Generational Sins (4 page)

Kat would never dress like that, and she didn't curl the ends of her hair in the way that this girl did, but if I took her from behind, I might not even have to close my eyes. She was a pretty close match, definitely the closest so far.

The girl was dancing with two other females, another brunette, who was a little rounder, and a stunning blond. I watched for a few minutes as the girls turned away man after man. They apparently were more selective than most. The blond in particular looked like she needed a stick to fight them all off. I always did enjoy a challenge. The brunette kept her back to me, and I watched her swing her hips back and forth in time with the music.

I had been standing here long enough; it was time.

I made my way across the dance floor confidently. Blondie's eyes widened slightly when she saw me approach. My target was still moving with her back to me. Her ass looked even better up close.

"You look..." I put my hands on her hips.

No. No. No. As soon as I touched her, I knew. Only one person in this world gave off that kind of electricity. This was no Kat look-alike. This was Kat Lake, the woman of my fantasies, my intellectual equal, my best friend, in a nightclub in tight leather pants.

Oh God no.

I dropped my hands as if she had burned me. I would have run, but she spun around to face me and lost her balance. Instinctively, I reached out and caught her. I could smell her floral shampoo and almost state her skin, slick with sweat. Her body was soft and pliable against me. I groaned out loud.

A moment later she righted herself on her ridiculous shoes and stepped out of my arms. "David?" she said surprised. "You startled me."

I took a deep breath. Calm the fuck down.

"Sorry," I choked, "I just wanted to say ‘hello’."

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I could ask them same of you," I replied.

She laughed and the air cleared a little. "It's Molly's birthday," she said indicating the blonde. "We're celebrating."

She introduced me to her friends. Apparently these two had dressed her up and dragged her out. The pants were not hers, neither were the shoes. I had to get off of this dance floor. I would not be responsible for my actions if she started to move again.

"Let me buy you lovely ladies a round of drinks," I offered. They followed me to the bar.

We found an empty table off to the side and sat down. We talked for a while but the thumping music made it nearly impossible to hold a conversation. As I was finishing my second beer, number Fourteen walked in. I couldn't remember her name. She brought a friend this time, how convenient. The two of them made their way over to me. Normally, I would have shrugged her off, but I couldn't sit there with Kat any longer. I couldn't have her, and I couldn't stay away from her. So I did the unthinkable: I left her at the table with her friends and went to dance with Fourteen and soon-to-be-Seventeen.

She should have been angry watching me grind against those girls. It should have pissed her off that I left her for some slutty bitch, but when I looked into her eyes, all I saw was hurt–I had hurt her—and it felt like I had been stabbed in the guts.

I tried not to look at her.

I tried to ignore her when she got up from the table and walked out into the night.

I pretended that I didn't see the tears in her eyes.

I tried not to think about her as I undressed Seventeen.

I tried to forget her as another woman wrapped her lips around my cock.

I was impotent for the first time in my life.

No matter what I tried, my dick went soft. I left Seventeen's apartment, both of us unsatisfied, and walked back to campus in the rain.

I wasn't meeting my expectations. My father would be ashamed of me. Kat would be disappointed in me. They amounted to the same thing: failure.

I sat on the ground with my back against the brick wall of her dormitory slowly getting soaked by the cold rain. The scenes played out in my head like a bad Turner Classic rerun.

I was seven. My mother had another doctor's wife over to the house, and she had brought her daughter who was about my age. When they left, the little girl accidentally left one of her dolls in our living room. It was a pretty little thing, with a delicate blue flowered dress and golden silk hair. I found it and played with it for the rest of the afternoon.

When my father came home he yelled at my mother for letting me play with dolls. He said that it would make me soft, that it would turn me into a faggot. I didn't understand what those things meant, but I understood his screaming, and I understood his hand on the side of my face as he took the doll away and told me that I would never touch another one. Eventually my mother tried to stop him. She knew that he was hurting me. But he only turned his anger on her instead.

That was the first time that I realized how much my father was a man to be feared.

I was ten when I walked in on them having sex. I heard strange noises and went to investigate. "Mom?" I called as I opened the bedroom door.

He had her bent over the side of the bed, her head pulled back by her hair. I could see black and blue marks all along her legs and ass. I was confused. I thought he was hurting her. Of course, he probably was hurting her, but in a far more complicated way than I had ever imagined.

I told him to stop it.

He laughed and then he brought his hand down hard on her backside. She winced, but she did not cry out. He told me that she liked it. He made her tell me that she was enjoying it.

I didn't understand, but I learned.

I was seventeen when I gave my first spanking. God I felt powerful that day. I had met the girl at a party. We were both pretty wasted, and she was in the backseat of my car up on her hands and knees. Her firm ass was right in front of me, her legs spread, and I simply couldn't help myself. I struck her lightly the first time and then slid my cock into her wet pussy. The harder I fucked her, the more I wanted to hit her. I did both at the same time while she screamed under me.

I never saw her again.

I lifted my face to the cold rain and tried to gain control of my emotions. Kat was just a woman. I should just fuck her like all the rest and get her out of my system. Why did I feel the need to protect her, when I felt the need to hurt so many others?

I took her out for a late breakfast. We were both starving after the barely-eaten dinner at my parents’ house the night before, and all of the intense physical activity.

She was the most understanding person that I had ever known. She accepted things about me that no one else in the world could have. How we had survived the last twenty-four hours together was beyond me, but I was glad. If we could survive my father, we could survive anything.

After we’d stuffed ourselves on waffles and fresh fruit, I pulled into our driveway and walked around the car to open her door for her. We were renting a tiny three-bedroom house for the time being. It wasn't great, but we made do. The commute wasn’t too far for either one of us, and it was fairly secluded. Kat and I valued our privacy.

The heaviness that had been here last night had not followed to the morning. Instead I felt a sense of hope and accomplishment. I knew that Kat felt it too, and it put me in a playful mood.

Kat got out of the car, but I pushed her back against the door, putting one knee between her legs, my hands on her hips. "Not so fast," I said. "I need to make sure that you aren't bringing any contraband into the house. You'll have to be searched before you can enter."

"Is that so?" she said smiling. I loved that she was always willing to play along. We needed this opportunity to have fun together.

"I'm afraid it is," I said. I slid my hands around from her hips to her firm little ass, pulling her against me.

"No one informed me of a mandatory search."

"It's nothing to worry about." I lowered my lips to her neck. "Unless of course you're hiding something." I ran my hands over her delicious curves, performing my "search." Her breathing accelerated but she remained still. I ran the back of my hand lightly over her breast.

"What is this?" I asked her.

I turned my palm to her chest and squeezed gently. "This is definitely not permitted." Her nipples grew hard as I teased them through her shirt.

"I'm sorry, officer," she said.

Fuck yes. I lowered my voice, knowing what it would do to her, and spoke firmly in her ear. "Go inside and wait for me in the playroom." She obeyed immediately.

I watched her dart into the house and then went into the bedroom to change.

Our playroom was really just a guest bedroom that we never used for guests. It served two purposes. The first was to simply provide a convenient space where I could leave restraints and furniture without having to set them up every time. That could be a time consuming process, and I preferred to be able to use my toys at a moment's notice. The second was that it gave us a place to play that was not our bedroom.

Kat and I had worked for months to find a comfortable line between our emotional relationship and our sexual relationship. I wanted to Dominate her, she wanted to submit to me, but we both needed to feel secure in our bed and in our marriage. That meant that we drew hard lines between playtime and real life. Those lines kept us safe. I saw her as my equal, my everything, and no matter which room we were in, I loved her with all of my being, but we both behaved differently depending on the setting.

I debated for a minute about what I wanted this session to be. Nothing heavy. Kat might be ready for a more serious session, but I was not. I needed to reassure myself that I was in control of my own mind and body. Being with my father had reminded me of every terrible thing that I had ever done to a woman, and I would need time to recover from that. Kat had needs too though, and I knew that she wanted me to Dominate her. It was her way of feeling secure. She put her trust in me and every time I honored her trust, and didn’t abuse it, our relationship strengthened.

Pulling on a pair of black leather pants, I crossed the hall to the playroom. I stood in the doorway for a moment enjoying the view. Kat was naked and kneeling on the floor, facing away from me. Her hands were behind her back and her head was down. She was so fucking beautiful.

I walked across the room and pulled a silk blindfold from the dresser drawer. Kat did not move as I fastened it around her eyes.

"Stand, Katlyn."

She stood a little unsteadily without her sight. I circled around her slowly, my bare feet whispering on the carpet, brushing my fingertips over her skin, drinking her in with my eyes. The bruises on her backside were fading. They would be gone in a few more days, but I would not spank or flog her until they were completely healed. I hated seeing her bruised. I prided myself in knowing where the line was between pleasurable pain and actual damage. I had bruised her on purpose, before going to see my father, and she had consented, but that didn't make it right.

"Come," I said. I put my hands on the graceful swell of her hips and lead her to the bed. She lay down on her back and allowed me to position her. I pulled a single restraint from the headboard and tied both of her wrists together above her head. I preferred tying them together because it allowed me to turn her over without having to move her bonds. I wanted her to have some wiggle room, but not enough to touch me.

"You are not permitted to speak," I instructed, "but you may vocalize. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Good girl. Spread those beautiful legs for me."

She opened her legs and the scent of her arousal strengthened. I fucking loved how she was always ready for me.

Getting up from the bed, I went back to the dresser. Deliberately making noise, I opened more drawers than were really necessary. I knew where everything was, but so did Kat, and I wanted to keep her in suspense. I knew that she would be listening. I pulled two things from the drawers, our smallest vibrator and single white feather. Putting the vibrator aside, I curled up on the bed beside her. I was close enough that she could feel my body heat, but I did not touch her.

I started at her cheek, lightly brushing the tip of the feather across her smooth skin. I ran a pattern down the side of her neck and over her collarbones. She instinctively arched into sensation offering me her breasts. I traced the feather over her sternum, between her breasts and down over her stomach. She bit her bottom lip in an effort to keep from laughing as I let the feather tickle her right side.

I blew a cool stream of air across her nipples as I moved it along the underside of her perfect tits. Her breathing was speeding up, her nipples hardening. I worked her slowly, slower than I had in years, rebuilding my control and pushing hers.

Eventually I laid the feather aside and traced the same path with my fingertips. I watched her carefully as she lifted her hips or arched her back seeking more pressure, more friction. I moved from her side making a place for myself between her legs. I put my hands under her knees and encouraged her to bend them until her feet were flat on the bed about a foot from her ass. Beautiful.

I ran the back of my hand lightly over the back of her thigh coming within inches of her pink pussy. She raised her hips to meet me, but I drew back, denying her the contact she wanted. I traced identical lines along the juncture of her legs and her core with my thumbs, just barely brushing along the outside of her pussy, opening her sweet lips gently. She whimpered slightly.