Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Avery
I don’t go to his house to work tomorrow. I do chores on the ranch, and carefully avoid my dad, and then I go upstairs and actually spend time getting myself ready.
Our sessions have been so caught up in the surprise of it all, in me working for him, that I haven’t actually done this before.
Haven’t made myself smell nice for him. Haven’t shaved and waxed just for the occasion.
It’s funny, because I enjoy the act of choosing sexier clothes for him, underwear.
But I know it’s not really what he’s going to be after.
Because he likes me in his ropes, and nothing else is that. But what I hope he sees is the effort that I’m putting into him. To this fantasy.
To our time together.
Giving to him is good. It’s easy, because of everything he gives to me. I don’t have to draw a hard boundary around him for fear that he’ll take advantage of me.
He won’t. Because he cares what I want too much.
Because he needs my submission to be willing and enthusiastic, or he’s a bully and not a Dominant, and he’s definitely not a bully.
I feel like I’m more vulnerable tonight, which is maybe a silly thing. But I want something more. Something deeper. And it’s not about doing the next, kinkier thing, but it’s about exposing myself. What I want.
That’s another thing I didn’t fully appreciate about what I enjoy about submission.
Him directing it means that I can’t be rejected.
I’m terrified of that. So much of what I do is about that fear of rejection.
From not being the one to outline what’s going to happen, to my reluctance to tell him when he’s gone too far.
It’s why it was so hard for me to tell him what my dreams were. Because when it comes to my dad, he doesn’t care, because he cares about protecting his own interests. And with my mom it always just felt like abandonment. Like I personally wasn’t enough, no matter what I did.
Those two things have tied themselves around me, but unlike his ropes, they’ve kept me bound in a way that doesn’t serve me at all.
I’m done with that. I want to be free. I want to feel something more. Something better.
I finish getting ready and when I walk out of the house, I don’t say anything to my dad at all.
When I arrive at his place it feels different somehow. I feel different. Like a shift has taken place inside of me. One that I know needed to happen. One that makes me feel frightened and liberated all at once.
I walk up the steps and open up the front door. I don’t wait for him. He knows I’m coming.
He’s there, standing at the bottom of the stairs wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, that gorgeous body on display. I want to touch him everywhere. I want to put my hands all over him.
But I wait. Because even though this is my scene, it’s all a very fine line. I have no desire to be in charge. I only have fantasies that I want fulfilled.
“Before we start,” he says. “I want figure out where you’re at today. Yesterday was very intense.”
I nod. “It was. I’ve had a lot of time to think. About why I pushed so far outside my comfort zone. About what I needed to realize. About myself. About what my role is. And what I need to give to you.”
“Really?”
“I’m not… I don’t want to top from the bottom.”
He laughed. “Maybe some other people feel differently about it, but to me that isn’t sharing what you want. A submissive should always get what she wants. What she needs. Maybe it’s not what you want in the moment, but it’s what you need long term. You have to trust your Dom to let him do that.”
“I do trust you. I understand what you were doing.”
“Good.”
“I told my dad that I’m not taking care of the ranch anymore. Not unless I get to be in charge of the money.”
“Good for you.”
“And I… I told him I might have to leave. But I can’t keep the ranch running if he’s not going to pull his weight. He thinks that I’m paying you off by fucking you.”
“Did he say that to you?” His eyes look dangerous.
“Yes. Not quite so crudely. But he did.”
“And what did you say?”
“I told him if that’s his line then it’s a weird one. Because he’s happy to make me uncomfortable. But not in this way that makes him feel embarrassed.” I’m quiet for a moment. “I could only do that because of you. Because of this. You were right about me.”
“Some of the things that you asked for…”
“Are they outside your comfort zone?”
“A little bit,” he says.
“Do I need to give you a safe word?” I ask.
“I really will punish you for that,” he says.
I smile. “You are my alpha. My wolf. Whatever you want to do to me, I’m yours.”
His eyes go dark, and I shiver.
“I have big plans for you,” he says.
He takes my hand and leads me to the playroom. The lighting is dim, candles lit all over the room, the shades drawn. It’s different in there than usual. And there’s a large metal frame set up in the center of the room.
“You’ve done research,” he says. “Have you seen these?”
My heart flutters. “Yes.”
“You want to be closer. And you want to be free. I can set you free.” Those words on his lips scare me. I’m worried about what they mean, and at the same time I’m intrigued. “Tonight, I’m going to take my time with you.”
The words send a shiver down my spine. Because if that’s not what he’s been doing, then I am in big trouble. I’m in really big trouble.
In the best way.
“Kneel down for me,” he says.
He wants me on the floor. He’s not giving me the cushion of the bed, though it’s not quite the unbridled intensity of yesterday.
The carpet is soft enough, but I know that by design it’s going to put more pressure on my legs. But there is something about the sensation. About surrendering to him on that level. Trusting him.
The kinds of things that he’s doing can cause injuries if they aren’t executed correctly. And I’m trusting him on a profound level.
I kneel and the minute he loops the first rope around me, I know that he’s back to the red ropes.
He does that same knot around my neck that he did yesterday.
Begins to work on a very similar body suit— though this one is more elaborate— with smaller diamonds of rope crossing my skin, going over my breasts, pressing them flat against my chest and pinching my nipples.
He doesn’t do my hands immediately. Which is different.
An interesting sensation, because I could reach up and stop him, but I don’t want to.
Still, there is an instinct in the body, a desire to defend and I have to suppress it, letting my hands relax as they sit on my thighs, as he works his methodical magic.
Then he leans in and kisses my mouth, soft and slow. And I find myself arching into him, that movement tightening the ropes on my nipples, making me grit my teeth to keep from crying out.
He pulls away from me, then ties my wrists. This time, there in front of me, entirely different to how he’s done it in the past. They aren’t pinned behind my back.
He leaves one long red cord, then moves behind me, reaches over my shoulder and grips ahold of that.
I raise my bound wrists, my arms going on either side of my head as he pulls my wrists back behind my neck.
Then he works that free end of the rope into what’s already bound around my body, holding my arms up.
Though he’s moving slower, more gently this time, he does the same technique on my legs.
Winding rope around my thighs, all the way down my calves, before braiding them together so that my legs are locked in that kneeling position.
Then he ties my thighs so they’re forced wide, so that I’m entirely vulnerable to him.
There are ropes on the frame and that’s when I find myself being lifted off the ground, bound to that frame.
So that I’m suspended in the air, unable to move.
I have to trust in his workmanship. The pressure points on my body are intense.
The pull of the rope pinching my nipples, holding my pussy wide, the intense, painful sensation making me moan with need.
It feels like he’s touching me, and yet I’m so aware that he’s not.
Everything is so good, and so terrible all at once.
The amount of time it’s taken just for him to do the ropes is like a dream. A passing fantasy that I can’t even begin to put into words, or nail down.
I’m weightless. I’m a creature made entirely by him, and yet, it was all by me too. I’m the one that made this happen. I’m the one who knew myself well enough to understand that this was where I needed to be.
And I trust him.
With all that I am. With everything that I want. I told him that I wanted something different. Something more intimate, and he’s given me this. This ultimate showmanship of who he is and what he can do.
This profound show of trust, this opportunity for me to give him everything.
He stands behind me and holds me so that he’s pressing against my hips. He pushes them, tilting them up, while my head begins to go down. And then he kisses me like that, with me upside down and him feasting on my mouth.
It makes me feel like I’m shining from the inside out. It makes me feel things I never thought possible. I’m so… Smug. Because what man can just do this? Can create whole worlds and performances out of his expression of sexual desire? Mine can.
My Dom. My Wolf.
And he does belong to me.
The idea of anyone else ever having him again makes me feel like I’m being tortured.
I want to belong to him. I want him to belong to me.
I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
And this is maybe why he hasn’t kissed me all that much.
He breaks that kiss, leaves me suspended upside down, and then stands. I’m very aware of him looking at me.
Then his fingers are on me, sliding through my slick folds as he pushes two fingers into me where I’m hanging upside down.
I can’t close my legs.
Can’t control the movements in any capacity.
And I don’t want to. With one hand, he undoes his belt, opens up his jeans, and frees his cock.
My mouth is just at the right level, and I take him in as best I can as he leans in and sucks my clit into his mouth.
I can’t say that I’ve ever been a big fan of this position.
Laying down, it’s cumbersome. A working vacation, I’ve heard it called, and I think that’s fair.
But not like this. I’m weightless. He tastes delicious. His tongue on me is a revelation, and I find myself spiraling into a galaxy of pleasure.
He pumps two fingers inside me as he continues to lick me, and I lose control of myself completely, crying out my pleasure as I come hard around his fingers.
He moves away from me, taking that beautiful cock away from me too, and I protest.
“Not yet,” he says. “You have to earn it.”
I whimper.
“Such an impatient, greedy girl you are,” he says.
I feel it as a compliment. I feel it race through my whole body.
He tilts me so that I’m upright, the ropes now pulling hard against my pussy, and I whimper from the pain of it—my lips held open, my clit feeling swollen, sensitive, and exposed.
The orgasm that I just had has made me even more sensitive, and I can barely breathe.
“Be patient,” he says.
He doesn’t touch me. He stands there, looking at me. Moves around me, looks at my body from every angle, and I feel it like a touch. Then he grabs hold of my hair and pulls me back so that I’m on my back, balanced perfectly, suspended in the air.
His hand still in my hair, he leans in and kisses my mouth, gripping my face with his other hand, claiming me deep and hard as he does. Then he moves so he’s standing in front of me, his cock hard and proud, such a massive turn on.
He grips my hips and brings me toward him, thrusting that hard shaft through my slick lips.
Before he finally, finally takes me. He thrusts in, hard, and starts fucking me like it’s the thing he’s been waiting for.
Like it’s the thing he wants most in the world.
It’s all too much. Being held weightless— but also his body, hard and uncompromising as he pounds into me. It’s perfect. Wild, and utterly erotic.
And then, as he continues to fuck me, he reaches and grabs my hair. He tilts me up so he can kiss me, his tongue thrusting between my lips as his cock moves inside my pussy, so good that I can’t stand it.
I break apart. Shatter into a million pieces. And he comes, hot and slick inside me, continuing to thrust even afterward, the intensity of it sending aftershocks through my body.
He looks at me, his eyes wild and fierce. I see something there that I’ve never seen before.
He wants to keep me.
My heart soars with hope. With need.
He wants to keep me, and I want to be kept. There are so many other things that I want too, but he’s the one that made me realize I was stuck.
He’s the one that made me realize I needed this.
He takes me down from the apparatus slowly, lowers me to the ground, but he doesn’t cut me free from the ropes this time.
No. It’s a slow unwinding, as much a part of the process as the tying.
Then he gathers me up close, like he has so many times before.
But he doesn’t rush to get me a blanket.
He holds me against him until his heart rate returns to normal.
Until mine does. And then he picks me up off the ground.
And carries me out of the playroom. And into his bedroom.