, including sex toys, punishment implements, bondage equipment and a plethora of costumes. Along the way he loosened his tie, yanking it up over his head and tossing it on the ground behind them as they walked.
"Take out the handcuffs. And get some rope ready," he instructed her once they were in her room. He stood watching her intently as she opened the chest of drawers and pulled the items out. Her hands were shaky as she continued to talk herself up to let him know about the adjustment to her hard limit. Just do it, Ana.
When she turned back to him, she sucked in a quick deep breath.
"Sir-" but he shot her a hard glare.
"Did I ask you to speak, inmate?" Her mouth snapped shut and her whole body deflated as she released a breath.
"No, Sir," she responded.
"If you expect me to take care of you in here, you need to learn to listen and do exactly as I say…"
Scott grabbed her by the arm and slammed her against the wall, twisting her wrist behind her back. "You speak when spoken too, do you understand me?"
"Sir," she said, hesitating for only a moment before she just blurted out. "Breath play."
Scott froze, his slightly more aggressive tone faltering. "What?"
"Breath play, Sir," she whispered against the wall. "I'm moving it to my soft limits for this evening."
In an instant she was flipped, her back against the wall as his hands came to rest on either side of her head, his muscular arms flexing as he pressing his weight on his hands.
"Like how?" he asked, his complete attention focus on her- he was noticeably turned on at the mere mention, which fueled her confidence.
"However Sir wants," she said, earning a barely audible groan from him.
"Why now?"
"To please you, Sir."
"You always please me, Ana. You don't need to break a hard limit to please me. So again I ask, why now?"
"Does it matter?" She asked, snippier than she intended to be. She just wanted to get this over with. Scott raised a warning eyebrow, but let it slide.
"Yes it matters, Ana. People don't just go breaking their hard limits on a whim. I need to know your motivation for this, to know if it's truly something safe to explore with you."
She pulled her lip into her mouth biting down hard for a second before releasing it. "I've displeased you in the recent past. More so than in any amount of time since we've been together. I want to prove my loyalty to you, my trust in you. And I want to reaffirm your trust in me."
He nodded slowly in understanding. It was no secret that things has been a little strained between them recently. So she knew her explanation would make sense to him. If they didn't have trust, what did they have? She needed to get them back on track so she could get her life back on track. And he would respect the fact that she was taking the initiative to prove this to him with something so precious.
"You're sure?" he questioned again.
"Yes," she breathed immediately, making her sound completely confident.
"God, Ana, you are phenomenal."
He leaned down, pressing his lips to hers in a deep and intense kiss. It was reverential. He kept her like that for quite a length of time, kissing her, consuming her. She hadn't been kissed like this by him in so long, not since she was a teenager and still learning.
"Change of plans," he mumbled against her mouth before his lips trailed down her jaw, and around to her ear. "I want to do an intruder scene instead. If we're finally going to do this, we're going to do it right."
She felt a mini wash of dread come over her. She normally liked the intruder scene, it was hot. The false sense of danger, the threat, the struggle. It was a fantasy she'd indulged many times for him, and she'd always enjoyed it. But with the added notion of choking, it scared her a little. He'd said he was in a rough mood. What if things got out of hand?
No.
This whole thing was to prove trust right? So she had to trust him, to trust that he would know when to stop, when it was too much. She was letting him explore this limit of hers- explore it. She had to trust him enough not to push it too far. He knew exactly how she felt about being choked. He cared about her. He wouldn't do anything to hurt her. And if all else failed, she had her safewords to protect her.
"Get dressed in that silk nightgown I bought you last month. Be up and moving in your room or the bathroom."
"Yes, Sir," Ana said, turning toward her bureau to find the white, lace trimmed nightie.
"And Ana," Scott said, turning back to her from the doorway. She looked up at him and his eyes were glowing with excitement. "Fight me." And he was gone.
SCOTT
Scott wished she hadn't just thrown this at him with no warning. This was something he'd always wanted from her, and he wished he could take him time with it, plan it out in full detail. But he wasn't about the pass up the opportunity. If she was willing to do this, he was going to do it. And being that this was something he had always loved and had always been good at, he was sure he could make her love it too, if she'd only ever given him the chance. Well this was that chance, and if he could just show her how pleasurable it could be, then next time he could take the time to plan it out fully. This would just have to suffice for now.
He waited in her living room, psyching himself up for it. The adrenaline was pumping through his veins and he could practically taste the anticipation on his tongue. He'd grabbed a backpack from her closet, prepacked with various things he liked to use during this kind of scene. It was something he liked to do often enough, pretending to be an intruder. Something about it just did it for him. The power was thrilling, everything was heightened. Plus, the struggle. God, he loved the struggle. And Ana was a good little actress when it came to playing fearful. She was a good little everything, honestly.
Tugging open the zipper on the backpack, he pulled out a couple of clothing items. He kept a variety of different types of outfits here, because it totally ruined scenes like this when he was forced to do them in his work clothes. It didn't play very believable as a burglar when he was still wearing a suit and tie. So he had other articles of clothing here for scenes, including the cargo pants and gray short sleeved t-shirt packed in this bag. Other than that, the bag contained some rope and tape and a few toys. Anything else he could need was stashed somewhere around Ana's room, always accessible.
Stripping himself of all of this clothing, Scott stood naked in Ana's living room, stretching his muscles, loosening up. He rolled his shoulders, even dropped down and did a few pushups, trying to expel some of this extra energy, thought all it served to do was get his heart pumping faster. He caught sight of himself in the mirror, seeing his muscles more clearly after the brief pumping he'd given them. He flexed the various muscle groups of his body, watching the way they all tightened and bulged at will. His body was lean, but strong, more cut than most men half his age. He stared into his eyes, seeing the feralness, the hunger. Tonight would satisfy his baser needs, slake a desire he'd held for a long, long time. Tonight would be animalistic, and he couldn't fucking wait.
Pulling his gaze away from the mirror, Scott pulled the cargo pants up his legs and over his hips. He followed it with the dark gray shirt, pulling it down over his abdomen. He retrieved the pair of heavy boots from Ana's coat closet, then moved to complete the ensemble with the ski mask he always kept shoved in the backpack. It was just a regular winter hat with holes at the eyes and mouth, but it completed the necessary look to truly make this whole act thrilling- the anonymity, the danger, the fear. It heightened everything for him, and it was why he loved the 'intruder' scene so much.
After he was dressed, he caught sight of himself one more time in the mirror. He felt the surge of pure exhilaration bolt through him. He'd done many adventurous things in his life- skydiving, bungee jumping, rock climbing, cliff diving, kayaking- but nothing compared to the thrill he was feeling of being on the cusp of finally living out this fantasy with Ana. Feeling the sudden urge to commemorate the night with a photo, he sauntered up the the mirror, staring his reflection dead in the eye. Slowly he pulled the ski mask back off, lifting his phone to snap the picture. Abandoning his phone, he tugged the mask back in place.
Wasting no more time, Scott grabbed the backpack off the couch and slung it over his shoulders, then snuck down the hallway, gingerly pushing open the slightly ajar door leading into Ana's bedroom. The room was dark save the soft glow emitting from the bathroom light. He could hear Ana's light voice humming to herself, the clink of items of the sink as she did whatever. He quietly moved so she became visible to him, and he watched her as she did what appeared to be a bedtime routine in front of the bathroom mirror, dressed in the silky nightgown he'd told her to wear. Good girl. He picked his moment, waiting until she was looking down so she couldn't see him coming. Then he threw himself into the room with her, wrapping his arm around her arms and chest and yanking her back hard against his body.
She yelped, but it was barely anything, and he felt a fission of disappointment run through him. He wanted more. He wanted a terrified scream. And she wasn't even trying to push away. She was just still in his tight hold. It angered him.
"Kick," he growled into her ear. "Scream, Ana. Fight me."
He hauled her up with the arm wrapped around her, turning to pull her out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. But he slammed to a halt when she kicked up her feet and leveraged them against the door frame to stop him from moving. Coupled with a slightly more satisfying scream from her lips, he felt the arousal begin to course through him again. Whipping them sideways, he maneuvered them through the doorway and out into the bedroom, tossing her onto her bed with ease.
He removed the backpack and tossed it onto the bed next to her, grabbing her ankle when he saw her shift, like she she was going to try and roll off the opposite side. She let out a little squeal as he yanked her back into place. With his free hand he pulled some rope out of the bag, easily, too easily, overpowering her and binding her wrists together before securing her to the wrought iron headboard he'd purchased specifically because it lended itself so well to various forms of bondage.
Clenching his teeth, he climbed on top of her, straddling her hips. Slowly he pulled the ski mask from his face, riffling his fingers through his now messy hair. Again the disappointment washed over him and she waited expectantly under him. "Fight," he hissed, frustrated that he'd now had to tell her twice during the scene.
After a momentary hesitation, he felt her legs move, her feet planting before she bowed her body up and off the bed, rocking her hips and throwing him off balance. Yes. He scooted back a little, straddling her thighs instead of her hips, pinning her so she could no longer use her legs as leverage. With deft fingers, he grabbed the edge of her nightie where it lay bunched up around her lower belly and tore it up the seam in one long, smooth rip. He snapped the thin straps as the front then yanked the material from underneath her body and tossed it aside.
She continued her light struggle against the ropes around her wrists, whimpering when his fingers trailed down her body and reached for her panties. She let out an unsolicited scream thing time, followed by a begging, "No, no, no, please don't." He eased up off her legs in order to move the material down to her feet. Bringing the lace to his nose, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, feeling the shudder of pleasure work it's way down his body. Her brief stint in begging was just that- brief, and he felt the anger well in him again. If she wasn't going to scream, he was going to make it so she couldn't. Balling up the scrap of material in frustration he, attempted to shove it between her lips, only for her to snap her mouth shut. "Open your mouth," he snapped at her, taking his index finger and trying to force it between her lips to pry them apart. When she shook her head in refusal, he raised a hand and slapped her hard on her thigh. "I said open your fucking mouth," he demanded. She screamed through her closed mouth as he continued to rain down slaps on her thighs and belly, watching the skin turn pink and angry. He knew he was hitting her hard, and fuck, it was turning him on. The resistance, the power. He was hard as a rock. Finally he brought a particularly hard slap down on her left breast, and her mouth popped up with a loud yell. Immediately he shoved the panties into her mouth, hearing the muffled whimpers escaping from her throat.
Sliding his hand up her silky thigh, he attempted to part it, but she clamped them together tightly, forbidding him entrance between her legs. He thrived on the mixed feelings of her denials, the power and control over being able to force her into cooperation was thrilling while it simultaneously had him fighting with his instinct to expect her submission and feel consuming frustration and anger when she didn't give it.
Tsk'ing at her refusal to allow him full access, he shook his head at her. Grabbing another length of rope, her looped it around her lower right thigh, yanking it to the side and attacking it under one of the multiple hooks he'd installed on the underside of her bedframe.
He looked at her, half spread open on the bed, feeling the displeasure creeping over him again. He shot her a look, and immediately she took her free leg and swung it over, clamping her legs closed again. He was getting really fucking sick of having to keep coaching her. She was always good about fighting him, and it was really fucking irritating that tonight, of all nights, she was ruining this for him.
She yanked at the hand restraints, twisting her body awkwardly in order to keep her legs together. Growling, he rounded the bed, taking ahold of her other leg and yanking it back into place. Again, his expertly crafted rope skills had her secured quickly, and she was now flat on her back, arms pulled tight above her head, legs bent and secured wide open. He stood back and admired his work, loving the sight of her bound and open, her skin splotchy where he'd hit her, the rope digging into her tight, delicate flesh.
"You are beautiful," he whispered, but the tone of it was sneering, authoritative, and he watched it send a shiver down her spine.
He could feel his green eyes blazing, trailing hotly over her naked body. His fingers grasped the back of his t-shirt just behind his neck, tugging the fabric off and leaving him naked from the waist up. He stood at the edge of the bed, looking down at her for an indeterminant amount of time. Taking a moment to read her body, really realizing that she seemed tense and unsure. It dawned on him that maybe she was just nervous about what was to come and needed something to take the the edge off. Instantly, he knew that had to be it. As her Dom he needed to tend to her emotional state here, and this was something he could easily take care of in order to loosen her up. He needed her to enjoy this so they could do it again and again. So, without preamble, he reached a hand forward and forcefully thrust a finger deep inside of her. She closed her eyes and let out a cry that was drowned out by the fabric in her mouth. He leaned over her, twisting his hand and digging his finger in deeper.
"Do you like that?" he growled.
She shook her head back and forth, knowing he wanted her to tell him no.
"Funny, you're wet," he said, pulling his finger from her and dragging her moisture up and around her labia before tapping her clit once, twice. "Do you want me to fuck you?"
Again she simply shook her head, and immediately his palm slapped down on her left inner thigh, then the right, then right between her legs. She let out a strangled cry, so he completed the circuit again, then again. He could feel the stinging heat between her legs, and watched as a tear rolled out past her left eyelid and descend down toward her temple.
"There we go," he whispered to her. "That's more like it."
Two long, thick fingers speared her again, this time relentless as they forcibly fucked her. Every ten seconds or so his free hand would reign down another harsh slap to her thighs or stomach or breasts as his hand sunk hard and deep and harsh inside of her. Her hips rocked,thighs fought the ropes, back arched as much as it could as her body sought an outlet for the onslaught of pleasure and pain he was simultaneously forcing on her. Fuck, yes. Finally she seemed to be enjoying this without overthinking.
"I know you want this. Come for me. I own you now, baby," he growled as he pumped his fingers mercilessly into her G-spot. He watched the sweat beading on her brow, the constant line of tears leaking from her eyes as he pummeled his fingers against her in a way that only someone so seasoned with her body would know how.
"Hold it Ana. Fight against it," he urged her quietly in a voice that warned her he was treading a razor thin line of his two roles. An intruder wouldn't warn her to hold it, that was the Dom in him talking. He wanted her to fight it, but the fact that he could see she was increasingly falling more and more apart wasn't slowing him down. He did wanted her to hold it,so when she did come, it would be hard and blissful and put her mind and body in a state of euphoria rather than tension.
And when he laid down another harsh smack to her already raw inner thigh, she finally tipped over the edge. He growled as her body seized around his fingers, pushing her through the intense orgasm he had practically forced upon her, drawing it out to the point where it was likely to spawn a second orgasm for her. But he cut short of letting her have that, wanting to keep her wet and needy for him. He watched her body keening for more, waiting for him, her thighs spread and her core so invitingly wet. Fuck, he wanted to be inside of her...
Sneering down at her in approval, he ran the tip of his tongue over the bottom of his top teeth. Popping the button on his pants, he lowered the zipper, tugging the waistband just enough to expose himself. He was painfully hard, his fist gripping his length tightly, his thick forearm muscles flexing as he gave it a couple of quick, dry strokes. He halted his movement abruptly, then a slow smile spread on his face. He kneeled on the bed, half over her and tugged her panties from her mouth, tossing them aside. Giving her no time to accumulate moisture to her mouth, he pressed the offending fingers against her tongue, sinking them back until they hit her throat and making her gag. He pulled back a little, then inserted again, over and over until her mouth was flooding with spit he wasn't allowing her to swallow.
When his fingers were saturated, he pulled them slowing from her mouth, the strings of spit stretching until they broke and lashed her lips and cheeks. Then he used his newly lubricated hand as he once again began to stroke himself.
"Since I removed the panties, I guess I'll have to think of something else to fill that mouth, hm sweetheart?" he grinned, inching his way toward her. She snapped her jaw shut and his eyes darkened, pleased at her instant cooperation this time, proving he'd done the right thing in getting her off to loosen her up. "Ah, ah, ah," he admonished, his hand unexpectedly coming down to grip her tightly around her throat. Her mouth popped back open and immediately he slid his cock between her lips, straight back to her throat. He felt her whole body tighten at the unexpected intrusion, her eyes widening as her throat hardened under his hand, letting him know she was about to start gagging or choking.
"Breathe through your nose." It was a warning, his teeth gritted as he felt her jaw react and begin to close on him. It took a moment, but she heeded his advice, relaxing immediately, allowing him to relax too. He actively pressed on the outer edge of his palm against the sensitive spot on the front her throat, his thumb and middle finger strategically placed as the angles of her jaw, keeping it pulled down and open. He began to move, slowly, sliding himself further, back to her throat, out, in, out, in. His thrusts turned progressively from lazy to urgent as he became increasingly sure she wasn't going to tense up on him again. His grip slid with his force until his hand was no longer around her jaw and now, finally, around her actual neck.
His made sure his grip was not too tight, easing her into this before he went full blown with it, keeping most of the pressure of his hand on the sides of her neck with his fingers, not on her throat with his palm. The urge to be inside her became overwhelming, and in a flash decision he withdrew from her mouth completely, climbing on the bed between her spread thighs and slamming full force into her.
She cried out loudly, her hips lifting to his as he fucked into her with deep, rough strokes. And finally he was able to fully feel comfortable taking her the way he'd been planning. It was hard holding back, but he knew he had to until she was open enough to handle thing. And now she was vocal and receptive, not quiet and withdrawn, and so he threw caution to the wind and splayed his palm flush against her throat, tightening his grip. Finally, oh God. This was what he'd been waiting for. The build up was nothing, just a tease for this moment, and it was everything. Fucking her ruthlessly, Ana finally started fight back, confirming that he'd made the right decision, taking care of her first, tending to her needs, and now she was returning the favor. Committing to her role, he watched her fight against her restraints, tugging her limbs in a haphazard struggle with no relent.
Her abdomen undulated, her hips jerking with what little leeway her torso had to move. "Fuck, yes," he groaned, basking in the glory of the way she squirmed below him. He couldn't fight the grin that spread across his face as he continued to pummel into her at a punishing rhythm.
Her lips parted, whimpering high pitched gasps escaping from the top of her throat, each one cut off by a jolt of her body as he rammed into her enough to jar her vocal cords.
Every dozen seconds or so, he would ease his grip on her throat, alleviating the pressure enough to allow full volume grunts to escape her lips. Her breathing picked up, harsher and faster, her whole body tightening as she climbed higher and higher. Her head started to drop, but he didn't want anything to hinder the sight of his hand wrapped around her neck- he was too transfixed by it. So he used his free hand to grab a fistful of her hair and yank it back, opening her up to him again. It cost him the leverage of his arm, but he had enough in his knees to keep fucking her furiously. He even managed to find a way to secure his arms around her head and neck and use her own body against her, pushing down on her every time he thrusted inside of her.
Her mouth was wide open so he took advantage shoving her tongue inside, feeling the possession of her completely. But he didn't want to occupy her mouth for long, because the noises coming from her were so primal, so unlike anything he'd ever heard from her, or anyone for that matter, before. It was beyond anything he could have dreamed and he didn't want to drown them out. So instead he moved his mouth to her shoulder, working the skin roughly with his tongue and teeth.
"That's it. Just like that," he moaned, feeling the waves of pleasure coming at an exponentially fast rate. "You fucking slut. You like this don't you?" Her whole body tensed underneath him, her back arching trying to absorb and dispel the intense pleasure. "You're getting so tight. Are you going to come for me you little whore?"
God, he was so close. So, so close. His grip tightened, knowing she was right there. This was what it was all about… working her airway just right, all leading up to this moment, where he was in total control of keeping her hanging precariously on this side of consciousness. He gripped tighter, and just as she seized up in orgasm, he released, allowing all of that blood to rush to her brain and the oxygen to light her system on fire.
Her body went slack, and he swelled with pride at accomplishing his goal. It was enough to push him over the edge too, his body finally giving in to the overwhelming pleasure as he rocked his hips tightly against hers, a long string of moans escaping him as he slowed to a deep grind before finally stilling. He panted against her neck, brushing his lips against collarbone before sinking his teeth into the round of her shoulder, kissing, sucking, biting, kissing, sucking, biting.
Drained. He was completely drained, his legs like jello. He pulled in deep, full breaths as he tried to regulate his breathing and heart rate. Slowly he felt it all coming down, the strength returning enough to move. He lifted his head, looking down into her beautiful blue eyes before slowly uncurling his fingers which had tightened again around her neck while he'd been lost in bliss. He watched her eyes flit closed, stretching out her head and her limbs, to the extent that she was able.
"That was amazing, Ana," he whispered, placing a tender kiss to her throat. She flinched, her body still wound tightly from the intensity of her orgasm. "Relax baby," he whispered, sitting up, rubbing her shoulders, down to her arms in a calming manner, "That was a really intense orgasm. Just relax. Let your body come down."
Leaving Ana to shower and get some rest, he was overwhelmed by the success of the evening as he walked back into her living room to get dressed and leave. Ana removed a limit for him in order to prove her trust and devotion to him, and he'd delivered on providing her an experience that she'd never had before. It was everything he could ever want from his submissive as a Dominant. Keeping Ana in his life was one of the best decisions he'd ever made, keeping her after class that fall day at Montesano High being the best. He was more proud of that than he was of GHI, and he was damn proud of GHI.
Catching sight of his naked body in the same mirror from earlier, he took note of his own body. He was a very fit man, one who loved to kept himself in peak physical condition. He had a handsome face, he knew that, because women were not shy to tell him so. He knew he was well past the age of a young man, but that didn't mean he couldn't look just as impressive. He finally had everything he ever needed to back up what he always knew he was. When he was just a science teacher, he wasn't much of anything. Always smart, but not always utilizing it. Always attractive, but not taking care of himself like he did now. He spent years being overlooked, until one year he changed.
He'd been exceptionally low on himself, and was looking for something to make him feel powerful. He had these ideas, these passions for helping the world with environmentally friendly technologies, but he was just a science teacher who has missed his window to do anything important. He dated, but wasn't ever interested in love, or kids. But he knew he wanted more out of life. Enter BDSM. It gave him something he'd been missing, immediately filling the void he'd never known how to fill. He did everything he could, picking up extra hours coaching, joining committees, chaperoning events, just to be able to afford the club fees. He found true joy and almost total fulfillment within those walls.
He'd wished he could find a submissive to have outside of the club, but that was a luxury he couldn't afford. And then one night, after an especially intense scene where he was feeling particularly powerful, it hit him. Why was he wasting his time as a science teacher when he knew he wanted to be, and had the potential to be, more? No one said you needed a degree to start a company. He was smart, and knew that he was smart enough to do this. And if he was successful, he would be financially secure enough where he could afford to have a submissive however he wanted. Hell, maybe he could afford someone who would agree to TPE. He'd have to give it all up while he worked to afford starting up a new company, but it'd be worth it if he became a success in the end, wouldn't it? Then he'd finally have the career and the lifestyle he wanted so badly. He didn't want to just settle for power during sex anymore. He wanted it all the time, in every facet of his life.
So he quit going to the clubs and focused on saving all of that money for a business. He spent most of his time planning out everything he needed in order to start up, and utilized working out in order to refocus his energy. The change in him was palpable. He was stronger in all facets of his life- mentally,physically, emotionally. He had a newfound confidence, a stronger, leaner physique, and he found pride in himself, which he thought he had long since lost. Everything was going smoothly. And then...
Anastasia Steele.
She was beautiful, and he was enchanted by her the moment he looked up from his list of students to call her name for attendance. She looked up at him with those big blue eyes, all shy and awkward and he was a goner. He had to have her. The problem with submissives at the club was that it cost so much damn money. He'd been forced to quit so he could save for what would become GHI. Sure, you could look for submissives outside of the club, but most expected to be taken care of in some way. They didn't want to just submit to a broke science teacher, and right now he couldn't afford to offer them anything other than his Domination in a scene. But the moment he saw Ana, the wheels started turning. He was stressed out and hadn't fucked anyone in months, and was desperate to exert his control over someone. He wanted her, and if he could convince her that she needed help and that he could provide her that help, he could train her to submit to him and have a fully accessible submissive without the pricetag. He missed BDSM and as much as working out had helped him, it was a poor substitute for the control dominating someone provided. If he could pull this off, he could get that taste of what it was like to Dominate someone, enough to sate him until he could get fully back into the swing of things once GHI eventually took off. He needed to do a lot of planning, but he'd mapped out to save some money and present his business plan to the bank for a loan for the rest, as as long as they accepted, he was sure he'd be ready to start GHI some time around her graduation, so it was perfect. He'd use her for the duration, and then cut her loose when she went off to college and he quit MHS to start GHI.
But things with Ana had turned out more successful than he'd ever imagine possible. He'd lured her in with a lie about rough teenage years, so she felt a sense of understanding and compatibility between them. He couldn't tell her that he'd come into BDSM in his forties. If he thought he'd been exposed to in his teens, it would help her feel okay about it. He'd just planned on using her as a way to exert control and slake that desire for a little kink. It was taboo, to have a sexual relationship with a student, and he could get off on maybe tying her up a little bit, spanking her. Degrade her gently, in the name of helping her. It would satisfy that need in him. He could get away with doing less painful punishments because he could make up for it in playing the mental game of domination and control.
But she made it all so easy. Too easy. She was so trusting and so willing to please… it was heaven. Ana was literally heaven. Everything about her, from her sweet as pie personality to her deliciously sinful body, which had really filled out by the time high school ended. She has no idea how knockout gorgeous she was. And she was all his- always had been. He'd never planned on really bringing her deep into the BDSM world; afterall, she was so young. But she was just so willing. And then he found himself becoming very possessive of her, something else he hadn't expected. He wasn't the kind of guy to become attached to someone, but he felt a very real sense of ownership over Ana, which translated to protectiveness and jealousy over her. When it was time to let her go, when she was getting ready to graduate, he couldn't. It forced him to make decisions that he sometimes did feel badly about, like convincing her not to go to college. But in the end, he knew he needed to know what she was doing and who she was doing it with, and that was not going to happen if she was out of his sights in classes all day. He needed her nearby, and he needed her available to him. And even though he knew he was being selfish by maneuvering and encouraging rifts in her friendships and family relationships, and denying her education and other life experiences, he had to keep her safe and he had to keep her his.
And eventually, he realized that keeping her with him instead of sending her out into the world didn't really matter, because Ana was happy. He worked hard to make sure of that. They had a great working relationship, and a phenomenal sex life. He provided her with all the material possessions she could ask for. It may not be the life she'd have had if he hadn't been involved, but he made sure she had a good life. She enjoyed this life as much as he did. He really didn't think she understood how sexual of a person she was. She exuded a body confidence most women didn't, all the while maintaining modesty outside of the bedroom. It was something he gave himself credit for, because he taught her to be unashamed of herself in scenes, but demanded she keep proper outside so as not to draw attention from other men. If he hadn't been around to teach her that, she likely would have went the way of most other girls, spreading their legs for the first drunken guy to throw them a compliment. Ana was better than that. He locked eyes with himself in the mirror again. Ana was better than everyone.
Shaking his head, he slipped back on his suit pants and slid his shirt over his arms, smoothing it down to do up the buttons. It was frustrating that everything was practically perfect for so long, and then out of the blue, things with her had recently become strained. But he knew he was partially to blame for that. She was questioning things, doing things for the first time and it had him acting out. Everything had been so smooth with them for so long, he guessed he should have expected a time when the waters might get a little choppy. And all of this Christian Grey shit was wearing very, very thin on him. So thin, he'd made the biggest mistake of his BDSM history and hurt her during a scene. He'd never really hurt anyone before, and Ana was the last person he ever wanted to hurt. This night, her showing him that she was loyal, that she did want to be with him, it meant everything to him. He was a lucky man to have her.
Grabbing his tie and shoving it in his pocket, Scott draped his suit jacket over his forearm before leaving her apartment. Things would finally be back to normal with them now. She had given him a very special gift in trust him tonight, and he was earned it by giving her a couple fantastic orgasms while choking her, and she hadn't even needed to call out 'yellow', let alone 'red'. He felt a renewed confidence as he walked out of the back door of her building to his car. He felt a renewed claim of her, a renewed sense of total possession. He smirked to himself, then started whistling lightly, swinging his key ring around on his finger absentmindedly. Christian Grey who?
He was almost to his car when he felt someone tap his shoulder. He turned, and before he even could register what was happening, everything went black.