A Masochist's Adventures in Wonderland
Chapter 8
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I stopped at the bottom of the stairs leading up to Ash’s apartment. I had to take a few deep breaths to steady my nerves before I went up there. What would I find there?
Our last meeting threw all the rules under the bus. I had no idea what to expect.
I had to find out, though, even if it meant he didn’t want to see me again.
I climbed up the stairs and stopped again at the top door. It was closed.
Actually, our last meeting didn’t change anything. It didn’t throw any of the rules under the bus.
I knew that at the time. I was still submissive to him even when I touched him and sucked him and did it with him. Doing it with him didn’t change any of that.
It didn’t change the basic protocols and procedures we had already set up, either—or that he set up.
As soon as I opened this door and walked into the apartment, I would become his submissive again.
I had to brace myself before I did it. Being submissive to him turned out to be something completely different from what I expected.
I pushed the door open. I couldn’t even be surprised when I saw him sitting on the couch in his old place.
He rested his ankle on his knee and laid his arm over the back of the couch. Of course. Where else would he be—lying naked in bed? Not likely.
I shut the door behind me, stopped in my usual place, and put my handbag on the chair nearest me before I faced him.
He leveled me with his usual penetrating stare. Why did I even entertain the possibility that he would become less dominant after last time? That was never going to happen no matter what happened between us.
He dipped his chin once like he needed to answer a question I asked him.
“So….same rules as last time,” he began. “Touching and penetration, but only with fingers and objects—no body contact. Go upstairs, take off all your clothes, fold them on the chair, and lie down on the bed where you were last time.”
I stared back at him for a minute taking all of that in. Was he really going to act like last week never happened?
He inclined his head to one side. “Is there a problem?”
“No,” I murmured. “No problem.”
“Then go do it. Go upstairs.”
I turned away and went upstairs on autopilot. I shouldn’t be surprised by any of this—and I wasn’t. I didn’t really think anything would change—except that it changed for me.
I folded my clothes on the chair, placed my shoes under the chair, stretched out on the bed in the same place, and fixed my gaze on a spot on the ceiling.
I didn’t move or even get nervous when Ash came upstairs, entered the room, and started buckling the cuffs around my wrists.
He cinched the ropes tight to pull my arms and legs out toward the corners of the bed. He rendered me as helpless as last time, but this position didn’t make me nervous anymore.
I dropped into a sea of dead calm. Nothing bad could happen to me as long as I was here.
Whatever he did, I would enjoy it. He would never hurt me or do anything I didn’t want him to do. I knew that in the marrow of my bones.
He finished tightening the ropes and paced around me examining my body from all angles.
I didn’t look at him or watch him. I fixed my gaze on that spot on the ceiling. Whatever was about to happen would come either way.
That spot calmed me. It anchored me in the certainty that I was perfectly safe even here.
He surprised me by walking around the bed and sitting next to me on the mattress. My head snapped sideways to stare at him.
His features twisted when he gazed down at me. He looked as pained and distressed as he did after our session at the club.
He bent down, cupped my cheek in one hand, and kissed me. He kissed with all the passion of last week.
My desire for him exploded off the charts when I felt his passion building up in heat and power—but he broke away immediately. He sat up straight and went back to looking down at me.
He passed his thumb across my lips and then trailed his hand down to my neck.
I froze when he wrapped his fingers around my throat, but he only brushed it before he slid down to my shoulders, chest, and arms.
He stroked me all over and then migrated to my breasts. I clamped my eyes shut when he squeezed them. His touch made me want him so bad. Last week only made it worse.
He had been taking it easy on me by not doing it with me. I didn’t realize that until now.
I couldn’t tell where this aching need for him would end if he really did it with me—like really took me and expressed the depth of that passion.
He made me yelp and moan when he played with my nipples and then bent over to suck them.
He paid a lot more attention to them this time and took longer to tease them to hard little nubs.
He flicked his tongue over them in their hardest, most excited state and made gasp and whine while I tried in every way to get near him.
He climbed on top of me the way he did last time and mouthed both my nipples to ragged agony.
He shifted from my left nipple to my right—and his hand dropped down to my crotch.
I writhed in torment when he laid his flat fingers on my clit and started tracing slow, gentle circles over the most sensitive areas. He kept sucking my nipples until I couldn’t stand it.
I reared off the bed a dozen times trying to increase the pressure—both from his mouth on my breasts and his fingers on my slit.
He wouldn’t escalate no matter what I did. He wouldn’t speed up or press any harder.
He reduced me to a sobbing wreck of pathetic need before he gave my nipples one last delicious suck and crawled down to my stomach.
My eyes rolled back in their sockets and I turned my head away holding back sobs when he dropped one excruciating kiss after another across my stomach.
He mouthed up the sensitive skin under my ribs. I howled in agony when those kisses sent their electric charge through me. He kissed exactly the same spots on my stomach that I teased on him last week. The cruel bastard.
He kept circling at the same rhythm……and then glided his fingertips down to my swollen pussy lips.
He didn’t enter, though. He just trailed his fingertips through them….just enough to tell him how dripping wet he made me.
I actually screamed when he touched me—more from blistering desire than from anything he did. He didn’t do anything. He barely touched me at all.
He kept going down….down…..down…..leaving molten kisses around my navel and down to my mound……
He kissed on top of my pubic bone and then delivered the most meaningless kiss possible to my clitoris.
I howled in tortured, ravenous madness when he pulled away. How could he do this to me?
He finally, finally moved his body down between my legs and settled in to lick me…..but of course he didn’t just devour me the way I wanted him to.
His tongue left a feather-light trail through my engorged pussy lips, gave my clitoris the most passing graze, and breathed on me until I convulsed on the bed in brutal misery.
I kept trying to throw my hips at him, but he adjusted his position again and again so I couldn’t touch him.
He dallied his tongue a little deeper between my saturated petals and inched higher toward my clitoris. How could he torment me like this?
He sank deeper into the bed and started circling my clitoris again—with his tongue this time.
He made me scream again and again, but he still didn’t escalate. He built up slowly until my desire flew completely out of control.
I yanked against the ropes, but I couldn’t free myself. He licked a little faster….a little harder……and then I really did almost break down in tears when he eased off and stood up.
I turned my head away so he wouldn’t see me moaning and whimpering in desolate hunger.
Of course he saw. He kept pacing around the bed staring down at me. He knew exactly what he was doing to me.
I had to pay attention when he dropped his knees on the bed and propped himself on all fours on top of me.
His face hung directly over me and his voice shot straight to the center of my being. “Look at me,” he commanded.
I turned around and looked, but I couldn’t help grimacing in agony when I looked into his eyes.
Now he would see. Now he would know how much I needed and wanted him—like he didn’t already know.
He kissed me just long enough to get a rise out of me. As soon as he felt me respond, he pulled back to stare down into my eyes from directly above.
He lowered his hand between my legs, circled my clitoris a few more times, and then eased two of his fingers inside me.
I groaned that now, at last, I would be able to climax and relieve all this tension tearing me apart.
His eyes commanded me to look at him no matter what. I didn’t even try to hide how desperate and raw he made me.
He pumped his fingers into me again and again—and then pivoted his legs around to anchor his hips against his hand the way he did last time.
“Is this what you want?” he murmured. “Do you want to cum like this?”
“YES!!” I shrieked and moaned in craven desire. “I need to!”
“Beg me for it,” he snapped.
My eyes shot open. I actually froze in stunned shock. “What?!”
“Beg me for it. You want to cum? Beg for it. Beg me to make you cum.”
I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.
He got up immediately, pulled his fingers out of me like none of this meant anything to him, and climbed off the bed.
He went back to pacing around the room doing God knows what.
“I asked you last week if you wanted multiple orgasms or only one at a time,” he told me over his shoulder. “You still haven’t answered that question…..so you won’t get either until you do answer it. Do you want to cum or not?”
“YES!!” I bellowed. “You can’t do this to me!!”
He shrugged without hardly looking at me. “You have your safe word. You can leave whenever you want to.”
I opened my mouth a second time. Beg?
I couldn’t beg him to make me cum. That would be ridiculous.
The thought of begging anyone for anything contradicted everything I knew about myself—everything I knew about the nature of reality.
It was inhuman to make someone beg for something, especially something he should have given freely. We were having sex here, weren’t we—sort of?
I shouldn’t have to beg for that—for the privilege of enjoying myself.
He rummaged around under the bed and took out a different vibrator. This wasn’t the wand. It was much smaller.
He walked back and forth over there doing something or other. I was so out of my mind with all these confused emotions and desires that I didn’t see what he was doing.
“One thing you have to learn about BDSM,” he muttered under his breath. “You don’t get what you don’t ask for. You didn’t ask me to give you multiple orgasms. You didn’t ask me to give you one orgasm. So I won’t give you either until you ask—and ask nicely.”
He sat down next to me on the side of the mattress. I panicked when he switched on the vibrator and moved it toward my crotch.
“WAIT!!” I roared. “Don’t!! Please…..stop!!”
He shot me a hard glare. “‘Stop’ is not a safe word—and ‘Please stop’ is not a safe word. Your safe word is ‘red’. Say ‘red’ if you want to end our session. Until then…..”
He lowered the vibrator between my legs. I reared back to get away from it. The minute it touched my skin, I wouldn’t be able to control what happened next.
I tried in every possible way to wrench out of the line of fire, but he didn’t even have to try to adjust his position.
He lowered the vibrator onto my already trembling flesh. The vibrations lit me on fire and I collapsed back on the bed moaning and spasming as the buzz spiked me out of this world.
“Come on,” he murmured. “Cum for me. All you have to do is look me in the eye and beg me to make you cum.”
He raised his other hand and flattened his palm against my cheek. That one simple gesture forced me to turn around and look at him.
The look in his eyes almost made me cum right there. Looking into his eyes turned me on more than anything—and just as fast he took the vibrator away and switched it off.
I buckled whining and moaning in a frenzy. I hurled my body back and forth trying to touch anything and everything that might excite me enough to cum.
He kept his hand there so I had no choice but to keep looking at him. He kissed me once more—just a short, formal little kiss.
Then he straightened up and went back to looking into my eyes. No one could look into a person’s eyes like he could.
“Come on,” he murmured. “You know you want this. Don’t you? Don’t you want to cum right now?”
“YES!!” I wailed.
“Then say it. Say you want to cum.”
“I WANT TO CUM!!” I roared. “YOU KNOW I DO!!”
“Then ask for it. That’s all you have to do.”
I opened my mouth…..and faltered. “I can’t!”
He shrugged and started to stand up. He actually turned away. “Then we’ll just keep going until you do. I can keep doing this all night.”
“NO!!” I screamed and tried again in vain to get off the bed. “NO…..DON’T!!”
He turned around and raised his eyebrow at me. “Then ask for what you want. You know how to ask for things. What do you say?”
I wilted on the bed whimpering and bawling, but I still couldn’t cry. This somehow hurt so much worse than tears could ever express.
He studied me with cold, calculated, scientific ruthlessness—and his tone changed to his harsh, commanding snap. “What do you say, Lucy?”
I couldn’t look at him. I turned my head away again. “Please……” I moaned.
“Look at me when you talk to me,” he snapped. “I’m not some bellboy at a hotel. Look me in the eye and beg me to give you what you want. You won’t get it any other way.”
I swallowed hard. God only knew how I could possibly face him. I couldn’t have faced him like this for anything.
Begging him to give me an orgasm—no way in hell.
I couldn’t lie here like this without it, though. The thought of him licking me….or fingering me….or using the vibrator on me….or touching me in any other way…..I just couldn’t face it. I needed him too much.
I clamped my eyes shut while I turned my head. I pointed my face in his direction….and opened my eyes.
Looking at him disintegrated the last walls. I crumbled into a mess of emotions and really did start crying. “Please…..” I sobbed. “Please…….please let me cum……I need to cum so bad……please…..I’ll do anything……”
He dove onto the bed immediately and started kissing me as never before. His mouth consumed my whole mind. Even my tears got into both of our mouths, but neither of us stopped.
He pivoted sideways, switched on the vibrator, locked it against my clitoris under his thigh, and shoved both fingers all the way into me.
I screamed again when he started pumping his hips into me so much harder than he did last week. He didn’t stop kissing me even for a second.
His hips drilled his fingers into me in deep, crushing thrusts, but the vibrator really did the trick.
The volcanic pocket of energy he’d been building up inside me all this time detonated in a catastrophic climax that made me break down screaming into his mouth.
He still didn’t let up. He only kissed me harder. Little grunts of primal hunger kept escaping from his nose every time he pumped into me.
He clenched his other arm around me and plastered his weight down on top of me to pin me to the bed.
I clamped my eyes shut to stop myself from flying into a million pieces.
As soon as that climax started to ebb, I dissolved in a puddle of ragged emotion. I couldn’t even explain why this made me so emotional….except that I needed him. I begged him and he did it.
He kissed me one more time and moved his head off to one side. He pulled his fingers out, switched off the vibrator, left it lying on the bed, and wrapped both arms around me.
He held me while I cried. He didn’t let go even to untie the ropes from my arms and legs.
When he did, he rolled onto his side and pulled me against him again the way he did last week—but this was nothing like last week.
This broke something in me. I couldn’t keep doing this—not without something more from him. I needed…..him.
This wasn’t about training anymore. It wasn’t about me learning about BDSM. It was him. It always had been him.
I pulled away from him first this time, sat up on the edge of the bed, and buried my face in my hands.
Now I knew why I was crying. I was crying because I needed him. I needed him for something I wouldn’t be able to get—not like this.
He didn’t get up. He stayed lying down there behind me. I didn’t turn around to look at him.
“I would like to leave now….if you’ll let me……” I husked under my breath. “I won’t use my safe word because……”
I didn’t say it out loud, but I thought it. I didn’t want to stop being submissive to him.
That was the real problem. I didn’t want to keep going back and forth between being submissive to him and NOT being submissive to him.
I didn’t want to break the rules he set for me. I didn’t want to do something against his wishes.
That was the problem. I needed more—or nothing.
He sat up on the bed next to me, but he didn’t touch me. “You can leave if you want to,” he murmured. “Do you want to come back next week?”
I nodded down at my hands. I had to tell him, but I couldn’t do it now.
My heart broke for something I never had—and might never have—but I had to tell him the truth.
I just needed to decide how to tell him.
That was the moment when I made up my mind. If I couldn’t see him again, then that was just the way it had to be. If I couldn’t have more with him—if I couldn’t have his heart for real—then I didn’t want anything.
“You can go anytime you want to,” he murmured and he bent over, picked up my wrist, and started unbuckling the cuffs.
I sat in silence and stared at the floor while he unbuckled both cuffs from my wrists. I made sure not to look at him when he went down on one knee to unbuckle the cuffs from my ankles.
He sat down on the edge of the bed to re-buckle them and hook them together. I didn’t look at him when I stood up and started getting dressed.
I waited until I put my shoes and jacket back on before I faced him, raised my head, and locked my bloodshot eyes on him. “I’ll see you next week,” I mumbled.
“Okay,” he murmured. “I’ll text you later to make sure you’re okay.”
I only nodded. I would be okay.
I walked out of the apartment totally solid in stone-cold certainty. I knew exactly what I needed. If I couldn’t get it, then I was better off alone.
End of Chapter 8.
