Compulsion (7 page)

I bit down on him through my lips and sucked him in, letting him push into the back of my throat, controlling him with my hand on his shaft if he started to go too deep. He sunk the fingers of both hands into my hair, angled my head and started fucking my mouth with long strokes. I rather liked the little noises he was producing, especially as I was sure he didn’t know that he was making them.

My gag reflex seemed to be subsiding and I let him go a little farther. With my other hand I gently grasped his balls, pulling them and fingering them through his sac. His whole body shot stiff.

“I’m coming,” he shouted, and with a few more erratic thrusts he clamped his hands on my head and squirted down the back of my throat. He was so far in that spitting wouldn’t have been an option anyway, and I swallowed frantically to avoid choking.

His body caved in under me, his hands dropping limply from my hair, his muscles going absolutely lax from the intensity of his orgasm. For a moment he was at my mercy. I slithered up his body, quickly licking his chest—something I’d longed to do from the time I’d spied on him having a swim. I dragged my naked breasts over his torso until I could reach his mouth and kissed him, sweetly, slipping my tongue between his lips to taste him.

He recovered quickly and his arms suddenly clamped around me. Then he was kissing me back, gently, passionately. He kept me clasped to him for a long time before he broke the kiss and reluctantly let me go. I stood up shakily and bent to rub my sore knees. I saw him checking my ass in the mirror and raised my brows at him. He grinned shamelessly.

“Supposing you try on the dress now, Jane,” he suggested with a laugh.

I picked it up, slipped it over my head and wiggled into it, surprised that the metallic-sheened knit fabric was so soft. I looked into the mirror and froze in surprise. Was it really me?

The material gleamed with a dull, pewter shine. Matt undid what was left of my bun and draped my heavy fall of hair over my shoulder. It glowed rich red-brown against the fabric of the dress and my skin looked like flawless, creamy satin.

“This color…” I whispered.

“Yes, it’s perfect for you.”

The dress was stunning in its simplicity, a basic slip, clinging and soft, falling to a hand-width above my knees.

Matt came and stood behind me, looking over my shoulder at my reflection in the mirror. He’d put his t-shirt back on and he loomed in the background like a black shadow while I glowed in the pewter dress. He snaked his arms around me and I stared in fascination at his twisting black tattoos as he encircled my body. His hands came to rest, one on my breast, which he kneaded through the soft fabric of the dress, and one on my stomach. His hands were large, covering more area than mine when I’d touched myself earlier. I leaned back into him with a sigh.

The hand on my stomach began to raise the fabric of the dress, just his fingers moving to ruck up the fabric into his fist. It slid up my thighs, caressing my skin, and slid over my naked pussy, disappearing under his hand, leaving me naked from the waist down. He slid his hand down my belly, slowly. I watched in fascination as he slipped his middle finger through my curls to the top of my cleft then sank it into the wet softness to touch my clit with the most delicate of strokes. With no warning I shattered into a million fragments of light as I orgasmed, his strong arms holding me up.

“We’ll definitely take the dress,” he murmured into my ear.

Thursday

Once again I stood at Matt’s door, wondering what was in store for me today. I had a text from him on my mobile.

Running late. Go to house at 18h30 sharp. Sliding door key behind pool filter, instructions on kitchen counter.

I’d found the key and now I was peering through the glass door into the dim interior of his lounge. I was worried about his alarm system. He didn’t mention a code or anything in his text. If I unlocked the door and went inside, would an alarm go off? Would a siren start blaring? Might the police come? I’d replied to his text to ask him but he hadn’t answered. Five minutes ago I’d tried to phone him, but the call went directly to his message service.

Surely he would have remembered about his alarm, I thought, sliding the key into the lock. And anyway, if it did go off, I was just doing what he told me.

With a deep breath I turned the key and inched the door open, tensing in expectation of a burst of sound, but steady, unbroken silence greeted my ears. Relieved, I slid the door wider and slipped inside. Nothing happened.

I closed and locked the sliding door behind myself. On the way to the lounge I caught myself tiptoeing.

Don’t be such an idiot! He told you to come in so stop acting guilty!

I put my purse down on the side table and looked around. The house seemed different without his larger-than-life presence filling it. A faint appliance hum was audible.

I went into the kitchen. A pen and a sheet of paper, folded in half, lay on the main counter, but I didn’t pick it up right away. I filled up the kettle instead and flipped it on, thinking that a cup of coffee would be nice.

While I waited for the water to boil I wandered down his hall toward the master bedroom, looking around curiously. He was so distracting whenever he was near that I’d never looked closely at anything but him.

You’re a snoop.

Haven’t you learned your lesson?

I paused outside the closed door to the second bedroom. Did he keep it closed all the time, even when he was out? Surely I could take a little peep inside just to see what was in there…

No, no, no, no!

Yes.

I turned the door handle, half expecting it to be locked, but it opened silently under my hand. I stuck my head around the door.

He’d set the room up as a study, same as I had, but other than that there were no similarities. What looked like three computers were set up on the polished surface of a huge black desk, with displays the size of my TV. Numerous black boxlike devices with flashing lights were positioned around them, and a thick bundle of cables ran down from the back of the desk into another boxlike thing against the wall. I had no idea what I was looking at but it was not your average home-office PC. Intrigued, I pushed a little farther into the room, realizing that the air inside was cool and had a strange, dry smell.

One of my cousins, Bertie, was a computer freak. He’d built himself what he described as a supercomputer, which he audaciously named “The Bridge”, for online gaming, and had proudly shown it to me when I’d visited my uncle’s house a few months ago. To my uninformed eye, “The Bridge” had looked like a sprawl of cables and components over Bertie’s coffee-stained desk, but perhaps because of its large displays, it came to mind now when I looked at Matt’s setup.

I touched the surface of a flat, shiny pad that was lying on the desk and jumped when one of the massive displays lit up, showing lines of text that I couldn’t understand. I retreated out of the door and closed it firmly, surprised to find that my heart was racing.

I rushed back to the kitchen, suddenly realizing that Matt could have come home at any time and caught me snooping. I picked up the piece of paper on the counter, thinking it might contain some hint of why he was late and when he might be back. I was surprised to see how much there was, and it wasn’t handwritten. He must have done it on his computer.

Dear Jane,

I will be home shortly. I have some errands to run after gym.

Today we will be using dildos to stretch your vagina in preparation for my penetration on Saturday. Yesterday you voiced a concern that I would hurt you when having sex with you for the first time. While I do not think this will be the case, I respect your fears, and have designed a program of activities to ensure that you are adequately primed.

Although I am not there, I expect you to obey these instructions as if I were giving them to you in person. Ensure that you complete the steps in the correct order and tick off the items as you go along.

1.     
Proceed to the master bedroom. Remove all of your clothing and put it in the closet.

2.     
Let down your hair and put any clips on the bedside table.

3.     
Remove the quilt and pillows from the bed and place them on the chest of drawers.

4.     
In the top drawer you will find a waterproof sheet. Put it on the bed over the regular sheets, and ensure that it is firmly secured.

5.     
In the second drawer you will find three new dildos. Remove them from their packaging, wash them with warm water and soap and dry them using the clean hand towel next to the basin.

6.     
Arrange the dildos in ascending size order on the bedside table.

7.     
In the third drawer you will find wrist and ankle cuffs. Put them on, ensuring that they are comfortable but firm.

8.     
You will also find three adjustable straps in the third drawer. Attach two of these to the posts at the foot of the bed (put the looped end over the post and pull tight) and one to the center-most bar of the headboard (put it around the bar, thread the end with the clip through the loop and pull tight).

9.     
In the bedside drawer you will find a tube of lubricant and a small speculum. Remove them from their packaging, wash the speculum. Place them on the bed.

10. 
There is a standing mirror in the corner of the bedroom. Position it at the foot of the bed so that you will be able to see yourself when on the bed.

11. 
If you should need to, use the bathroom at this point.

12. 
Get on the bed and sit near the foot, facing the mirror.

13. 
Apply lubricant to your clit and labia. You may touch your breasts, stimulate your nipples and clit, but you may not reach orgasm. (I will know.)

14. 
Use the speculum to open your vaginal passage. Take your time to explore how the speculum works first and use the mirror to see what you are doing. This speculum should not cause you any pain as it is the smallest available size.

15. 
Once you have opened yourself apply lubricant inside your vagina. The best way to achieve this is to lie back and squeeze it from the tube. The lubricant will flow down the blades of the speculum to the desired location. Use at least half of the tube of lubricant.

16. 
Wait for me to arrive. Remain lying down, or the lubricant will run out of your vagina. You may remove the speculum or leave it in place, as you choose. You may touch yourself but do not bring yourself to orgasm.

Ensure that you have complied with all of these instructions by the time I get home, and are ready and waiting for me, or you will be disciplined.

Yours, Matt

PS. The alarm system will automatically rearm itself at 18h35. Do not open any perimeter doors after that time or the armed response team will arrive.

Oh god!

I was shaking like a leaf, staring in disbelief at the letter in my hand.

Well, you wanted to know what he was going to do.

Oh shit!

I was having cold sweats and hot flushes in rapid succession. My first instinct was to run but apparently I was trapped in the house unless I felt like explaining myself to a bunch of armed security guards.

I sank onto one of the hard wooden chairs at the breakfast counter. As I sat, I felt the moisture squeeze from my pussy. I was soaked. It was running down my thighs. My panties hadn’t stood a chance against the wave of wetness that letter had produced. He wasn’t even here and he’d managed to arouse me to a whole new level—at the same time that he mortified me, shocked me, frightened me.

Could I do it? Should I do it?

If I didn’t do it, what would he do?

The thought jolted me into action. I’d already wasted so much time—it was almost seven! He could arrive home any minute and I wasn’t ready.

I grabbed the pen off the counter and ran into the bedroom. Tossing the list and pen onto the bed, I hastily stripped off my clothes, folded them and popped them into his closet. Under normal circumstances I would have checked out his clothes, but I was in a frenzy of anxiety and that list was really long.

The bed! The quilt was next. I folded it down the bed in sections then snatched it up and put it on the chest of drawers, followed by the pillows.

What was next? The list had fallen onto the floor and the pen had rolled under the bed. I scrambled to my knees and groped for it. I suddenly became excruciatingly aware of my nakedness, my bare ass sticking up, the coolness of the air on my wet pussy. My fingers closed around the pen and I sat up, relieved.

I quickly crossed the first point off the list and the point about the quilt—but I’d forgotten to let down my hair. I rapidly removed my bobby pins and shook out the heavy mass over my shoulders, pausing for a moment to notice how softly it brushed my naked skin. I dropped the pins onto the bedside table and made another cross on the list.

Now for the waterproof sheet. That really freaked me out. Why did we need a waterproof sheet? I found it in the drawer and stretched it over the bed, covering the normal sheets that were already there. It wasn’t plasticky—it was soft toweling with a plastic backing, just like the sheets they make for babies. It had long straps to tie it to the mattress, which I secured with some difficulty.

As I moved around the bed I became more and more aware of my nudity. My hair caressed my back. The toweling sheet brushed my nipples as I struggled to pass the straps under the mattress. My thighs rubbed together wetly as I walked around. I became increasingly sensitized until I could feel the air itself moving over my body.

At last it was time for the dildos in the second drawer. I was very, very curious. I’d thought about buying a sex toy in the past but I’d never done it because, until Matt had broken my hymen, I’d never been able to insert anything into my vagina, so there hadn’t been any point. With the new insight that I’d gained over the last couple of days, I now suspected that I’d been missing out.

I drew out the boxes and looked at them with interest. The first one was small and straight, and bright-pink in color. I read the box—
Lady’s Finger, discreet personal massager, variable speeds
. It was actually a vibrator, not just a dildo! I took it out of the box and a shrink-wrapped battery fell into my waiting hand. It only took me a moment to realize that the back section of the vibrator screwed off and I inserted the battery. I replaced the cover, turned the switch on the back and it buzzed into noisy and vigorous life.

I switched it off and reached for the second box, which was much heavier.
Erotic Art Objects, 15cm/6” handmade glass stimulator for anal and vaginal use. Dishwasher safe
.

Imagine putting your dildo in the dishwasher with the dinner plates!

I opened the box and pulled it out. It looked like some kind of ornament made from smoky-colored glass. Although it was all one solid length, it looked like a series of balls stacked on top of each other. The smallest, at the tip, was no larger than a marble, and the largest, at the base, was about the size of a golf ball. My pussy clenched and tingled in excitement at its unusual appearance. The thought of that being pushed inside me, popping in one ball at a time, was incredibly exciting.

I looked at the third box and turned it round to read the writing on the back. It was badly translated into English.
My Ten Inch Dick. Lifelike medical grade silicon. Incredible natural touching and looking for playful stimulus. Made in China
. I started to laugh and took it out of the box. It was quite a bit larger than the other two and shaped like a penis. Unfortunately it was also bright-blue, which made me laugh even more.

I took the whole lot to the bathroom where I washed and dried them as per the instructions. I arranged them on the bedside table from smallest to largest and crossed both points off my list. Then I padded through to the kitchen to throw the empty boxes into the recycling bin. My body was throbbing with anticipation. Walking naked through Matt’s house was exhilarating and my arousal grew and grew.

I found the wrist cuffs, ankle cuffs and adjustable straps in the third drawer and examined them closely. The cuffs were made of soft velvet, triple-stitched for strength and fastened with Velcro. They had a reinforced eyelet where a clip could be attached. The ankle cuffs were slightly longer and wider than the wrist ones but otherwise identical. I hesitated, staring at them.

I had some misgivings about this step. He was obviously going to tie me down to his bed, which would leave me helpless against whatever he was planning to do to me, and he expected me to play a cooperative role in arranging my own subjugation. Arousal knifed through me. God, in one way this was incredibly hot, but in another way, utterly perverted. If I put on those cuffs I was as good as begging him to dominate me—handing over the keys and the credit cards, so to speak.

But you want him to. You enjoy it. You crave his dominance.

I shrugged, agitated. There was so little time left. It was Thursday already, in the strangest week of my life, and Saturday was a mere forty-eight hours away. I had come this far…

Was admitting that you wanted to submit the ultimate submission?

And in a few more weeks he would leave. All I would have were memories. Extraordinary memories. Memories that
might
be enough to last.