I want to apologize for taking so long to update, so I took extra time on this chapter for you guys!
btw.. I have one question that has nothing to do with this story.. How the hell do you get your hair to be platinum/silver?!
My hair has always been brown FOR EVER and I dyed it black not too long ago and the color only lasted for 2 weeks. Then it turned brownish red. and I hate it! So I had one of my friends bleach it aiming for a lighter tone and guess what? My hair is literally orange. like carrots and oranges and grapefruits orange... so I bleached it again and its still orange. any tips?
Anyway.. This story is Rated M
I do not own Naruto!
Don't forget to check out my other story If I Were Her it is also part of this story and there is also some naruhina.
Happy reading!
Hinata's Lost Journals.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Nearly Lunchtime...
After sleepless night, I headed to the coffee shop before work. Ava was chatty. She wants to talk men and personal lives every time she sees me, and I've never felt less like connecting with someone else about my personal life than I do now. I prefer to write down my thoughts. Writing lets me think out what I feel without anyone else influencing me, and that isn't likely to change. I'm beginning to want to avoid the coffee shop. In a space of ten minutes, Ava has asked me about Kiba, Naruto, Sasuke, and another artist who apparently comes into the gallery sometimes, but hasn't since I arrived.
While I was still there, the client I took to Kiba's private gallery called my cell phone to see if she could take a relative by to see a work she was thinking of buying. Ava was all over my reaction, which was pure dread, and wanted to know what was wrong. I didn't tell her. She was nothing but friendly, but I don't even share my worries and concerns with long-term friends. Besides, she's gorgeous and composed, eight years older than me, and apparently from a wealthy family, from what she said today. What do we have in common?
Oh, right. The men in our lives that she knows well and I don't. Finding out that she has bedded, or could bed, all of them won't help me. In fact, it might really mess with my head. I'd rather not know.
When I arrived at the gallery, it took me half an hour to make the dreaded call to Kiba to ask to drop by with my customer. I kept thinking about Naruto telling me that Kiba never does private showings, and how this would probably feel very intrusive to him.
What if he refused? I'd have an unhappy customer and an unhappy artist, which meant an unhappy Naruto. An unhappy Naruto isn't on my list of things to do, any more than wasting Kiba's time again is. I was actually relieved to get Kiba's voicemail and be forced to leave a message.
But what made me open my journal right now to write is Temari. She's bothering me beyond her basic bitchiness, and something very odd happened today with her. She was in Naruto's office for about fifteen minutes and then stormed by my office in an obvious hissy fit. Apparently she left the gallery, and no one knows where she is. I'd thought from the beginning that her job was on the line, but since I've gained respect for how well she handles events. I'm just not sure she wants to handle them. Maybe the new intern who started today was brought in to replace that part of her job, and I'm handling the sales aspect?
I have a customer. More later.
Evening...
I'm still in disbelief. I can't believe what I did today. In a public place! After I finished with my customer, Temari returned to the gallery all smiley and happy, in a way she never acts. I'm not sure what that means, but when I volunteered to pick up sandwiches for me, Hanabi, the new intern, and Lee, she not only wanted to join us, she offered to pick them up. A very odd offer from her, and way too nice to fit her personality. Somehow, though, the sandwiches turned to pizza, so I headed to the sandwich shop on my own.
Truth be told, I needed some fresh air. All morning I'd been thinking about Saturday night, and how I'd actually said "Yes, Master" in hopes of being rewarded with another lick or flick or touch, when I should have been focused on work. And when I wasn't thinking about sex today, I was overanalyzing everything in my life in a way I've never done before.
I have my dream job, and I'm distracted, which I would never have thought possible. Everything used to be so simple. I wanted to work in the art world, and I drove my life toward that. Then my mother died and I have to pay the bills, so I drove my life toward that. I was in control of what I was doing, even if I wasn't happy about the direction I was headed. Now, I'm in this complicated web but still living a dream, and it's unfamiliar and strange, but exciting. And control? After today, I can say with certainty that it is lost.
Which brings me back to the crazy thing I let myself do. I braved the chilly San Francisco weather to walk several blocks to the deli, all bundled up. Everything was so normal when I entered the small restaurant. I ordered an egg salad sandwich and sat down at one of the small tables by the door with my food and my journal, intending to start this entry. That's when my cell phone buzzed with a text from him. Go into the restroom it read.
Adrenaline rushed through me to the point that I could barely catch my breath. He was here? How was that possible? No, I told myself; he didn't say he was here. He just ordered me to the restroom. Who knew what kind of mind games he played as "Master"? I was in new territory. Knowing this, I pulled myself together and calmed down. But I was eager to discover what he wanted.
Quickly, I stood up and headed to the restroom, leaving my lunch on the table. The sign led me down a narrow hall to the left where there were two unisex doors. I took a guess, opened the first door, and went inside. He was there looking deliciously him. (How else do you describe perfection?) Heat poured through me and settled in my belly.
He stepped forward, removing the small space between us, towering above me. "Put your purse on the counter," he ordered softly.
I shoved it onto the counter I hadn't even looked at. Who cares what the restroom looks like when he's in it?
"What were you supposed to reply to my order, Hinata?" he asked, and there was no missing the warning in his voice.
It took me a moment to process, but I remembered what I'd been taught Saturday night, how I'm to reply to everything he commands. "Yes, Master."
"Take off your panties."
The order aroused me like I've never been aroused, but the, I say that about a lot of things with this man. I also do a lot of this willingly I'd have never thought I would. "Yes, Master," I replied again, and the heated approval in his blue eyes was like a stroke of his hand over my already aching sex.
I tugged the skirt of my pencil-cut black dress up to my hips and slipped my tiny purple thong down my legs and over my high heels. When I started to tug down my hem, he ordered me to leave it up so that I was bare for his viewing. I complied and gave him another "Yes, Master."
The I dared to dangle my panties by my finger, because, well, what else was a girl going to do in that situation? He took them from me and, without touching me, stuffed them in his pocket. I knew I wasn't getting them back. He'd have that little part of me with him the rest of the day and I'd be bare, thinking of him and what we wouldn't have time to do in a public restroom. The panties ensured that he would, too.
"Unzip your dress and let me see your nipples," he ordered next. Someone knocked on the door and he added, "Ignore them. Do as I said."
I can't believe, knowing where I was, how busy the deli was, that I didn't hesitate. I reached for my zipper. "Stop," he said, and he did not sound pleased.
My heart lurched at the hard-spoken word and I froze, staring at him an instant before I knew what he wanted. "Yes, Master," I said quickly.
He inclined his chin and I tugged down the front of my dress, then shoved my purple bra out of the way. His gaze swept downward, over my aroused nipples, and I reacted so completely, feeling him all over and burning for him to touch me and be inside me, that he might as well have physically touched me all over. I'd never wanted any man like I wanted this man in that restroom.
His gaze lifted from my breast and held mine. "Touch them," he ordered as someone jiggled the door handle behind me.
This time, I ignored the person trying to get in. "Yes, Master." I touched my nipples and teased them and his hot stare was my reward.
"Good," came his approval (another reward), but it was followed by what felt like punishment. He stepped back, putting more space between us, then leaned on the wall and crossed his arms over his broad chest. "Make yourself come."
"I can't here," I gasped, and the floor just about feel out from underneath me. "People want the restroom."
"You can and you will."
The door jiggled again. "I'll be out in a minute!" I snapped impatiently. He arched and amused brow at my outburst, seemingly unaffected by the intrusion. But then, he wasn't the on who had to make himself come while people demanded entry.
"The sooner you come," he told me. "the sooner we walk out of here."
I'd never masturbated for a man before and surely not in a public place, but as panicked as I felt in that moment, I never doubted I was going to do what he wanted. I'm not sure what that says about me or how about he affects me. Not only did I know I was going to do it, I was so damn aroused by the idea that I was burning up, hot and weak in the knees all over again. I knew we couldn't get caught. We might get yelled at for being in the restroom, but no one could prove we had done anything but talk. That comforted me. I could be naughty with him, but I wasn't going to get in trouble.
I drew a breath, issued my "Yes, Master," spread my legs wider, and slid my fingers down to my clit to stroke. I watched him watch me, encouraged by the darkening of his eyes, as I explore the silky wet heat of my arousal. His watching me made me wetter, hotter, and more needy. Pleasure overtook me, lowering my lashes, and I let it, ripples of sensation weakening my knees, and I orgasmed with amazing speed. When I finally opened my eyes again, he was standing in front of me.
"You're meant for this, Hinata, and you looked exquisite, coming like that." He slid a finger between my legs and the sucked it into his mouth. "And now I'll have you on my lips the rest of the day."
He reached for the door and I quickly pulled my clothes together, but by the time I did he was gone. I snatched my purse up as a woman walked in and gasped when she realized I'd been inside the room with a man. I hurried out into the hallway and to my table, expecting my "Master" would be waiting. But he wasn't there.
I gathered my coat and sandwich and quickly headed for the gallery, where I spent the afternoon excruciatingly aware of my pantyless state. That was what he'd planned, what he wanted.
I don't buy into me having all the control just because I have a safe word. I have no control where this man is connected. That should make me run for the hills, but I know I'm not going anywhere except where he leads me. I hope that isn't a mistake, but I can't find the will to care.
Wednesday, march 9, 2011
Lunch time at my desk...
Kiba was not only fine with the private showing, he didn't seem upset at all, which is a relief. I hope the client calls me back soon, because I've left Kiba in limbo about when we are coming by. He is tolerant now, but how long will that last?
Okay... Temari jus popped into my office and asked if I needed anything while she was out. This can't be the same woman who all but called me a whore. Have I entered an alternate universe where she got some sort of magic paper fan?
Almost time to go home...
Seven o'clock and it's time to pack up and leave the gallery. No call from my client about visiting Kiba's gallery. To top that off, there has been no erotic "Master" encounter today and I am disappointed. But then, I guess he's not my Master yet, so I shouldn't expect a daily demand from him. Should I once he's my master? I mean IF he's my Master. The contract makes me think he pretty much intends to dictate to me daily. Hmmm... this makes me think, and I don't like where my head is going. Does he have another submissive right now? Will he have more than one when he's with me? The contract does talk about sharing me with others. Oh, God. This idea upsets me. I have to text him. Or should I call him? Texting is less intimidating. I'll text. Maybe. I need to go home and think about this.
At home now...
Thinking has made me certain I need an answer. If I am one of many submissives, then this is over. I'm going to text. That way, if I find out I'm one of many, I can flip out in the privacy of my apartment.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Work came early today since I basically didn't sleep last night. So much has happened since I sent that text to my would-be-"Master." He replied immediately and told me he was sending a car to pick me up so we could talk. He didn't ask if he could send a car. He just told me he was.
I remember sitting there reading the text, and it wasn't the order that bothered me. It was the fact that he hadn't simply replied that I was the only woman he was with at the present. I'd considered texting him again and asking, but my gut said he wouldn't reply until I went to him. I replied that I'd be waiting for the car.
I didn't change clothes or pretty myself up while I waited for my ride to arrive. I left on my navy blue sheath dress from work. I wanted answers, not sex, and that was the message I set out to deliver. The possibility of being one of several women had really changed everything for me. I don't know why, but that idea had hit me far harder than the idea of being shared. I didn't like it either, but I really didn't like being just a number and a contract.
When the car dropped me at his home, I headed down the walkway. The instant I lifted my hand to knock, he appeared in the doorway. Seeing him sent a rush of heat through me and froze me in place. I always react to that first instant I see him, but for some reason it was more intense than usual. Maybe because I'd decided that I might walk away from what he'd been offering me.
I searched his expression, as usual, and I wondered how many times he'd had to calm a potential submissive. What number was I for him?
He surprised me y taking my hand, touching me easily, when his touch always feels like a reward to be earned. Guiding me to the foyer, he shut the door and then turned to me, wasting no time answering my question from the earlier text. "The contract states exclusivity for both if us, with the option of bringing others into our play as I see fit."
My stomach knotted at the confirmation that he intended to invite others into our play, and I tried to pull my hand back.
He held me easily and I found myself molded close to him, the hard length of him pressed to my body, our legs entwined. His hand had settled on my back, possessive and firm. "What did I say that upset you?"
My fingers curled on his chest. "E-exclusive and sharing. How do those two things go together?"
"Everything we enjoy, we enjoy together. And ultimately, everything I do with you is about your pleasure."
"If-if I don't think sharing is pleasurable?"
"How do you know if you don't try?"
"I-I know it bothers me."
"And I ask you to try everything once. If you don't like it, we won't repeat it."
Once? I wasn't sure I could say yes. I don't think I would have, if things had been different, but I had no idea what I'd walked into.
"If this is your worst fear," he said, "the it's better that we deal with it now, not later." he released me, the warmth of his body leaving mine, his fingers twining with mine. I let him lead me to the bedroom when perhaps I shouldn't have. It was there that I quickly learned what I had in store.
There was another man there-tall and gorgeous, dark where my "Master" was light, wearing jeans and a T-shirt that molded a perfect sculpted body. To say that my heart lurched is an understatement. I could barely breathe.
My Master stepped behind me, his hands settling possessively at my waist, his lips lowering to my ear. "Try it once. Do this for me."
"I-I don't know," I whispered, surprising myself. I hadn't said no-I'd said maybe.
"You have your safe word," he immediately replied. "Use it and we stop."
Thinking back now, the most profound moments of the night followed that promise from him. Everything had gone into slow motion. My Master's hands on my body, caressing my sides, my breast. The other man, whose name I still don't know, watching me with a heated, anxious expression on his face.
"One time," my Master whispered. "I just ask for one time, Hinata-chan."
I remember wanting to please him, or telling myself that was what I wanted, and then saying yes.
"Good girl," he murmured, and the other man had smiled and stepped forward. Before I had time to back out, the stranger was sliding his hands to my waist, his thighs melded to mine. It seemed like in a blink of time all three of us were naked. I have these random memories. Me on my knees. My master behind me, holding my breast. The stranger licking my nipples. The stranger pressing fingers inside me. Both men inside me at the same time. I'd never dreamed that was possible, or that it could be pleasurable. Those two men together...
I can't deny it was pleasurable, yet I'm still bothered by how easily my Master allowed another man to touch me. I can't be special to him, or he'd want me all to himself, right? I don't want to share him with another woman. It's all so very confusing... and though I have time to try new things while I decide if I am going to sign the contract, I don't like this state of limbo, or the way exclusivity begins only after I sign the contract. I need closure and certainty sooner than later.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Today my job took over in the most wonderful way, and I was able to quickly forget about the contract. I started out the morning with a sale. it wasn't a big one, but it was still a sale. I set up the meeting with Kiba and my client for Monday. The most exciting part, though, was Sasuke coming by the gallery and my being called into Naruto's office. I soon forgot about being nervous when I heard the reason I was there. Sasuke set up a charity event for next month with us, and he's going to unveil a new work that will later be auctioned off at Riptide for his charity. Naruto and Sasuke asked me to organize it, instead of Temari, since it's attached to Riptide.
I am beyond elated! A new work from Sasuke? People will be fighting for tickets to see him unveil a new work. This is so exciting, and I'm eager to dig into the details tomorrow.
As for my decision to be submissive, well, I've been reading up on the internet on BDSM and I've been turning in to the Dr. Kat show quite often. I'm thinking about calling her again. I need someone who understands the dynamics of the Master/Sub relationship, and I like the anonymity of calling in.
Aside from that, I'm supposed to have another lesson tomorrow night at his place. I just hope there are only two of us-not three.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Morning...
The nightmare came back. I hate that damn nightmare. I hate how real the icy water feels, pouring into my lungs. And I hate my mother's perfume, which I used to love. That sense of doom is back. I hadn't even realized it had left until it returned. At least tonight, I'll be lost in some kind of sexual fantasy sure to make me forget. Escaping into his world sounds very good right now.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Last night I went to his house for a lesson, and it was just the two of us. It was sexy and amazing. He tied me up and produced a pair of nipple clamps. I'd never been clamped and it hurt at first, but it was sweet bliss once the ache faded. He'd told me he was my escape, my place where I could let the rest of the world fade away. And it did, It was one of the few times in my life that I have ever fully let go. I didn't think; I just let myself get lost in what I felt. He'd made me feel that safe.
But then he'd sent me home with a driver, and I crashed hard and felt alone all over again. The kind of alone that feels bad.
I think I'm already falling for him. I think I could fall in love with him. But is a man who is all about Master and sub capable of falling in love? Could he ever be happy with just me? There are moments when I see something in his eyes, when I feel something in his touch, and I believe he already does. When he sent me home, I almost thought it was because he wanted to escape what he felt. But that might just be me hoping for more than a contractual arrangement.
I don't want to set myself up for the heartbreak, but maybe it's too late to avoid. Maybe I am destined to have my heart ripped to pieces by this man-because I know as I write this that I can't walk away from him. I need to sign the contract and put the uncertainty and worry aside. I thought about calling in to the Dr. Kat show, hoping she would talk me out of such a rash action, but I know she won't. I've made up my mind. I'm going to sign the contract.
And whatever will be, will be..
Journal 6, entry 1
Monday, March 14, 2011
7:00 a.m.
I, Hinata Hyuga, belong to him, my new Master. Or I will as soon as I sign the contract he's given me to set the terms for our Master/sub relationship.
I woke a few minutes ago with these thoughts, and now, sitting at the kitchen table of my little San Francisco apartment, excitement is running through me. Now that I've decided to sign the contract, idea of being "his" is down right intoxicating. Still, I'm glad I was the cautious girl that I am, and made myself sleep on the decision. Considering my recent nightmares, my good night's rest speaks loudly. I'm at peace with my decision to sign the contract.
Still, how crazy is it for me to feel this confident about giving myself to someone else? Only a few weeks ago, I would have never believed this possible. Before "him," the idea of being submissive to anyone simply wasn't comprehensible. All my life has been about learning form my single mother to control my own destiny and stand on my own two feet. Handing over the complete control to another person simply wasn't an option... until him. Now, how do I tell him I'm signing our contract? A text? A call? Meet him in person? Hmmm... off to shower and think about this...
While I was in the shower, I came up with the perfect way to tell him I'm his. First, the right attire. I've dressed in a pale pink dress the color of spring roses, one that hugs my curves (To get his attention) without being overly sexy for work. It's also perfect for an event being held at the gallery tonight. I just have to throw on a little lace jacket I recently purchased to spice it up.
Next, I took the big plunge and inked the contract. I then slipped on the beautifully designed ring with an etched rose he'd given me to wear after signing the contract, as a symbol that I am his. So it's on my finger and I keep sitting here staring at it, expecting fear or regret, but I feel none. I feel right about this.
It's crazy how my life has changed in a matter of weeks. I dared to chase my dream of working in the art world, taking a low-paying job at the gallery that required me to work a second job to pay the bills. Then, miraculously, that gamble paid off with a chance to earn big commissions through Naruto's auction house. I have a new career, and I'm discovering a new, daring part of me, a part I can't wait to explore further. And I have "him." Or I will by the end of today.
All that is left now is for me to take a picture of both he contract and the ring on my finger. Then I'll text the photos to him. Okay... done. Photos taken. I'm about to send the text messages. I'm nervous and excited. This is it. I'm really doing this.
Almost 1:00 p.m. and my lunch time...
I haven't seen or heard form "him" since I texted the pictures. Not a word.
The decision was huge for me, and I thought he'd know that and respond. I feel uncertain. I feel... confused. The gallery I normally love feels like a prison I need to escape. I'm leaving for lunch just to get out of here, though I know I won't be able to eat. I guess I'll walk to the chocolate shop and buy about ten pounds of the best they have, go to the coffee shop for caffeine, and then pig out. Chocolate isn't food; it's a drug meant to cure all. It should make me feel better, at least while I'm consuming it. There will be regret afterward, but if it's the only regret I feel today, I'm okay with that.
2:00 p.m. Back at the gallery in my office...
I saw him, my would-be, should-be-already Master, who is twisting me in knots. The chocolate/coffee plan turned into the encounter with him I'd been waiting on all morning. After I bought my chocolate, I headed straight to the coffee shop, where I found a corner booth (and hoped to dodge Ava, the chatty owner of the place who is always trying to dig up gallery gossip from me).
I'd just settled into my seat when the air shifted around me, telling me he'd stepped into the shop even before I saw him. I always know when he's around. There's this subtle energy that seems to crackle in the air, and I know I'm not the only person who feels it. I can see how the gazes around me seek him out, how attention finds him.
My nerves went haywire at the knowledge he was there. My stomach flittered and my heart raced so quickly, I actually felt faint.
I kept replaying the moment he came into view and stole my breath, as he always does. Tall and broad, he sauntered toward me with a sleek, feline grace, and I had the sense he was stalking his prey and that prey was me. His eyes found mine, or maybe mine found his, and the hardness in their depths ad actually made my chest hurt. He affects me that much, like no other man, or anyone, ever has. He was angry. I had no idea why, but he was angry. I knew then what his silence had already told me; I just didn't want tot admit it. I'd dared to open myself up to him and he was going to reject me.
I had to cut my gaze away from his in an effort to recover my lost composure. I rarely feel out of sorts in such a way. My skin tingled and almost burned as he neared, closing in on me, and I cursed my inability to control my physical response to him. I can still feel the dread that filled me, paralyzed me, when he stood my table, towering above me.
"Look at me," he demanded softly, but there was no softness to the command. I forced my gaze back to his and those hard eyes were still hard. Still angry. Some part of me had hoped that I'd read him wrong moments before.
I didn't speak. I couldn't speak. I simply had no idea what to say; I didn't even fully understand what I felt.
"You don't sign the agreement or put on the ring until I say you're ready," he said in a low, commanding reprimand.
I was stunned. This wasn't a rejection. It was a... I don't know what. "But you tried to convince me to s-sign-"
"To be open to signing," he corrected. "And then, only when I say you're ready-not a moment before."
"I am ready," I declared.
"He leaned down, hands pressed to the table in front of me, his erotic scent teasing my nostrils. He reveled me in a stare, and that cruel, amazing mouth of his was so near I could feel his hot breath on my lips. "No," he said tightly. "You are not ready and clearly you still don't understand the rules. But you will. Take off the ring until I say otherwise."
My chest had tightened to the point of misery. I remember thinking, "Do I really want to be with someone who can make me feel pain so easily?" But as much as I knew what my answer should be, I heard myself ask him, "Are you serious?"
"Do I ever say anything I don't mean?"
I stared at him for several seconds and decided that no, he did not. I took off the ring. When I tried to hand it to him he said, "Keep it, but you don't wear it until I say you can." His lips thinned. "Now. Let's go to the restroom and finish this conversation."
My mind immediately raced. Who was in the coffee shop? Who would see us go to the restroom as a pair? "What-what if someone sees us?"
He just stared at me, the look on his face as steely as any I'd ever seen. He fully intended me to do as he wished. I knew that if I didn't, this thing between us would end there and then.
With my fingers curled around the ring, the sharp corners into my tender flesh, I stood up. He straightened with me and somehow I resisted the urge to scan for who might be watching us. He stepped backward, gibing me just enough space to pass him, and I was thankful we were so close to the back of the shop and the restroom that perhaps we wouldn't be seen together. It was the façade I needed to be able to move forward.
Once I managed to walk, I quickly cut to my left down a small hall before rushing into the bathroom. My awareness of his joining me in the small space was instant; the tiny box of a room suddenly made me feel like a caged animal, wild and uncertain. My emotions were a jumble of uncontrollable knots that he was pilling tighter.
I heard the lock seal us inside, and I started to turn when he grabbed me and pressed me against the sink. My fingers curled around the white ceramic as he yanked my snug-fitted dress up my hips. Then he was at my side, his thick erection resting on my hip, his fingers sliding between my thighs, under the black silk of my thong, But what stilled my heart and then set it racing was the way the palm of his other hand began to caress my bare backside.
"Do you know why you aren't ready?" he asked, his head resting against mine, his fingers doing a delicious slide over my clit.
"I am ready," I declared-and while I tried to sound firm, my voice was a raspy whisper.
"No," he insisted. "You aren't ready because you don't understand the rules."
He slipped two fingers inside me and I panted at the intimate invasion, ripples of pleasure pulsing through me, as he added, "You don't do anything unless I say you do it. That especially applies to signing the contract."
"I thought-"
"Did you?" he challenged, flicking my clit with his thumb. "I'm not sure you did."
I opened my mouth to reply but one of his hands still caressed my backside, and the strokes became rougher, his fingers kneading into my flesh. Sudden realization overcame me. He was going to spank me. I knew it and it terrified and aroused me. I didn't know how that was possible then, any more than I do now as I write this.
"Did you read every line of the document, Hinata?"
"Y-yes." I barely whispered the reply due to the sensations ravishing my body. His hand was still stroking my backside, his fingers stroking inside me.
"Then you must understand that acting without my permission comes with punishment."
"I-I didn't think... I-"
"Exactly. You have to learn to think. You cannot be a sub, my sub, and not understand the rules and the consequences of misbehaving. I intend to give you a lesson on those things, Hinata. Do you want that lesson?"
No. Yes. What lesson? "You mean now, or...?"
"Now," he said firmly.
Looking back now, I should have said "no" or asked questions. I didn't. I felt pressured to do as he wished, and his fingers were doing delicious things to my body. Actually, I'm lying to myself. I don't think I felt pressured at all. I think I wanted to know what he would do to me. The truth is that all I was really thinking was to say "yes" so his fingers would keep doing exactly what they were doing in the exact spot they were in.
"Yes," I gasped, and his fingers sent wicked, wonderful sensations spiraling through me. "I want the lesson."
"Yes, what?" he demanded.
"Yes, Master."
Instead of rewarding me for my agreement with the orgasm I so desired, his fingers stopped teasing me, sliding away so that his hand rested on my pelvis. I wanted to cry out, to demand satisfaction, but I was stayed by the way his palm on my backside stilled and flexed into my skin.
"I'm going to spank you, Hinata," he declared, "and you need to know that I will do it again, or use other forms of punishment if we move forward beyonf today and you fail to follow our rules. Understand?"
No. No, I did not. I was scared and confused, but I was also aroused and curious. I wanted him. I want him eve now, no matter how much he's twisted me in knots. I knew I couldn't turn back.
"Yes. I understand." I'd barely issued the approval when his hand came down hard. I gasped as the sensation rocked me, and I struggled to identify what I felt. My stomach knotted with the sting of my flesh that spiraled through me, and then, to my shock, tightened my sex. The rest of the punishment was fast and hard, ten full contacts of his palm, I think, all of which were harder, stronger. I had a moment when I was confused by the pleasure rippling through me and I thought I should object, I should scream my safe word, "red," but my voice was swollen in my throat, and any protest with it.
The assault of his hand stopped suddenly and his fingers slid back between my thighs, and I was shocked that I was slick and wet and aroused. It was beyond belief, considering what he'd just done to me. But I was, and when he slipped his fingers back inside me and stroking my swollen flesh, I shattered almost instantly. It was breathtakingly good. He'd spanked me and I had one of the best orgasms ever, but I'd recovered angry and confused. Embarrassed. I still am.
"I will never leave you with anything but pleasure," he murmured. "Remember that."
"And I will never go to another public restroom with you," I ground out. "This is the last time."
His response was to gently pull my dress back into place and then turn me to face him. "You will if I say you will."
His tone was matter-of-fact, as if he didn't even acknowledge my anger. And then he stepped back and gave me space.
Both pissed me off more than ever, and I blasted him, "People I work with come here, and I have to walk out there and pretend I didn't just do what we did!" The sharp edges of the ring dug into my palm, reminding me I still held it. I stepped toward him, grabbed his hand, and shoved the ring into his palm. "A-anything near my work is off limits. That's a hard limit for me. Put it in your damn contract."
He captured my hand before I could escape. "That's what I was looking for, Hinata. Real thought. Real negotiation. An agreement you don't just live with, but embrace."
He released me and I felt shell-shocked. He's pushed me intentionally, intending to force me to see what I'd missed when making my decision to sign the agreement.
"Now," he said, "you can put the ring back on if you still think you're ready, Hinata-chan."
He didn't wait for my answer because he knew I wasn't. He headed to the door and exited.
I stood there for I don't know how long, my thoughts a jumbled mess, before I forced myself to exit regardless of who might see me. There was only Ava, who stared at me with unabashed interest.
I rushed to my table and grabbed my things before heading back to the gallery to put my thoughts on paper.
My backside still burns, and it reminds me that this decision to give myself to him does comes with consequences, just as disobeying him apparently does. Yes, those consequences arouse me, but I barely recognize this person that is me, who finds spanking hot and sexy.
But I did. I do. I'm scared to death that I'm losing touch with myself. Am I truly ready for this relationship?
The ring is sitting on my desk and I haven't put it back on. I'm not sure I'm going to. I'm not even sure I'm allowed to. I dread tonight's event, one that I would normally look forward to. It's a huge open house for Georgia O'Nay, a brilliant local artist receiving critical acclaim. It's an exciting event with an impressive list of attendees, but all I can think is that everyone who is anyone will be here, including him.
I'd actually rather go home and think and process where I'm headed in this new life, rather than attend a magical art showing.
What is happening to me? What's wrong with you Hinata?
Midnight
Finally home...
Georgia O'Nay is thirty-five, with long, sleek black hair and gorgeous pearl-like skin, and the talent of a goddess. It didn't surprise me that she drew a wall-busting crowd. The event had spectacular desserts, expensive champagne, and great art. It was pure heaven for art lovers. It should have been for me, but it wasn't.
All the local artists who show in the gallery were present. Kiba Inuzuka and Sasuke Uchiha were crowd favorites. Sasuke, unlike the rest of the guests, who were in suits (Kiba included(, was a rebel in black jeans and a leather jacket. When he stood next to Naruto, the contrast in the two men was extreme but the power and sex radiating off them both was overwhelming.
It bothered me that "he" spent a lot of time by Georgia's side. I tried not to let it. I really did. In my defense, I was feeling insecure after the entire ring situation. But what really set me off was the concrete block of realization that hit me as I admired her work. Georgia paints flowers. Roses mostly. Yes. Roses. How could I not connect his attention to her to the design of the ring? How could anyone not in a similar situation? Had she been his sub at some point? Did he help her launch her career? And if so, what happened between them? Why did they part ways? Or had they parted ways? Am I just a side dish?
During one moment when the two of them appeared rather intimate, my stomach actually churned. I wondered then, again, what was happening to me. How had I gone from being the girl who needed no one to feeling such intense need for one man? I suddenly felt that this new life was controlling me, not the other way around.
Needing air, I rushed for the back door. The instant I stepped outside into the chilly San Francisco night, I inhaled deeply, yet I still felt like I couldn't breathe. I hugged myself, the little lace vest I'd put on for the evening doing nothing to warm me.
Then the door opened behind me and I whirled around, shocked to see him standing there. And damn him, no matter how inadequate he'd made me feel inside the gallery, his presence still washed over me with a consuming, all-powerful burn. I resented it, not wanting him to have that power over me.
Before I knew his intention, he pulled me around a corner so that we were out of the line of sight of the door. He pressed me against the wall, the warm glow of a lamp fixture casting us in its light, his thighs hugging mine. His fingers framed my face. "You're upset. I don't want you to be upset."
"H-how funny," I said bitterly, "I didn't-didn't think what I felt mattered to you."
His thumb caressed my cheek. "You're confused. As your Master, Hinata, my greatest desire and responsibility is your pleasure, happiness and safety. Believe it. To upset you is to fail you. Now," he said, stroking the hair from my face, "tell me what's wrong."
For the second time today, embarrassment assailed me. I could still feel my face getting super warm. I buried my face in his chest in order for him not to see my humiliating cherry-face. He wasn't letting me escape. He lifted my face, forcing my gaze back to his cerulean orbs. "Tell me what's wrong, Hinata-chan."
My hands went to his hands and he let me touch him. So often, he doesn't. It calmed me enough to confess my feelings. "E-everything. Everything is wrong. You-you didn't contact me all morning and I was in knots wondering what you thought. T-then you made me take the ring off. Do you-do you even know what a big deal it-it was for me to have signed that contract? Do you know how much it ripped me apart when you rejected what I offered you?"
"No matter how much I want you to be mine, Hinata, to let you sign when you aren't ready would be assuring our agreement will fail. I don't want that to happen. I don't want this-this to fail."
His voice is raspy, thick with emotion, and I want to believe he feels something for me. Anything. Actually, I know he feels something for me. But what does a man like him feel? A need to possess some new toy, and I'm that toy? Perhaps even a passionate need to possess that toy? And while I'm no Cinderella looking for a Prince Charming, nor a damsel looking for a hero, while standing there with him, I had a sense that I will always want more from him than he will ever give me.
"Why didn't you just say you wanted to understand more, rather than taking me in that restroom today?" I asked, trying to understand him.
"Because while I am willing to give you more time before you sign the agreement, I admit that I am impatient to make our agreement official. Before that happens, you have to understand what's in the contract, including the rules."
"And the punishments," I added.
"Yes."
"How... intense does punishment get?"
He stared down at me, his eyes searching mine, and then he shocked me by leaning in and tenderly brushing his lips over mine. "As I said in the restroom, I will push you to your limit, Hinata, but I will always leave you thoroughly pleasured."
This gentles in him, contrasting the hardness I so often saw, softened my worries, but there was still one thing I couldn't let go. "And Georgia. did you-did you leave her thoroughly pleasured?"
He pulled back to stare at me with widened eyes, genuine shock on his face. "Georgia?"
"She paints roses. Was the ring once hers? And are you still involved with her? B-b-because if you are, I'm done. I-I won't be-"
He laughed, a sexy, sweet, surprising sound from a man so serious. "No, no. It was never her ring. I've never been intimate with Georgia, nor do I intend to be." His voice softened and his gaze heated t scorching. "Just you, Hinata-chan. This relationship will be exclusive as along as we have a written agreement. Understand?"
I nodded, but I wasn't totally relieved. We would never be exclusive when he was willing to share me.
"Even if it kills me in the process," he continued, "we'll take this slowly, as I intended. I'll teach you what each point in the contract means. Then we will negotiate the final terms. But know this. When you put that ring back on, there will be no holding back for either of us. You will belong to me."
But will he belong to me? And why was I afraid to ask?
Probably because, deep, deep, very deep down, I know the answer... and I don't want to accept it. This powerful man will never belong to me nor anyone for that matter.
he stroked my cheek again, tenderness in the touch. "We should get back before we're missed," he said, and I agreed.
An hour later, I ended up huddled in a chat with Naruto and three amazing artists. Could I really be standing with Kiba Inuzuka, Sasuke Uchiha, and Georgia O'Nay? Sasuke, Naruto, and I chatted a bit about a charity event that I'm handling for Sasuke, and we set up a meeting for the next day. Remarkably, considering my first reaction to her presence, I bonded with Georgia quickly, much as I had with Kiba, and she turned out to be as nice as she was talented and beautiful. I think I just get artists. I connect with them. Despite all that Naruto does for the art world, I'm not sure he always does.
I took a cab home at the gallery's expense. The entire staff did since Naruto won't let anyone drive after a gallery event that includes alcohol, and this one had. I'd barely walked in the door when my would-be Master texted me.
You Decide when the next lesson is. Call me when you're ready.
I don't know when I'll be ready. Part of me says now of me says I might never be. Yet I'd been downright excited to sign the contract this morning. Now I'm not sure of anything.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Hot bath. Pajamas. My own bed. What more could I want? Ah, but I know: him. I want to call him. I want to hear his voice and I want... so much. But it's the wrong choice. I know this. I've been singing this song to myself all day, reminding myself of the need to think things through and make rational choices. Right now I need to figure out who I am, because somehow I've lost myself along the way. I should be upset that he spanked me. Instead, I'm upset that he thinks I need more lessons.
I'm trying to process this. I keep replaying the situation, and my way of thinking, and demanding I look beyond the surface of what I feel. Logic. I need logic. He's trying to make sure I'm ready for the next step between us and that I won't regret my decision. Why does this upset me?
Okay. This is where I need to be honest with myself. As much as I've sworn I do not want a relationship, or the strings and heartache that go with one, this man is under my skin. I feel myself falling hard for him and looking for signs that he's falling for me, too. It's insanity. I'm a contract, a responsibility. A possession to him. He should be nothing but pleasure and the escape he has promised me he will be. And that is all he has promised.
It should be enough. It has to be enough before I allow myself back under his control, even for another encounter.
That means I need to take a few days to decide if I really can do this. I need to find myself again, the me that doesn't need anyone. The me that understands I'm the only one I have to count on in this world. The me that will allow him to pleasure me and expect nothing else in return, because expecting more from people just means heartache.
Seriously this is the longest chapter I've written so far in this story..
If there was any misspelling I apologize, my human eyes couldn't detect it ):
Ihope you guys enjoyed!
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Until next week! ;)