Here we go, folks. I'm changing my work schedule, so we'll see how this works. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for reading.
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A Masochist's Adventures in Wonderland
Chapter 7
I snapped awake and my head shot up. I wasn’t in my bed at home.
I glanced around before I remembered. I was in the bedroom in Ash’s apartment.
I still wore all four of the sheepskin padded leather cuffs he used on me last night. Other than that, I was completely naked.
I lay in bed alone with the covers over me. I didn’t remember falling asleep. I must have fallen asleep in his arms after our session.
He wasn’t here now. There was no sign that he stayed in this room with me last night.
I sat up….and spotted a hand-written note sitting on top of my clothes that I left folded on the chair.
I picked up the note. The shower is across the hall. Leave the cuffs here, get dressed, and come downstairs.
I smiled to myself. Daylight streamed through the windows from outside. I spent the night in his apartment. Should I read anything into that?
I unbuckled the cuffs, left them on the bed, took a shower across the hall, got dressed, and went downstairs.
I found Ash making breakfast in the kitchen. He was already wearing his business suit for the day.
He put a plate on the kitchen counter. “Sit down and eat your breakfast,” he told me. “How do you like your coffee?”
“I’m a cop. I like it black, of course.”
He shot me a smirk, poured me a cup of coffee, set it next to me, and went back to plating up his own meal. “When do you have to go to work today?”
“I’m not working today. I have the day off.”
“What are your plans?”
I picked up my fork. He’d made me a waffle, scrambled eggs, and bacon with a cut-up orange on the side.
“I usually do meal prep, clean the house, and maybe have lunch with Riley if she isn’t too busy.”
“Let me guess. You guys talk about your cases even when you’re off duty.”
Now it was my turn to smirk at him. “Guilty as charged.”
He put his plate on his side of the counter and ate standing up. “I’m glad you have someone to talk to about all this—someone other than me. It will be good for you to get someone else’s perspective.”
I winced. “I don’t talk to Riley about this—about any of it.”
His head shot up. “You don’t? Why not?”
“I don’t know. I could say she wouldn’t understand even though I know she would. I guess I just don’t want her to know. I don’t want her experience and opinion to color my experience. I already know what I’m experiencing and thinking. I don’t need her to interpret it for me.”
He studied me for a second and then looked down so he could spear some of his scrambled eggs into his mouth. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”
I glanced around. “Do we have to do anything before I leave?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean—you said that when I came in here, I would become submissive to you the minute I walked in the door. You said we would go through that time over there where I would be able to talk to you, ask questions, and raise objections.”
“Yeah? What about it?”
“So do we have to go through something like that in reverse before I leave—like some kind of process where I stop being your submissive? This is the first I’ve ever…..”
I trailed off. What should I say?
It was the first time I spent the night in his apartment. It wasn’t the first time I’d left his apartment after one of our sessions. We never went through any special procedure before.
He shrugged it away. “We probably should. It’s probably a good idea. We can do that.”
“We don’t have to. I just wasn’t sure if there was….you know….some kind of turning-off point where I stop being your submissive—I mean, where I stop being submissive to you when I leave.”
“Yeah, we could do that. Good idea. Finish eating and we can do it now.”
I ate the last of my waffle and orange, downed my coffee, and then went to the apartment’s downstairs bathroom to brush my teeth. I always brushed my teeth after meals.
I came out and stopped dead in my tracks when I saw Ash sitting in his usual place on the couch facing the door.
He sat with his ankle propped on his knee. “Stand over there.” He pointed to the usual place.
I stopped there—and my chest tightened. I stood in front of him fully dressed with my handbag over my arm.
I was about to walk away—again. Whatever this was going on between us, it was about to end—again.
I suffered another stabbing sensation in my chest. I didn’t want to leave—ever.
“What did you think of the session last night?” he asked. “How do you think it went?”
I nodded, but I felt numb. “It went well, I thought.”
“Did you think you would have multiple orgasms?”
“No, I didn’t think you would be able to.”
“How did it feel when you did?”
I considered before I chose the right word. “It was overwhelming—and kind of scary.”
“Were you scared of me at any time?”
“No, not you. Mostly I was scared that I was out of control and couldn’t stop my body from responding to you. I wanted to move around so I could control the situation and I couldn’t do either.”
“Would you want to have multiple orgasms again?” he asked.
I tried to grin at him and wound up squirming instead. “Something tells me you would make me have them even if I didn’t want them.”
“I would never do that. I would never do anything to you if you didn’t want me to. If you don’t want them, all you have to do is tell me. Is that what you want? Do you only want to have one orgasm at a time—because I can arrange that if that is what you want.”
“How would you do that?”
“That’s my business. It’s your responsibility to tell me what you want. Then it’s my job to provide it to you.”
I shifted my weight from one foot to another. I really wanted to look away, but I couldn’t—not when he held my gaze with such power.
“Is something wrong?” he asked. “Just tell me what it is you want. That’s all you have to do. I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.”
I hesitated again. I couldn’t say it—but I had to. “I want to be your submissive.”
“You can’t be.”
“Why not?”
“Because you aren’t a masochist.”
“Can’t you teach me how to be one?”
His eyebrows shot up. “You want me to train you to be a masochist?”
“I want to understand how someone could want someone to inflict pain on them. I don’t understand how anyone could actually want that.”
He shook his head. “I think that would be a terrible idea.”
“Why?”
“Because, as usual, you have no idea what you’re even talking about. You don’t want to be a masochist. You just want to understand it. You don’t actually want to be my submissive. You want something else. Just tell me what it is you really want.”
I took a long time to work up the courage to actually say it—at least, it felt like a long time. “Are you ever going to kiss me?”
He cocked his head to one side. “Why do you want me to?”
“To show that you care about me as much as I care about you.”
“You know I care about you, Lucy. I care about you very much. You know that.”
“Are you ever going to let me touch you?”
Now it was his turn to take a long time to answer. “You want to touch me?” he asked.
“Of course. I already told you that. Don’t you already know?”
“What do you want to touch me for?”
I started to feel myself getting emotional. Why did he have to force me to say it so explicitly? He already knew how I felt about him.
He sat there waiting for me to answer. God damn, he could be so infuriating!
“Why do you want to touch me?” he demanded in a harsher tone.
“Because…..” I choked on the words. “Because I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel. I want to give you some of what you’re giving me. I know I can’t, but I at least want to do something for you. I want to express……how I feel about you…..through touch…..but you never let me…..”
I broke off. My throat hurt. I couldn’t go on with this conversation.
I should just walk away right now. Standing in front of him made me ashamed that I even cared about him—that I wanted something more with him—that all this BDSM play actually made me want him this much.
I actually meant it when I said I needed him. I needed a lot more of him than just for him to play around with my body and make me cum and teach me what BDSM was.
I couldn’t get my voice working well enough to make a polite exit. Walking out of the apartment without saying anything would be too rude, but I had to get out of here before this disaster got any worse.
He startled me by standing up, walking around the coffee table, and standing in front of me.
I almost took a step back in alarm. He’d never done anything like this before.
“If you want to touch me, go ahead and do it,” he told me.
My head shot up a second time. “What?”
“Go on. You want to touch me. Do it now. Touch me the way you want to.”
“You mean…..any way I want to? I can do anything?”
He dipped his chin once. “Anything you want.”
I stared at him with a million thoughts racing through my head. Did he really just say that?
All the fantasies I had been having about him collided in my brain. I could do anything to him…..but only to him.
I realized a split second later what he didn’t say. He didn’t say we would have a mad passionate roll in the hay like a real couple.
He said I could touch him—the way he touched me. This would be completely one-sided.
I blinked at him before it all came together in my mind. He might never give me a chance like this again. I had to make this count.
I also realized something else without him explaining it to me. I was still in his apartment—which meant I was still submissive to him.
He was letting me do this to him. He didn’t have to.
Touching him wouldn’t be a deeply moving emotional experience—not the way it would have been if we had real sex—so-called “vanilla” sex. This wouldn’t be like that at all.
The last doubt evaporated from my mind and I took a step toward him, clasped both hands on either side of his face, and kissed him.
I poured out all the emotion I’d been fighting these last few weeks into that kiss. I kissed him deeper and let my lips play on his.
He responded and kissed me back—but he didn’t touch me back. He didn’t put his arms around me.
That somehow made it so much more important that I kiss him the way I needed to—with all the painful longing I’d been keeping buried all this time.
I tilted my head to one side and let my mouth open. I kept both hands around his cheeks—and his tongue met mine.
He kissed me back building up heat stronger and stronger, but he still kept his arms down at his sides the whole time.
He didn’t back off in the slightest. All the emotion I unloaded on him came back to me a thousandfold. He kissed me hard and deep, but he still didn’t raise his hands to do anything else.
The rest of him remained locked in this rigid stiffness that never softened. His breath strained in his nostrils as the heat in our mouths built to an explosive pitch.
Kissing him like this electrified me beyond belief. I had to show him everything. I had to show him right now how I felt about him.
My fingers threaded into his hair and down his neck. My body vibrated with a kind of passion I’d never felt for anyone.
I slipped my arm around his neck, pressed my body against him, and rose on my tiptoes to kiss him to the ends of the Earth.
I dropped my handbag on the floor and let all my desire flow out of my body into him.
He rasped through his nose kissing me back just as strongly. His lips caught hold of mine and his tongue slithered around mine every time I slipped into his mouth.
I crushed my breasts against his body through our clothes. Damn, I wanted him so bad!
He stayed standing there in granite stillness. He never moved. He never raised a hand even to touch my face, but that was okay. This moment was all mine—and so was he.
I could have kept kissing him for the rest of forever, but too many ideas infected my brain. He said I could do whatever I wanted.
I eased off and stared up at him boiling in passion. I didn’t even try to hide it. I wanted him more now than ever.
I bit my lip where his saliva tingled on my mouth. He tasted magnificent. What would the rest of him be like?
He glared down at me with the same fire flickering in those dark eyes. He wanted it. He wanted it real bad. He just didn’t let himself raise a hand to take it.
He could have. He could have attacked me right now, thrown me down on the couch, and overpowered me exactly the way he said.
He wouldn’t, though. This moment wasn’t about that.
I let my fingers trail out of his hair, down his cheek, to the collar of his shirt. What would he look like under his clothes?
He never took his clothes off around me—ever. He never once took his suit off.
I glanced up at his eyes just to make sure. He never flinched. He didn’t say a word to change his mind. He wouldn’t. He told me what to do. Now it was up to me.
I held his gaze and trembled with aching hunger when I slid his jacket over his shoulders. He felt muscular and powerful under his shirt.
Touching him like this made me tremble. I asked for this. Could I really handle letting that monster out of its cage?
He moved his arms just enough to take them out of his jacket sleeves. I took hold of his cuffs to pull them down and draped the jacket over the coffee table next to me.
I looked up into his eyes and held eye contact when I pulled his tie loose. He stared down into the depths of my soul when I slid it out of his collar and started unbuttoning his shirt.
I had to look down at my hands to see what I was doing, but I kept glancing up at him to make sure he was okay with this.
The volcanic, furious energy in those eyes only became more menacing and dangerous with every button I undid. He built to some kind of explosion barely kept under control by the power of his own will.
I glanced down at my hands undoing the buttons in front of his stomach. He was just as chiseled under his shirt as he looked on the outside.
My hands shook when I pushed the shirt off his shoulders. I couldn’t look him in the eye when I held the cuffs down so he could slide his arms out of his shirt.
I laid the shirt on top of his jacket, but I didn’t dare to look into his eyes—not now when I came face to face with his naked skin.
I laid my trembling hand on his chest….and ran it back and forth from one shoulder to the other. His nostrils flared and his breath rasped in his nose, but he didn’t let himself move.
The weight of his intense stare wouldn’t let me look up. I concentrated on his body.
A kind of awe came over me when I touched him. I actually felt like I was standing in front of some kind of god or maybe a statue of male perfection.
He wasn’t perfect. He was too old to be perfect—but the person he was made him perfect. It made him the most perfect man in the world—right here in front of me.
He actually flinched when my hand trailed down to his stomach. His breath caught the way I flinched when he touched my stomach when he blindfolded me.
He kept his eyes open the whole time and so did I. I stroked him all over his chest and stomach, but this overpowering need for him pushed me onward.
I leaned and kissed his neck. The minute my face made contact with his skin, the walls came down and I couldn’t hold back.
I dove in much harder and took a big, hot juicy mouthful of his neck right under his ear.
He choked trying to breathe. I loved that sound. I wanted to make him love it. I wanted to make him want it so bad that he couldn’t stand it.
I mauled his neck, bit his ear, and crawled down his neck to climb up the other side. I burrowed into his hair breathing on his skin and dropped down to kiss across his chest.
He didn’t grab my head or follow my movements. He just stood there and took it, but his breathing told the truth.
He panted harder when I got to his nipples, sucked them in greedy madness, and then nuzzled down his stomach. Touching him, kissing him, and turning him on like this made me intoxicatingly hungry for him.
He said I could do whatever I wanted, and by God, I would do it. I wouldn’t walk out of here until I did it. To hell with the consequences.
I nibbled across his stomach and found the sensitive place under his ribs. I reveled in the sound of him gasping and flinching when I dragged my tongue down that skin and then raked my teeth over it.
I sank lower onto my knees and, in my last act of triumph, I looked up into his eyes when I took hold of his belt to pull it loose.
He glared down at me breathing heavily through his nose. He looked even more like some mythical hero standing here with his shirt off.
His cock pulsed and twitched inside his pants. He wanted this. He wanted every last living inch of it.
I pulled his belt loose….and slid his zipper down……
He was wearing a pair of spandex boxers under his suit pants. I slid his pants down and took his boxers with them.
His cock fell out into my face. I planned to take his pants and shoes off so he would be completely naked—the way he made me be naked last night.
I couldn’t resist that cock in my face, though. I caught him in my mouth and sucked for all I was worth.
He stiffened and clenched his hands into fists, but he still didn’t touch me. He didn’t grab my hair or shove his prick into my mouth. I really wished he would.
He went rigid when I picked up speed and cupped his balls in a gentle grip. His nuts spasmed in my hand.
I sank down on him deeper….and coiled my tongue around him tasting every inch of his flesh.
I worked him deeper into my throat and let my tongue trail out toward his balls.
The next time I pulled out toward the tip, I dove under his cock and circled my tongue around his balls.
He actually stopped breathing—but just for a second.
I looked up at him. He still stared down at me from high above.
This view of him stabbed me in the heart more than anything. He was such an amazing guy. I wished I could somehow communicate to him how much he meant to me—but maybe this was the best way.
I eased off and looked down at the floor to untie his shoes. He bent over and rested his hand on my shoulder to keep his balance while I took them off and then slid off his pants and boxers.
He straightened up immediately and went right back to the same stiff position. He didn’t touch me or direct me at all.
I could have gone back to sucking him, but that would never be enough, either. I didn’t want this moment to end like that—not without going all the way.
I stood up in front of him. He stayed where he was with his rigid cock sticking straight out at me. Now it was my turn.
I took a step back, pulled off my blazer, and started unbuttoning my shirt in front of him.
His hard eyes traced down my body when I pulled it off. He watched me unclip my bra and then push my pants down.
I put all my clothes on the coffee table next to his.
This procedure didn’t cool the fire between us at all. We both knew what was coming and we both wanted it.
Letting him watch me undress excited me as much as undressing him. I already knew I was good enough for him. He wanted me.
He wanted me that first night at the club. He said so.
He had been wanting me every time we met since. Only his own iron self-control held him back.
I took a step nearer and kissed him with everything I had. I let my own hunger off its chain and rubbed my body all over him while we kissed for the ages.
I kept my eyes open and so did he. I shuddered in aching desire when I dragged my breasts across his chest and rubbed my swollen pussy down his thigh.
Him standing there not touching me somehow turned me on beyond belief. I could let it all go. I didn’t have to guard myself or protect myself or make out that I was purer or better behaved than I really was.
I wanted him in naked, animal passion and I took it.
I could have worked myself up to an orgasm just from rubbing my pussy against his leg.
This would have felt so much better than doing it with our clothes on, but no way in hell would I let myself cum like that when I had his bare, hard cock right here in front of me.
I wrapped one arm around his neck still kissing him in raving madness. I raised one leg, hooked it behind his ass, and worked his cock into my dripping slit.
He let out one deep exhalation of pleasure and then we both swam in each other’s eyes while I sank down on him.
His body went as hard as iron when I stroked up and down on him. I hung onto him to keep my balance.
Looking into his eyes like this fogged my mind with one delirious wave of lust after another. I felt myself winding up to another life-changing orgasm.
This one would be one for the record books—now that I could feel his whole body against me and look into his eyes.
Having him grab me and take me would have been even better—or would it? I couldn’t think clearly enough to decide.
I was still submissive to him even now. Touching him like this didn’t diminish his dominance at all.
He would never let me do anything to him without his dominant control over the situation. I never had to question that.
I picked up speed. Doing everything myself like this made me take longer to climax, but in a way, the erotic charge of holding myself in this position also sparked me into a paroxysm beyond anything I’d ever known.
I kept kissing him through it all. I couldn’t lose that contact, especially not when my body took over.
I slammed myself down on him harder and faster. I couldn’t stop it and then I detonated in a bone-crushing climax that almost knocked me over.
I had to hold onto him quaking and screaming as the wave hit. I couldn’t kiss him anymore. I smashed my mouth against his howling all this torment into him.
My body went into convulsions. I couldn’t even ride him anymore. I just had to hang onto him and take it in all its mind-blowing power.
He never broke eye contact, not even when I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore.
I wilted on him, but I didn’t want to let go of him. I wanted to cling to him forever just to find some protection from all these raging emotions and sensations.
His cock pulsed inside me, but he didn’t cum. He stayed as hard as ever. He didn’t release when I did.
I felt my body starting to sag. I wanted to pass out, but one thought kept me standing up. I wasn’t finished. I said I wanted to give him as much pleasure as he gave me. I hadn’t accomplished that yet.
I looked up at him in drunken ecstasy. His eyes mesmerized me. Did he see now? Did he understand by now?
I almost fell flat on my ass when I let go of him. I put my other leg down…..and turned around.
He wouldn’t do it, so I had to. I bent over and backed up to him. I even had to guide him into me.
He groaned in agony when I slid all the way back and took him all the way in. I would have fucked him like this, but in that moment, he finally raised his hands and took hold of my hips.
My eyes rolled back in their sockets when he pulled me back down on him. Holy fuck, he felt good!
He started slowly and snarled through gritted teeth every time he stroked in. That sound melted together with the blissful feeling of his thick meat filling me full of everything I always wanted from him.
He built up power and speed with every thrust. Oh, yes. I needed him to cum. I needed to know he felt it.
I arched my back into his thrusts….and he slid his hand up my back to my neck.
His fingers closed on the back of my neck from behind—so gently—but he held me there in that position while his rhythm escalated.
I arched higher to take him into the most sensitive spots of my already quivering channel.
He was the one who taught me how to have multiple orgasms. I felt myself winding up for another massive one.
This angle felt different. It felt better, deeper, and more brutal.
He slammed in harder with every thrust. His fingers tightened on my neck and on my hip. Hell yes.
Those hands took hold of me and he slammed in impossibly hard. This was it. He was doing it. He was taking me somewhere no one had ever taken me before.
He knew what I needed in ways no other man did. He knocked me nearly off my feet with the force of each penetration.
I needed it hard. I needed it as hard as he could give it to me—and he gave it to me.
I heard myself starting to scream and then I couldn’t stop screaming. My own screams took over and I wheeled off into the stratosphere of another epic climax.
He roared at me to match my screams and his cum flooded me. The heat spiked me off the charts and I floundered just to stay conscious.
That moment spiraled me into outer space for a long minute, but I started to float back down immediately. I didn’t go into another zoned-out trance. I didn’t feel like I was about to pass out.
His hands relaxed. He kept growling and groaning as his strokes eased. His cum gushed out of me and dripped down my thighs.
I stood up first. I didn’t wait for him to let go or pull out on his own.
I turned around…and our eyes met.
I couldn’t define all the emotions in his eyes. I didn’t try to. I was still too lost in space to even think about that.
I only knew I wanted him. I wanted to feel this way about him and for it to be okay. I didn’t want to hide it anymore—and I didn’t have to.
I put my arms around him and kissed him—and this time, he put his arms around me and kissed me back.
One hand slid up my spine to cradle the back of my head. My hair spilled over his face when he tilted my head to the side….and then he pulled away and buried his head in my shoulder.
He crushed me against him holding me tighter than tight. He hid his eyes against my shoulder and just held me there.
This moment—this hug—it meant something so much different than all the other times he held me.
I stroked the back of his hair and neck…and then I kissed the side of his head. It was all right because we both wanted this.
He clung onto me because he needed me as much as I needed him—and it was all right. He didn’t have to hold himself off from me.
If he went back to that in our next meeting, that would be all right, too, because we had this.
He took a long time before he straightened up. When he did, he started kissing me again. We kissed each other gazing into each other’s eyes.
I saw so much in those eyes—so much that could never be expressed in words.
I petted his cheeks and ran my fingers through his hair. I got so lost in his eyes and mouth that I forgot for a long time that we were both still naked.
I didn’t remember until he loosened his arms from on my body.
His voice cracked when he finally spoke in a husky undertone. “Are you going to be okay today?”
“Yeah,” I whispered. “Are you?”
He nodded and gave me one more light peck on the lips. “Yeah. I’m good.”
I found myself grinning and blushing at him. “Do I need to text you to check on you in the next few days to make sure you’re okay?”
He burst out laughing and his cheeks colored. “I think you better. I might drop hard from this. That was the most brutal session ever.”
I laughed, too, and we kissed for another minute before we both broke apart.
Neither of us spoke while we put our clothes back on, but we kept stealing looks at each other and smiling. I definitely caught him flushing when he smiled at me.
We both got dressed and I hung my handbag over my arm before I kissed him again. “Thank you. I loved that.”
“Thank you,” he murmured. “You are so beautiful. You gave me such a gift today.”
I kissed him again, but I had to stop sometime before I got stuck in kissing him for the rest of the day.
I pulled away. “Bye,” I whispered.
“Bye,” he murmured. “Have a good day. I’ll see you next week.”
I pointed at him when I backed toward the door. “I’ll text you.”
He laughed. “I can’t wait.”
I left and went down to the sidewalk. I couldn’t stop grinning to myself when I got into the car. Then I had a crazy idea, pulled out my phone, and sent him a text.
Are you okay?
I feel like I just got injected with some kind of super drug that turns me into Superman.
I laughed. I’m sure you could find some crashing airplanes to save.
Don’t you have carpets to vacuum and meals to prep? he asked.
I laughed again. Oh, yeah. I forgot.
I’m okay. You don’t have to keep checking on me.
But I want to.
He sent back a kiss emoji. So that was the end of the conversation.
I smiled to myself and put my phone in my pocket. I would text him tomorrow. This was my session, so the aftercare was my responsibility, too.
Texting him to check on him would almost be as fun as doing it with him—almost.
End of Chapter 7
