Chapter 4
Chapter Four
So, now I’m just a biker slut.
Yep.
That’s me.
He makes me move away even though I love him, and I learn all there is to know about business and economics just so I can throw the whole fucking thing aside and be Max’s whore.
Damn, it pisses me off. It pisses me off so much! He calls me baby girl just like he did way back then, and I call him Master, and it pisses me off.
But I’m here on my knees sucking his cock like it’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted in my life. I suck his cock like I’m starving to death and the only available sustenance is swinging between Max’s legs.
Master’s legs.
Damn it all to hell, why do I love that he’s Master?
Why do I love this? I mean, I hate this whole submission thing, so why in the world do I keep doing it?
None of it makes a damned bit of sense at all.
When we started it back before he insisted I go to college, I thought it was a kinky, sexy kind of thing to do. I never expected to get so deep and so…
What’s the word?
Integral. I think that’s it. I never expected this whole kinky Master/servant thing to turn into something so integral to my existence. I never expected submission to be such a deep and… well, I can admit, beautiful. I never expected it to be a deep and beautiful thing, but it was.
And then I wanted to stay with him, to stay with the deep and beautiful thing, and he made me leave.
What frustrates me now is that I’m back and I’m sucking his dick like a good girl.
A good girl.
Those are my words, not his. I mean, he’s said to me, “Good girl,” before, but never about sex.
It’s always in other areas of my life. Like when I got a good grade on a term paper or that sort of thing.
Ace a test. I got that from him regularly as I got my AA, and it was part of what made everything a deep and beautiful thing.
And I got straight A’s for three semesters in a row.
And that got me the scholarship to the university.
And Max looking out for my best interests wasn’t so deep and beautiful when he wanted me to accept the scholarship and get my bachelor’s degree instead of staying in town. You know, there’s a point when it’s just… when…
Well, it’s pretty damned hard to keep thinking about this when I know at any moment, his fingers will tighten in my hair. I know that when he holds me in place, his dick will swell in my mouth and start spurting like crazy. I’ll dutifully suck hard and move my tongue like crazy as…
All right, that word is bullshit. Dutifully, I mean. I don’t have any right to pretend that he makes how I suck when he cums part of my duty as his submissive. I respond this way all on my own and… Aw, fuck, I’m close to cumming right now.
See, that’s the damned problem here. No matter how pissed off I get about things from an intellectual standpoint, I suck like a slut and fuck like a slut and cum like a slut and…Well, you get it.
And I feel like… Is there a word for slut but emotional rather than sexual? That’s harder to handle than getting turned on. It’s really hard to handle that I feel emotionally fulfilled and happy because he’s the master and I’m…
Not.
As this buzzes in my head, I slow my movements just slightly, as if I’m testing the waters to see if I’m the one sinking because I don’t know how to swim, or Max is drowning me by holding my head underwater. Now, I know that’s a really weird way to put things, but it’s a question of control.
At least, it is in my mind.
I manage to get my mouth to just the tip of his cock and I’m barely teasing him with my tongue and, damn it! My body screams for more.
Yes! My body is the one begging for me, even though it’s my mouth on his cock. My pussy practically yelps for something more to happen, for that tension to build again.
So, almost like a punishment for my body’s response, I linger back and just toy with him, stroking lightly with my hand. The tension in me builds and builds.
And Max doesn’t do a damn thing to change how I’m behaving.
Fuck!
I finally slam my mouth down on him, relaxing as much as I can and taking him into my throat until my nose is buried in his pubic hair.
I gag a little, but I force myself to stay there, and I feel the most wildly triumphant and sensual feeling flood me.
It’s like his fingers are playing with my pussy while he’s sucking on my clit.
He’s doing none of that, but I still feel that way.
It’s driving me wild!
I don’t claim to understand it, but when his hand finally comes down and grips my head, I feel wonderful. His cock throbs hard and he cums powerfully, making me fight to swallow as fast as I can.
And I cum.
Damn it all to Hell, I cum.
I feel my orgasm rock me hard. I reach my hands up to balance against his legs as I gulp thankfully.
I say it that way because I’m thankful that there is a distraction from the all-encompassing flood of pleasure shaking my body.
I don’t mean thankful in some sort of a submissive way.
I’m just grateful I need to focus on no choking so I don’t moan like a whore.
Or think too much.
I can’t fucking comprehend how I can feel so incredible from a fucking blowjob! My mind, my logical, independent brain, tries to rationalize it, but I just end up feeling more and more confused.
And I’m more and more turned on.
How the fuck does this make any sense!
I pull my mouth off and stand up on shaking legs. I feel a strange fury fill me. Max is standing there with his hands lightly caressing my arms, stroking them, and he’s just smiling at me.
“Get the fuck out of my house,” I say bitterly.
His smile slips a little, and his hands drop away from my arms, but he doesn’t say anything.
“Get the fuck out of my house!”
He sighs but doesn’t move.
I push him. “I said get the fuck out, Max! Now!”
He nods and pulls his pants up and buckles his belt. “Okay, Casey. When you’re ready for your spanking, give me a call. Until then, I’ll leave.”
His voice is so mild, I just absolutely lose my shit. I feel like every emotion is going off the rails inside me. “Fucking do it then!”
He turns and grabs his keys from the side table, and then he walks out the door. A moment later, I hear the low rumble of is bike. I start screaming. “Leave! Just fucking leave! Leave, Max!”
The rumble purrs louder for a brief second, and then it fades.
I shake a fist at the closed door and the strange silence beyond it. “Fucking stay away, you asshole.” Call him for my spanking? Yeah, right. Give in and let him punish me for my behavior. Fuck that. “Fuck you.”
I relish my regained control because that was the issue, right? I can’t forgive him for sending me away, right? I want him to go again because I’m losing myself in this weird dynamic again, right?. I want this to end, right?
I want this, right?
Then why is my voice so soft and empty?
I drop to the floor crying so hard my whole body shakes and I have no answer, no fucking answer at all.