Chapter Four — Alex
Well, that was not how I was expecting that to go, I think, as I ride home in the Uber.
I shift uncomfortably in my dress. My ass stings slightly from the spanking Callum just gave me, even though it wasn’t that hard.
Also, everything feels sensitive down there. I mean, Callum must have had me tied up for forty-five minutes, maybe even an hour, edging me again and again. I’ve never experienced anything even close to that. I can’t tell if I loved it or hated it.
It was kind of like torture, but at the same time, it felt good. The whole thing was weird. I don’t know how to describe it. All I know is I feel frustrated, confused, and turned on, at the same time.
I almost thought there was something between us earlier.
When Callum and I had the picnic with ice cream.
But at some point, something changed. And Callum turned.
He was so cruel with that punishment — making me go down on him while he didn’t even look at me, while he was on a phone call.
Making me strip naked, nudging me with his foot.
The whole thing was so impersonal. Degrading, even.
But I feel like that was Callum’s goal.
And of course, I knew that when I disobeyed Callum, he’d react. I knew that when I edged him and then abruptly stopped — in other words, when I gave him a taste of his own medicine — he’d be pissed.
And I was right.
I definitely got a reaction out of him.
Just not the one I was expecting.
I think part of me hoped he’d snap and punish me in an angry way.
Spank me until my ass was raw. Fuck me like he hated me.
Something that showed he was passionate.
Something that showed he cared. But that’s not what happened.
Instead, the way he punished me was clinical.
Detached, almost. He teased me ruthlessly…
then just sent me home. Didn’t even try to have sex with me. Frankly, I’m kind of insulted.
And I’m annoyed. Because I thought I was taking my power back by edging him and stopping at the last moment. I thought I’d finally get the upper hand. But somehow, he bested me. Somehow, he’s still the one who’s in control.
It seems like a bit of a pattern: whatever I do to get at him, he’ll do it back to me, but worse. I can’t win. I don’t know why I can’t just accept that. I don’t know why I have to keep pushing the limits when I know I’ll eventually lose.
In a way, though, part of me is kind of impressed. Part of me expects Callum to fold eventually. To get sick of me and move on. But part of me thinks he won’t. Because I can tell that at some level, he likes it too. He likes the challenge.
And that’s why I keep pushing. I can’t help it.
Part of me knows I should stop. I worry that one of these days I’m going to push him too far, but I can’t seem to help myself from finding out where that boundary is the hard way.
Something else I’m confused about… his no touching yourself until I see you next week rule.
He said it so casually right before sending me home — like he was recommending a movie, not imposing an absurd limitation on a grown ass woman.
I mean, he had to be joking, right? Because a rule like that would be completely unreasonable.
Not to mention unenforceable. I mean, he knows just as well as I do that there’s no way he can control whether or not I touch myself. Unless he installed a secret camera in my house, how would he ever know?
Still, I feel like there’s something to it. He wouldn’t just give me a rule that he couldn’t enforce. Or would he? Maybe he wants me to be paranoid, and he’s playing another mind game with me. That doesn’t seem quite right, but maybe I’m overthinking it.
Either way, I can’t let him run my life. That’s probably what he wants: me to start actually following his rules out of fear. He wants me to start acting irrational. And then he’ll make fun of me for going along with something that was so clearly unenforceable.
By the time the Uber pulls up to my house, I’ve basically made up my mind. I’m not going to follow Callum’s stupid rule. If I did, I’d just be giving in to him.
And I’ve done way too much of that already.