2 - Overpowered #2
“Just some guy. Drake,” I mumbled, my cheeks burning crimson as I wished that I hadn’t said anything.
“Drake?” Mia said. “I don’t think I know him.”
“Well, his frat is having a party. We can go there, if you like. He said there would be lots of beer,” I said.
“Lots of beer and nobody to check ID,” Lisa said. “Let’s go, girls.”
I found myself caught up in the storm of excitement and anticipation as they began to get ready.
I just wore what I had been wearing earlier.
The other girls looked at me and rolled their eyes, proclaiming that I was never going to get a man if I was dressed like this.
That suited me fine, though. All I wanted was to be left alone …
and yet, I had spoken about Drake and mentioned his party.
Was my own mind warring against the rest of me?
***
We walked across campus. The night was balmy, and the air was sweet.
Drake’s frat was in a large house, and we could sense the party even before we could see it.
The air thrummed with music, and bright lights beamed into the sky, as though they were calling all the students to come and have a good time.
As we grew closer, we could hear the wild screams and laughter of the party. A huge crowd had gathered on the front lawn, and people were pouring out of doors and windows as though the house had gorged itself on college students and was spewing them out.
I felt my skin prickle and nausea rise in the back of my throat. A band of tension wrapped around my forehead, and there was a dull ache at all the noise. I began to fall back, wishing that I hadn’t come at all, but Mia and Lisa grabbed me, dragging me forward.
The other girls threw themselves into the party with an ease that I envied. They were already drinking with strangers who had quickly become friends, and I honestly wasn’t sure how they did it. I was quickly left behind.
I looked around, trying to find the only other person I knew here. Drake.
Then I felt a hand on my shoulder and a presence behind me.
It was almost enough to elicit fear. I turned and saw Drake smiling at me.
His smile was wide and disarming, and he wasn’t in his wrestling gear as before.
Now he wore jeans and a tight white shirt that stretched over his muscles, hinting at the manly strength underneath. Emotion caught in my throat.
“I’m glad you made it, Amy. I was going to call you soon. And you brought friends,” he added, nodding toward the gaggle of girls who were flinging their arms up in the air as they did shots. Men were already gravitating toward them.
“I did,” I said.
“Looks like they’re having a good time, although I can’t say the same for you. You don’t even have a drink.”
I gave him an awkward smile. “I don’t really drink. I don’t like the feeling of being out of control.”
“Really? Some people only feel alive when they’re out of control.”
His penetrating gaze lingered upon me for an uncomfortable few moments. It felt as though he was peeling away my skin and my clothes, leaving me vulnerable and exposed, my pure soul open to the world. I averted my gaze.
“It doesn’t help that I don’t like being around big crowds, either,” I said.
“Oh, you should have said. Let’s head up to my room.” He led me upstairs.
As before, when I had followed him out of the gym, I felt as though I had no choice. It was as though there was an invisible thread drawing me along with him, and all I could do was go along for the ride.
The upstairs was just as busy as downstairs. Drake had a lock on his door and opened it.
“You can never be too careful when there’s this many people in the house,” he said.
When he closed the door behind us, it was as though we were in an oasis.
The sounds of the party were muffled, although I could feel the vibrations in the floor.
He had posters of athletes on the walls, as well as buxom women with impossible body shapes.
He didn’t make any apology for this. His bed was disheveled, and he made a halfhearted effort to tidy it.
I decided to take a chair, while he perched on the bed.
“You know, I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone like you, Amy. You don’t have to be so scared.”
“I’m not scared. I’m just …”
“Anxious. Yeah, I get it. I used to be the same way,” he confessed.
“You did?” I asked.
He nodded. “When I was younger. I didn’t talk for the first few years of my life. Well, not to anyone who wasn’t my parents. Anyway, it got better over time.”
“What worked for you?”
“Wrestling did, actually. It gave me confidence and gave me a sense of purpose and identity. It gave me a sense of control. When I’m on the mat, I know who I am and what I need to do, and that eventually transferred over to the rest of my life.
Maybe all you need is to figure out your special place and, after that, your anxiety will leave you, too. ”
“Maybe, but if I do have a special place, then it’s not at college.”
“No?”
“I thought it would be different. I thought that I would come here and everything would start to make sense, but it doesn’t. I feel just the same way as I did at home, and it makes me wonder if anything is going to change. I’m just not sure.”
“We’re still young. There’s plenty of time. In the meantime, we just have to have fun while we can,” he said, the weight of emotion behind his smile.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” I asked.
He chuckled, as though I had said something funny. When he tilted his head forward a few locks of sandy hair flopped across his forehead, and he flicked them away.
“I’m not really looking for a girlfriend. I find labels like that so reductive, don’t you?”
“I’m not sure what you mean by that.”
“Well, what is a girlfriend? There’s a lot of different things to unpack there. I suppose I’m looking for something a little more specific.”
“Specific? Like a soul mate?”
“Maybe … but just someone who shares similar interests to me, someone who can tick my boxes, you know? It takes someone special to catch my eye, and there are some people you just get this feeling about, this feeling where you can’t stop looking at them, and you can’t stop being around them.
Have you ever experienced that?” he asked, and I knew the question was pointed.
I sat on my hands and looked down, hoping to hide the crimson blush that appeared on my cheeks. How was he doing this to me? How was he getting under my skin like this?
“I’m kind of feeling it about you, Amy,” he said.
I looked up at him. I hadn’t expected him to be so blunt.
“Maybe this is too forward of me, and maybe I shouldn’t be so bold because I know you’re anxious and scared, but I’ve learned that the best way to fight anxiety is to face it head-on and just throw yourself into life.
I’m thinking the reason you don’t have a boyfriend is the same reason why I don’t have a girlfriend, because you’re looking for something more specific.
Maybe you’re looking for something you don’t even know exists yet,” he said.
“And what would that be?” I asked meekly.
“A Dom,” he said.
I gulped. “A D … Dom?” I stammered.
He nodded slowly. “I saw it in your eyes when you were watching us wrestle. I think I know why you were drawn to it. You want to be pinned, don’t you?
You want to be held, be controlled, feel the strength of another passing over your body, making you do all sorts of things.
You want someone to take you and show you what this life can offer you because, otherwise, you’re going to be too afraid to take it for yourself. ”
The more he spoke, the more his voice took on a darker tone, but the thing was that I couldn’t deny he was wrong.
Ever since I had read some erotic and learned about BDSM, I had longed to try it myself.
I had always just been too embarrassed to bring it up.
I hadn’t thought anyone else would actually be into it and assumed that I would just be judged and ridiculed for having those interests, but I hadn’t counted on Drake’s outspoken nature.
I had read that some Doms had a sub sense where they could detect others who fit into the lifestyle. Maybe I had a Dom sense, as well, and that was why I had been drawn to him and why I found myself in his room.
He looked me directly in the eye and smirked. He could tell what I was thinking, and he knew … he knew the passion that raged deep within my soul and all of the dark desires that churned within. I had never had anyone look at me the way he did, and goosebumps rippled upon my skin at the feeling.
“I knew I was right. So, have you done anything with anyone before?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“But you know all about the lifestyle, right? About soft and hard limits?”
I nodded.
He pursed his lips and leaned forward, clasping his hands together.
“Well, I have had a sub before, a few actually, and I can’t go back to vanilla relationships.
I need a sub, Amy, and I want you. I’d love to be your first Dom and teach you all about what being a sub means.
I’d love to train you into becoming the perfect little submissive slut,” he said, his words growing heavier and more gravelly.
I felt so vulnerable being in this house, speaking about these forbidden things with so many people all around us, and yet I was also so safe with him, and so excited.
I was scared, yes, but this was a chance to bring my fantasies to life.
I knew that if I was ever going to learn how to be a sub, then I needed it to be with someone who had experience.
I needed it to be with someone who knew how to handle me.
“Is that something you’d like?” he asked.
I nodded.
He rose from the bed slowly, every movement deliberate. It only took him one step to cross the room toward me, and then he loomed above me.
“I want to push you to your limits, Amy, but if it’s ever too much, you just say no, okay? You can whimper, you can cry, you can struggle, but when you say no, I’ll stop, you got that?” he said.
I nodded.