The Obedient One

I stand in the driveway waiting for you to open the garage. The sunshine is warm against my skin, I hear birds chirping sweet Sunday melodies, and as a warm breeze passes by, it reminds me that Spring has arrived.

It felt good to stand in the light, even if it was just for a minute.

I hear the humming of the garage open.

I walk into the garage through the doorway where you stood, greeting you as I passed through, not making eye contact. I set my purse down on the counter. You sit down on the chair, and direct me to sit down on the couch. I sit down.

I feel a sense of stillness.

We discuss briefly about life, making small talk. Then came the topic of the dreaded budget, and you ask what I’ve spent my money on this past month. I nervously laugh, and began to get anxious.

“I don’t want to review the transactions today.” I say, as I look away from him.

He replies “Why not? What did you spend your money on? Cloths? Food?”

“I don’t know.. I’m just not good with money, and I want today to be a good day, and I just don’t want to do this today…”

He sighs, “Okay, fine. We won’t do it today, but we will be doing it.”

“I thought we just had to make a budget for May, why do we have to go through what I spent in April?”

“Well, that is how we are going to figure out how much to allocate to your budget, plus I am curious now what you spent because you are so nervous about showing me.” You sigh heavily, “But, we don’t have to talk about this today. Let’s go upstairs.”

I follow behind you as you lead the way up the stairs, and into your room,

 

You direct me to close the door behind me.

“Stand back so that I can look at what you have on”

Vintage style navy blue dress, with red & white anchors.

“It’s my anchor dress, I have a thing for anchors.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhmm” I lift up my hair to reveal the back of my neck. “Didn’t you ever notice this tattoo on the back of my neck? It is an anchor”

“No, I never noticed it. Why do you like anchors?”

“It is a symbol of hope, don’t ya know?”

“No, I never knew that.”

He pulls me in close to him, “Take this off”, as he gently tugs at my cardigan.

I remove my cardigan.

He traces his hand around my collar, grazing his hand over the straps of lingerie that were now peeking out from underneath my dress that were previously hidden by my cardigan.

“What do we have under here?”

I smile, “Oh I don’t know” I say innocently.

“Take your dress off, let me see” as he sits down on the edge of the bed.

I take a step back, and remove my dress, revealing a black netted teddy with cut outs in all the right places.

“Damn your tits look good. Come here.”

I stand in front of him as he reaches up to squeeze my breasts, and his hands fall back down to his side. He looks me over.

“Your Dad still plans on making you lose weight, yes?”

I look down at the floor, “Yes”.

“What do you weigh now?”

I mumble a number under my breathe.

“Are you sure?” he asks, questioning my honesty.

“Yes, or at least that was what I was a couple days ago when I weighed myself…”

“Let’s check. There is a scale in the bathroom.”

I step on the sale, it felt like the longest 10 seconds of my life.

The number flashes across the screen and reads the exact weight that I had told him, to the decimal point.

I sigh a sign of relief; thank god it was the same number that I had him told him.

“Very good” he says. “How much weight does your father want you to lose?” he asks eagerly.

“I don’t know” I replied distantly, as we walk back into his room.

I look over at the bed, and flashback to a few weekends ago where I stood over his bed, folding his laundry, sharing with him some of the darkest pieces of my past with him, including a gruesome, five year long battle with an eating disorder.

“Get down on your knees”

I snap back to the present, pushing away all the feelings of confusion and embarrassment of what just happened.

I begin sucking his dick, like that good girl that I am.

“You’re such a good girl, you dirty little slut” you moan.

“Get on the bed.” He lays down on the bed, and puts on a condom.

I climb on top, and begin riding him.

After a few minutes I get off, ready to switch.

I notice there was blood on the condom.

Why, Why, Why. If I didn’t want to die of embarrassment before, I do now.

I take a deep breath, “I am so sorry… I think I bled on you.”

I literally just want to die of embarrassment.

We get out of bed, and clean our selves up.

“Now what are we going to do to punish you for bleeding on me”

I look down at the floor.

You take out your phone, and tell me that we are going to make a video.  

“When I ask you where you want me to cum, I want you to say “Cum on my face, Sir,””

“Okay, I will.”

He begins recording.

I get down on my knees, and begin sucking his dick, within a few minutes he pulls out of my mouth.

“Where do you want me to cum”

“Cum on my face, Sir.”

He cums all over my face, and smears it around with his dick.

“You’re such a good girl.”

The video ends.

“Now, scoop my cum off your face and swallow it.” I do so.

“Good girl”. Now clean yourself up.

I go into the bathroom, and clean my face off.

I come out of the bathroom, and you tell me to make the bed. I make the bed, carefully and intricately tucking in the corners, making sure it is just right.

You climb into bed, and open your arms, gesturing for me to come cuddle with you.

My favorite part.

I climb into bed, and nozzle up to him. I place my head on his chest, and my hands on his belly.

“Let’s watch the video we just made.” He says.

We watch the video together, admiring my good work.

He turns on the TV, and searches for a show.

I’m finally at ease.

“Do you have cuts on your legs?” He asks out of no where.

Caught off guard from the question, looking down at my legs to see if I had pricked myself shaving. I respond, “No? Why? do you see a cut?”

“You don’t have scares on your legs from cutting yourself?”

“No… I do have some scars on my stomach from where I use to burn myself years ago.. Why did you think I had cut myself on my legs?”

“I just assumed because you’re pretty basic...Why did you do it?”

I think to myself,

Because I lived in darkness for too long. The agony of my pain became my comfort, so much so that I no longer could feel the pain. In fact, I felt nothing at all.

So, why did I do it? To see if I was still here. To see if I could feel something, anything at all, to let me know I was still alive.

I reply, “I guess because I’m basic.”

We lay there, but my mind is somewhere else. You ask “What’s on your mind?”, I reply back “Nothing.”

“You really like playing the dumb bimbo role don’t you?”

Caught off guard again, “yeah..”

I thought to myself, I haven’t been playing any role. This is me.

“You’re going to quit smoking, yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Good, you’ll be a whole new person.”

 

I think at that very moment, I finally realized what I wanted, what I had been searching for.

I was looking for someone to go into the darkest depths of my soul with me, and to feel loved and accepted for who I am.

I’ve never felt that before.

I don’t think this is that.

I tried on four different dresses. Red, Yellow, Black and Maroon. I was unsure which one to choose. I laid the four out on the bed, and accessed.

The black & maroon dresses would fall under the “not attract attention” category. The yellow & red dresses would fall under the “attract attention”.  It’s a first impression, I think I want to attract attention. Something that says I’m bold and confident, not shy and timid...But what if someone else notices me, or looks at me and then he gets mad at me for attracting attention.. Stop overthinking it. Just pick a dress, it doesn’t matter.

Red dress it.

 

Next, make up.

 

Am I allowed to wear makeup? He never said I couldn’t but he also never said I could. It is just a first date, he seems reasonable, he is not going to mad at you for breaking a non existent rule.

 

I finish getting ready and head out. I get to the restaurant. I look at the clock. 10 minutes early. Perfect.

 

I walk inside, and sit at the counter. I respond back to a few unanswered texts, and answer a few emails. Gosh I’m so nervous. What if I can’t make conversation. Why am I doing this. Why didn’t you just tell him he doesn’t need to take you out in order for you to fuck him. I look up from my phone, and there walking towards me was him.

 

I get up from the stool, and we greet each other with a hug. He was so soft, so handsome. He tells me I look nice. We walk towards the line, and make small talk. He asks me if I usually wear my hair curled.

 

He doesn’t like it, I should have worn it straight.

 

“Yes, usually when I go out” he nods approvingly, and tells me he likes it.

 

See, you’re fine. Relax.

 

We got up to the register to order. The women behind the register commented on how pretty I looked. I laughed it off, and placed my order. She turns to you, and says “You are so lucky to be out with such a pretty girl.”

 

I react quickly, “I’m lucky to be out with such a handsome man”

 

I read her name tag-

H E L E N

 

You’re killing me Helen. Don’t you know you mustn’t speak to a man like that?

 

She smiles at my response, “You guys are such a cute couple”

 

He responds to her “Thanks. It’s actually our first date.”

 

“Really? You guys seem so comfortable with each other.”

 

She wishes us luck, I grab our cups and walk towards the dining area. I scan the room for a table. You point to one, “This one,” then you point to a chair, “sit here”.

 

I sit down, I become very nervous— borderline scared.

 

I shouldn’t have worn this dress. He’s going to be upset with me for attracting attention. He’s going to be so angry that the cashier would even suggest that I was worthy enough to be his. Great. 10 minutes in, and you’v managed to ruin the whole evening.

 

You sit down next to me. Interesting choice, not across from me, but next to me.

 

You initiate conversation. Inquiring to me about other dates I’ve been on, and other small talk.

 

Huh, maybe he’s not upset after all.

 

I allow myself to relax a little bit, but I’m still nervous. I feel like I’m stumbling over my words.

 

He holds strong, direct eye contact with me.

 

It’s uncomfortable, it makes me feel very vulnerable.

 

I keep eye contact with the screen when I’m talking.

 

“Why do you keep looking up the screen?”

 

“Eye contact, it makes me feel uncomfortable”

 

“Why?”

 

“It makes me feel like you’re peering into my soul”

 

You chuckle to yourself “Peering into your soul? Okay.” You nod.

 

“Would you like for me to stop?”

 

I think for a moment, “No, it’s okay. It makes me feel like you’re listening to me.”

 

“As you should be.”

 

I wonder if I look as nervous, uncomfortable and out of place as I feel.

 

“You are nervous. Yes?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“You are trying to submit to me. There will be a time for that. This is not the time. Do you understand?”

 

“Yes, I understand.”

 

I’m embarrassed. I wasn’t trying to be submissive. But its so hard, he has such a strong presence and I’m so nervous.

 

“Hey, look at me.” The inflection of your voice seems warmer. “I think you need to hear this. You are valued and you deserve to be listened to, and should be treated as such.”

 

I look away, “I don’t think anyone has ever said that to me. Thank you.”

 

“I know, that is why I said it”

 

The buzzer goes off for our food. Thank God.

 

I grabbed my food, and hurried back to the table. You look at me. “Are you good? Do you have everything you need?”

 

“Yes, why?”

 

“It seemed like you rushed yourself in order to follow me back to the table.”

 

“Oh. No. I didn’t do that.”

 

“Hm, okay.” He walks away to go back to the counter to get the rest of his food.

 

I sit with my head down, starring at my food. Embarrassed. He was right, I did do that. I didn’t even realize what I had done, until he said that. I just acted like a dog, following his owner.  I hope he doesn’t think I was purposely trying to defy him, he literally just told me to stop trying to submit to him, and then I do that? What is wrong with me.

 

You sit down. I wait for you to begin eating before I begin to eat.

 

Shit, I need a knife. I sit there unsure what to do. Can I just get up and go get one? He said he doesn’t own me, and that I am free to do what I want. So I think I can. But I’m not sure. It could be a trick. Maybe I should ask him if I can leave the table to get a knife. But by asking, that makes it seem like I’m trying to submit to him, and he just told me to stop doing that.

Maybe I’ll just forget about the knife all together.

 

You look up from your food. “What’s wrong?”

 

“I need a knife”

 

You point to the knife next to you. “Here”

 

Great. He probably thinks I’m an idiot who is unable to problem solve for myself.

 

I cut my burger in half, and I set the knife on a napkin beside him.

 

We continue on making conversation. He’s very direct, and speaks very matter of factly. It puts me at ease. I don’t have to worry so much about trying to guess what will or won’t upset him. I think he will just say it.

 

We finish dinner, and go to the bar to get drinks. It’s kind of crowded. Usually I’d get anxious about being around so many people, in an unfamiliar place. But not so much tonight. We get our drinks, and I follow him to a table.

 

The conversation is much more fluid, I feel much more engaged, not so much in my own head.

 

I blurt out “Am I able to speak freely?”

 

You look at me perplexed, “Yes.... do you feel like you haven’t been this evening?”

 

He has a habit of answering my questions with a question.

 

I look away from him, and stare at the stage. “No, I have.. I’m sorry..I just wasn’t sure...” I kind of trail off..

 

“I get it”

 

I turn to him kind of surprised “You do?”

 

“I do. Have you ever been caged?”

 

I think for a second. In like a literal dog cage— no. But I’ve been locked into a closet, but a closet is much bigger than a cage. I think you’re over thinking his question.

 

“No, I haven’t”

 

“Okay, but that was a fair question to ask. Yes?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Well, you know how if you train a dog to stay in the cage, and if you keep him in there long enough then when you open the cage, he will sometimes remain in the cage? Or he’ll be hesitant to get out of the cage. Unsure if it is really okay. I think that is what you’re experiencing. You’re testing the waters. Trying to figure out what is okay.”

 

“Exactly”

 

“I’m trying to understand you, you are complex”

 

“I’m sorry”

 

“No, it’s good”

 

I don’t let people inside my head, in fact arguably I spend all my time trying to get out of my own head, to just forget, so that I can just be. It’s too much for people. I’m suppose to be a simple girl.

 

He grabbed my hand from across the table, and held it.

 

“You don’t have to be nothing, for me to be something. Do you understand? I don’t need to make you feel like nothing, in order for you to submit to me, unless that is what you need. Do you want to feel like nothing?”

 

“No, that is not what I want”

 

“Good.”

 

Conversation continues on. We get to the end of the evening. He asks if I want to come home with him.

 

Good girls don’t say no. Good girls don’t say no. Good girls don’t say no. I’m so attracted to him physically, I just want to touch him everywhere. So, not saying no wouldn’t be the worst thing. But also, I think I like him. Damn it. Was this whole evening just a ploy for me to sleep with him? He didn’t have to say all those things, for me to sleep with him. If he just wants sex, then I can give him that. I’d just rather if he wants to use me, not get to know me. It’s easier that way, if someone doesn’t know you they can’t hurt you. He knows me now though. It’s uncomfortable. There is no security blanket to hide underneath. I’m so confused. I honestly kind of just shutdown. The last 10 minutes was kind of a blur.

 

“You look uncomfortable. What’s wrong?”

 

I’m not even really sure what I said. Or what he said, admittedly completely missing the part where he said he was gonna pass on tonight.

 

We get up from the table, and begin to walk out. You pull me to the side and look at me. I feel so confused, and so vulnerable. If I said yes, I would have felt used. I also didn’t feel like I could say no. But by him saying no for me, it kind of made me feel undesirable.

You’re trying to figure me out. Good luck, that is not an easy task.

You mumble something to yourself about not putting me in a situation where I would have to say no.

We get outside, the cold air feels nice. I honestly can’t remember what you said or asked or how I responded.

You tell me it’s okay. You pull me in, and hug me.

How is it possible to feel so safe and comfortable in someone’s arms that I’ve just met.

He kisses me on my lips softly. Not overly sexual, where I thought he was going to seduce me or bully me into saying yes into going home with him. This was sweet, almost enduring.

You say “Promise me, since you aren’t going home with me, that you aren’t going home to go fuck some other dude”

 

I chuckle “I promise.”

One night, he told me to get on the floor on all fours, we were going to try something new. He began poking his dick into my anus. It hurt so bad. I began to cry. He pulled my hair back, to force my head back far enough so he could make eye contact with me and said “Are you going to be a good girl, and let me do this?” I replied, whimpering through my tears “Yes, I’ll be a good girl”. Then he replied “Then relax and stop crying.” But I couldn’t. It hurt so bad, it was dry, and so tight, each inch he got further in, the more my body tensed.

I hear him sigh as he removes himself from me, and he stands up. I can tell he’s frustrated with me.

I sigh a sign of relief, it was over. I wait for direction, as I know better not to move from the position until I’m told.

I hear him rifling around his dresser, and then he comes back down to floor with a pair of headphones and a bottle of lube. “My patience is wearing thin. You are being a bad girl, I told you to stop crying, and you have not.” I hear him open the bottle of lube, and squeeze the contents of the lube onto his dick, “You don’t deserve this” referring to the lube he’s rubbing onto his hard cock. He puts his headphone in, and turns on his iPod. Before turning the volume all the way up he says “Cry all you want, it will not bother me anymore.” I hear the clicking of the volume button and the muffled sounds of his music through his headphones. Then suddenly, he slams his oiled cock into my anus. His hand pushing my face down into the pillow, as I bite down on the pillow trying not to scream. Luckily it only lasted a minute, it felt like once he finally made it in, he came within seconds.

Usually after I made him cum, he’d reward me with his affections. Give me kisses, and cuddles. He’d rub my back, and tell me how good my tight pussy was, and how much it pleased him. But not tonight. Tonight I was a bad girl. I was instructed to sleep on the floor and was given a towel to use as a blanket. “Bad girls don’t get to sleep in my bed”, he said.

 

I laid awake most of the night, so upset with myself for being a bad girl. I broke Rule#1. I didn’t do what I was told. I agonized over why I couldn’t make myself stop crying. My mind starting to justify my actions, telling me that I couldn’t control my tears. I knew to shut down those thoughts immediately. He is not going to be looking for excuses when he awakes.

The morning came, and I got up  and sat down on my knees, with my head bowed down facing his bed, so that when he’d awake, he’d find me bowing down before him. Just a small gesture of my obedience to the start the day to try to get into his good graces. He awakes. Smiles a little when he sees me bowing down to him, “Who taught you to do that?”, I hesitated, “No one, I just wanted to show you I’m sorry.”  He quickly looks away, and says, “You may get up. But you have not made up yet for acting out.”

 

The whole day I felt terrible about myself. Beating myself about it, so frustrated with myself for being bad. How will I know how to get back in his good graces. The uncertainty, made me nauseous. After work, he texts me. He tells me to put on my black maxi skirt, and red tank top, and that he will be outside in his car waiting for me.

 

This was strange. We never go anywhere together. But I knew better than to ask questions. I quickly get dressed and go downstairs to wait for him in the parking lot. He pulls up, and I hop into his car. I begin driving. The car was silent. No music. I knew enough not to be the first one to speak. But he didn’t seem mad anymore. I started to relax a little bit. He rolled down my window so I could hang my arm out the window and feel the warm summer night air against my skin. He knew intimate details about me like that. About my likes and dislikes. I liked that. He was the only man who had ever taken the time to get to know me like that. 

I thought we were heading towards his house, but as we get closer he passes his street. He parks his car on the side of the street a couple blocks over from where he lives. I’ve been here once before.

He reaches out his hand for me to grab it. We had never held hands before. It was nice. Intimate. He speaks for the first time since I had entered the car. “I am ready for you to make it up to me for your actions last night.” He pauses. “You were a bad girl, and I did not like that. If I wanted a bad girl, I’d go out and sleep with a whore. But since you insisted on being a bad girl, I will show what it truly feels like to be a bad a girl.” A car pulls up, and parks adjacent to us across the street, and turns off its lights. Fernando takes a deep breath and says “When we get out of the car, keep your head down.” We step out of the car, and he grabs my hand. I keep my head down, and we walk towards the parked car. I hear the window roll down from the car. He and this man are speaking Spanish. I’m not sure what they are saying. But it sounds like they are joking around, there was some laughing. The man reaches out, and hands Fernando something. Then the man rolls up his window. He turns to me and says “Get into the passenger seat of his car, and give him a blow job. Don’t be scared. I will be sitting in my car, waiting for you. Then you can go home.”

I legit thought I was going to pee my pants. I was so scared. I felt so unsafe. So uncomfortable. I get into the car, and it smells of weed and booze. His penis was already out, which was a relief, because I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to muster up any words. I suck his dick, within 6 minutes he cums. Two songs worth. I get out of the car, and walk back to his car. Once I enter the car, and I have put my seatbelt on, he turns down the radio and says, “Today I sold you for $20 worth of weed. I decide your worth. Remember that the next time you decide you want to be a bad girl.”

Rule #3: If you’re a bad girl, you will have to do bad things.