Learning to Trust Part 3: The Offer (4 page)

Both objects stopped.

Thwack!
He struck me again and I cried out.

"So bad," he said. "Such a dirty little slut. You like that, don't you?"

"Yes, Sir," I said. The pain hurt bad, but I just wanted more of the vibration.
Why wouldn't he give it to me?
"Please make me come, Sir," I said.

"You'll come when I say so." He hit me again and again, my flesh burning and sensitive. I felt warmth flush my face red, probably just as red as my ass cheeks were.

Buzz!

I swore I could hear it before I felt it, almost like I had a sense for
impending pleasure
. My body felt like a sea ravaged by storm, waters rushing and rolling, chaotic and wild. The excitement was threatening to drown my consciousness. And just like before, he stopped.

"Damnit!" I cried out. He was taunting me, teasing. The goal was to make it something I couldn't live without, something that was a
need
rather than just a want.
My swollen rear began to throb again, my mind no longer distracted by how good I felt. It really hurt like hell.

"I'm sweetening the deal for you, my pet. I promise." He struck my thighs, the fat helping to insulate me from the full intensity of the blow. Well, at least I thought that at first.

Thwack!

It hurt just as bad as everything else had. My skin actually felt like it was pulled around my muscles tighter than ever, so taut and immobile, like the crop could cut right through it. But as it burned, I realized my body seemed to remember the pleasure just as well, blending all of the sensations together at once. I think my body was begging to be struck
even more
, expecting it to feed into my craving for release. Even though I was in pain, my eyes had stopped watering. Either my tear ducts were empty, or I was actually enjoying this torment. I think the latter was true.

Vibration clouded my mind again, causing me to rock against the wall, my head pressing so hard against that soft material. My hips reflexively rocked back and forth, my body under the impression that I was being fucked senseless. I was filled totally down there—and I loved it. I twisted and fought the restraints
, not to escape, but to direct my growing energy somewhere. In that moment, I truly had forgotten
whom
I was, my identity gone. The only thing mattered was that he was
Sir
and I was his
pet
. That was why this was a
scene
.
Oh, the sweet torture of it all!

He stopped and continued probably
four or five
more times, dangling my climax right over my head, just barely out of reach—and watched me scramble for it. I couldn't think clearly anymore, so overwhelmed by the needs of my body. I wanted to come so badly, worse than I'd ever wanted anything before. Sweat trickled down my brow from the tension,
the fatty flesh of my thighs and ass
so swollen and red.
I had willingly put myself into this situation, allowing this man I barely knew to control me, to manipulate my nerves and reflexes.

"I think it's almost time, my pet," he said, heat in his voice. The vibrator came out of my ass—
and
was replaced with his
cock
. Roland pressed up against my tender little hole, so sensitive after the massive barrage of vibrations. His cock seemed to throb with excitement, his body ready to take my anal virginity. I heard the lube again, feeling that cool sensation as it dripped down my crack.

"Oh god," I moaned loudly, feeling his
bulbous
head spread my asshole open even wider than it had been before.
My immediate discomfort faded fast.
He pressed into that tight darkness, allowing my muscles to clench his width, his power. My muscles begged
him
to move forward, the anticipation nearly killing me. "Deeper," I pleaded. He actually took that order
from me
.

"Oh yeah, it's such a tight little asshole. So lovely." Roland groaned as he went deeper and deeper into me, stopping when his thighs rested against my ass, a warm collision even though my tender skin burned. His hips started to rock back and forth, sending his hardness into me, in and out, over and over.

I imagined the scene
in my mind as I felt it, picturing the look on his face, his eyes staring forward with intensity as he watch
ed me move, totally helpless, a
slave to his desires. I loved how it felt and I loved how it
looked
. The blindfold made me picture something totally different than if my eyes were open. The image was so much more vivid in my mind, the colors exploding forth with boldness as they synchronized with the pleasure that raged through my body.

The air was filled with the sounds of our bodies slapping together. Roland thrust into me
repeatedly
, stripping me of my anal virginity
with such vigor
. It was so dirty, so filthy. He was right—I was a dirty little whore. His cock hammered against my sensitive rings of muscle, filling me entirely, pressing against the back wall of my pussy as he began and ended each thrust. Pleasure moved through my body in undulating waves, waves
I suspected were only going to get even more powerful than they were now. I was right again.

"Here we are, my pet," he moaned. "Come for me now!" The vibrator in my pussy swelled to life, literally causing my middle to hum in more ways than one. I saw my orgasm just over the horizon, imagining it like a bright burning light, one that was likely to explode into fireworks at any moment—and it did.

I had no idea how long our event had lasted, but I did know he had been teasing me for a long time. When that climax hit me, it was like every nerve in my body awoke at once, hardening my nipples, curling my toes, causing goose bumps to
spread
out of control along my skin. I literally screamed with delight, my howls almost totally muffled by the ringing in my ears. I did see that bright light, that energy, that heat. I gasped again and again, my head so firmly against the cross, my chest begging me for more air, my drool smearing against my cheek. The muscles in my pussy hugged that vibrator so tightly that I feared I might crush it inside of me.

"Yes, my pet! Yes!" Roland groaned a guttural sound that would haunt me for weeks afterward as I felt that unmistak
able feeling of him coming inside of my ass
. His cock contracted against my muscles as he spilled his seed, one spurt at a time into that dark tightness.
It prolonged the sensations of my near never-ending orgasm.

Finally
,
he and I were both spent, our bodies ragged and exhausted.
He pressed his cock into me one last time and left it there, wrapping his arms around my body and holding me. His hands found my breasts and caressed them for a brief moment
, almost like he was just making sure they were still there
. He let them go and traced his fingers through my hair, gently kissing my neck through the spaces in the strands.
I felt so warm and fuzzy,
drunk from the bliss
.

I actually hated when he pulled out of me, leaving me feeling so empty inside. He also removed the vibrator from my pussy, leaving me totally hollowed out. The straps popped loose on my arms and legs and I almost fell over, my legs like Jell-O. Roland took me in his arms and carried me over to the table where he had fucked me yesterday, setting me down ever so gently, like he was worried I would break. He kissed my lips and I kissed him back, thankful for that he had done for me. Everything felt so different. I had been on such a wild journey of self-discovery since I met Roland Starland.

"I'll be right back, Marisa," he said. I heard his footsteps trail off.

I stayed there, head clouded with pleasant thoughts, just taking a moment to study
the day's beautiful discoveries
. I couldn't believe I had permitted him to take me like that, to hurt and humiliate me—and then bring me pleasure that I'd never be able to forget, pleasure that literally blew my mind.
His footsteps approached me again.

"Are you going to leave that thing on all day?" he asked.

I had totally forgotten about the blindfold. "Oh yeah," I said, suddenly remembering it. I undid the knot and very cautiously opened my eyes. Roland had dimmed the lights from how they were before, making the transition a lot easier. I still struggled to adjust, somewhat perplexed and overwhelmed by my re-established fifth sense. Roland was right there, butt-naked, smiling at me. He sat down in his recliner again, leaving me on the table.

"How was that, Marisa? You did a fine job, really."

"Well, uh, it was great," I said, knowing that even the word
great
was a massive understatement. Honestly, I felt like I had been on an alien planet for the last couple of hours.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it, Marisa. I'm sure there are things you'd like to ask me."

Really, I didn't feel like asking anything at all. I was calm and relaxed, not wanting to dig through my brain for
tough questions
. Still, a small amount of old Marisa remained, so I did my best.

"
Uh, s
o StarChem, Roland. What happened with it? Why is it a confusing piece of the Starland puzzle?"

He sat in the chair, one leg crossed over the other, confident and upright. "Well, Marisa, StarChem was actually a project of my Father's that he started before his death. He basically forced me to work on it." His confidence seemed to fade as a sullen look came over his face. "It was very tough for me, Marisa, but I did it anyway. And then I got carried away. I wanted to make more money. I wanted to grow the empire. I was a man obsessed with greed, with expansion."

I saw it in him, the ability to be greedy, the ability to reach and take whatever he wanted. The
re was
a glimpse and then it faded.
I said nothing, waiting for him to collect himself once again.

"The government got involved—I really don't know
who contacted who first—and we hashed
out a plan to spread the reach of the company. We worked out agriculture contracts for small farmers in countries all around the world, poor farmers that barely got by. They were offered subsidies for using StarChem products on their crops. These were people that would have been far better off had we never got involved. People died from experimental chemicals that never should have made it out of safety testing."

I simply couldn't believe what he was saying. In all of the research I had done leading up to our interview, I hadn't found any of this. Suddenly I was awake and aware, almost totally oblivious to the fact that I had just had a gigantic orgasm that almost caused me to lose consciousness. "Roland, I never heard a thing about any of this. How the hell did you cover all of this up?"

"We either used existing companies in the countries we targeted. If there wasn't anything suitable, we set up fronts that no one would ever suspect. It was like guerrilla contracting, I guess. We had a guy working for us with an impeccable track record and it paid off—for us only. This happened almost
twenty
years ago, Mar
isa. I'm totally ashamed of it. It's one of the reasons why I stepped down from everything after I screwed up again."

"It's done now, right Roland? The contracts are over, right?" I was actually kind of mad, mad for the people that had been wronged through his company.

"Marisa, it's long gone. We kept this so well under wraps that no one heard about it. I realized the damage I had done, but I also realized that if the information got out, it would tarnish the company forever. I didn't want people to lose jobs in my company, so I just shut up and moved on. It's so hard to keep a secret like that."

I felt very sorry for him, a larger than life man that had been reduced to nearly nothing. His power was still nearly endless, but heart made him vulnerable and weak. He had given me so much pleas
ure, so much care and attention, yet done the exact opposite to innocent people around the world.

"Marisa," he said, "I prepared for you for a long time. I never would have let you in the door if I didn't personally want to reveal my secrets to someone. I decided I would test you first, to see if you could really handle my
truth
—and you passed. I didn't expect you to actually learn to trust me." He laughed to himself. "I figured you'd just call me a pervert and run out the door. But you didn't."

"Well, you've taught me a lot about myself too, Roland.
" I felt such a warm fondness for this man, a man that had forced me out of my shell. I had been stressing myself out daily for almost
ten
years, thinking of nothing but work. The weirdest part was that I was more pleased
about the fact that
Roland had confided in me than I was about the information itself. Normally I would be thinking about the story I was going to write, the words, the images, the emotions evoked. And in this case, there were
many
. However, something was different.
He was humbled, more at my level than in the clouds where billionaires usually sat.