The Lion, Pt II

I had good reason to be excited. We met up on Saturday, having not seen each other since lockdown. I'd enjoyed getting to know you as a coworker and was looking forward to getting to know you as a friend. Somehow, over ice cream, we landed on the topic of kink.

"I've always wanted to explore that side of my sexuality, but the opportunity hasn't presented itself." You said it so casually and yet I felt the energy between us palpably change.

"Oh?" I audibly swallowed and averted my eyes from your gaze, hoping I was playing it as cool as you were. "I've been very lucky lately, in having met people within that community that were open to showing me the ropes."

"I'd appreciate being shown the ropes, if you have the time and the inclination." So there it was. An invitation. "Tell me, what is it you like?"

A rush of blood to my cheeks. I was awed by my body's betrayal. I was not mentally prepared for this and god help me if I could organize my thoughts under such an assault. I stared at the length of neck in front of me while ice cream melted down the side of the cone, coating my fingers.

"I apologize if that was too forward, maybe I was mistaken, but I was quite sure you had been thinking about what it would be like if we ended up together. I read your story, about The Lion. That's me, right?"

Jesus. What a card to play.

"Oh, uh, well, I mean, what? I'm sorry, but I am, uh.. okay look. I wasn't expecting this." I spluttered, the picture of bamboozlement. "Like you want me to tell you what I like? Right here? And now?" I glanced briefly at your eyes and felt myself buckle at what I saw. You knew exactly what you were doing.

"Well, what I want you to tell me is how badly you want me to fuck you. But we should start with what you like."

My cheeks burned as a distant squeal built in my ears.

You leaned closer and grabbed my chin, tilting it up so that I couldn't continue to avoid your gaze. I froze, a crackling building in my chest and striating through my limbs.

"I said, tell me what you like."

"I like to be denied." A small and breathless voice whispered.

"Mmhmm. And what else?"

"I like.. pain."

"I could've guessed that. Go on."

I could feel my nipples harden against my shirt. "I.. uh.. I don't.. um.. it's just that.."

You moved your hand from my chin and wrapped it lightly around my throat, your thumb grazing the curve of my jaw.

"You like to feel powerless. Do you feel powerless right now?"

"Yes." I felt my lungs empty completely.

"I thought you might." Your hand dropped to your side as you leaned back. "I'd better be going. Let's touch base later and see if we can work something out."

I watched silently, completely stunned, as you gathered your things and left. I stayed where I was, my heart pounding in my ears, at a loss to understand what had just happened, and how. I played it over in my head, trying to figure out how you had blindsided me. My ice cream had completely melted and was dripping onto my thigh.

"Oh, god damn." I scrubbed at it with a dry napkin as I walked toward the trash. I needed to go home and unruffle my feathers.

Two days later, I found myself walking up the garden path to your cabin. I didn't have time to contemplate not ringing the bell; my feet had hardly graced the porch when you opened the door.

"I'm glad to see you made it. Come in."

Barely past the threshold, you caught me by my hair and growled "I will decide when, and if, you cum."

As abruptly as it started, it stopped. You dropped your hand and moved into the kitchen and began to fill the kettle.

"Would you like a cup of tea? I cut up some apples earlier if you're hungry." You placed the kettle on the stove and turned to face me. "Oh, and take your clothes off, I've run you a bath." You busied yourself in a cupboard while I watched. What was it you were doing to me? I felt a familiar heaviness in my bones. Articulate thought abandoned me.

The cupboard clinked shut. "Jamie, take your clothes off." I started for the bathroom, and in two strides you had me by the throat. "No. Here. Take them off here. I won't tell you again."

I wasn't in my body anymore. Someone else's shaky fingers fumbled with the buttons on my shirt. It was foreign hands that undid my belt and pulled my pants down to my ankles. I stood up to catch my breath and settle myself.

"Is this naked?"

I wrestled my shoulders out of my bra when I felt white heat on the backs of my thighs. You were holding a willow branch.

"Stop and answer me. Is this naked?"

"No." It barely left my lips.

"No, you're right. It's not. Don't move." You knelt in front of me, heat from your breath registering below my navel.

"What is this?" Your thumb slowly pressed against a wet spot in my panties.

"I'm wet."

This time, the heat struck across the outside of my left ass cheek. I saw lightning.

"I didn't ask what you are, I asked what this is."

"It's juice." Another strike across my skin. It burned and I recoiled from it with a sharp inhale.

"I want to know exactly what this is." We were playing a game that I would never be allowed to win. I caught my breath and blinked away the tears collecting on my lower lids. The kettle's lazy whistle was growing stronger.

"It's pussy juice."

"Good." You stood to face me. "Finish up. The bath is getting cold. Leave your things here." And you headed, again, to the kitchen.

Stepping out of my pile of clothes, I walked toward the bathroom. My chest felt constricted. The weight in my legs was almost unbearable. I reached the doorway and looked over my shoulder to the pile of clothes I'd left behind. My panties were on top. They were soaked through.

"Stop." I did. You came around the corner with a bowl of apple slices and a steaming mug "I want you to have something to eat and something to drink. And then I'm going to bathe you."

I slid into the water and felt it prickle against the welts. You stood beside the tub, sudsing a wash cloth with a small orange bar of soap. You motioned for me to give you my hand, palm up. You started gently massaging it, scrubbing the back of my hand and forearm with the cloth in gentle oblongs.

"How was your day?"

We talked about errands and work and a trip to the farmers market. The cloth and your hands made their way up one arm and down the other, across my chest, up my neck where it lingered and I felt my pulse under your fingertips. You dipped your fingers in the bathwater and brought them to my lips.

"Open."

I parted my lips and felt you push them inside, shallow at first. I could taste the remnants of soap and salt.

"Hold still." I had to grab the sides of the tub to steady myself. You dove your fingers into the back of my mouth. The edges of your knuckles stretched the sides of my lips and I started to gag.

"Look at me." My eyes were watering. This was humiliating.

I could feel drool streaming from my chin as I continued to gag while you finger fucked my throat. You pulled your hand out and wiped it on my face, then continued on washing me. My clit throbbed between my thighs.

"Alright, come on out. Let's dry you off." I stood as you worked in the same pattern that you washed, slowly massaging and gently patting each part of me, the towel rough against my skin. This time, when you came to my throat, you stopped.

"Jamie, can I kiss you?" The question caught me off guard, considering the events that had unfolded. I couldn't help but smile.

"Yes, please."

Your lips were sweet. Your exhale ruffled the hair behind my ears. You brought your hands to the sides of my head and held me still. I was weak. I felt you pull my lower lip into your mouth, and then I felt your teeth. You held my head still as I fought it, slowly bearing down on my lip as I struggled, grunting, until I finally yelled "STOP!"

You pulled away, my lip making a wet popping sound when you released it. I pulled it into my own mouth to protect it. I could taste your spit and smell your breath.

"Hey, look at me. Did that hurt?"

I couldn't look at you, and I couldn't speak. You caught me in a moment of weakness I wasn't ready to share. I felt my eyes prickle.

"I mean it, look at me. Do you want to keep going?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure? We can stop. If you don't like something, I want you to tell me."

"Okay." I hated you for your tenderness. This isn't a space where I come to examine my feelings, this is where I go to escape them.

"Come here." I laid my face across your chest and let you wrap your arms around me. Your forearms were still wet with bathwater. You smelled incredible, fir sap and soil.

"I am going to take you upstairs, and I am going to fuck you. You will cum at my discretion, do you understand?"

My voice caught in my throat.

"Yes."