M

The tension had been building for hours. Weeks. Years, if we were being honest. But for the moment we sat on the couch, legs lined up against one another, M trying to hold my hand, me brushing him off. Again. And again. And then the door opened, shooting light across the darkened living room where we were pretending to watch a movie. My heart stopped as I realized there were people coming in the room. We were fully clothed and behaving like well-mannered adults, but I hadn't planned on being introduced to anyone.
I shot M a look that I hoped might kill him. He shrugged it off with a smile. That damn, disarming smile. I stood up, shook hands with the people coming in the house. They asked if we'd go out to pick up Chinese food. I said I wasn't hungry. I was needing a ride home in 30 minutes. But I'd go with him to pick up the food, provided he'd drive me home straight after.

The food was ready when we got there. As we walked back to the car, I could feel him looking at me. As we climbed in, he set the food on the floor by my feet. Put the keys in the ignition. And didn't start the car. Instead he just looked at me. Reached his hand up behind my head and pulled me into him. His kiss was soft. And more aggressive than I'd remembered. He'd grown up.
I pulled away a little dazed, made some comment that escapes me now, told him we really should be getting back. He quipped right back at me - yes, he was learning.

Now it was our turn to blast the living room with obtrusive sunlight as we entered the house. He set the food on the table, started to unpack it as I stood nearby. Awkwardly. They asked me again if I was hungry, and I again turned them down. M looked at me and I could see some kind of fire behind his eyes as he absentmindedly set the Orange Chicken on the table and led me down the hallway to his bedroom.

I'd been there briefly before. Innocently. He shut the door behind him, eyes still locked on me. As he walked toward me I instinctively backed up - which was exactly what he wanted. The back of my knees hit the bed and I had nowhere else to go. M closed in on me, pressing the length of his body against mine, putting one hand on my waist and wrapping the other in my long, dark hair. He pressed his lips to mine again and I tried to protest through his kisses, my arguments muffled by his lips, teeth, and tongue.

"There are people in the next room. I can't." I'd say.

He'd pull back, look at me, let me think he was considering my request. "Shut. Up."

And then he'd descend on me again, pressing against me and hoping to catch me off balance to tackle me onto the bed and into submission.

I stood fast. "I can't." I shook my head. He bit my neck. "Really, I... I just can't."

"You know, every time you say that, you're just making it worse on yourself."

"Is that so? I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't."

And with that he shoved me onto the bed, without his hands leaving my body for a second. I threw my shoulders against the mattress, trying to "escape." He grabbed both my hands in one of his and pinned them above my head, his body on top of mine keeping me still.
"I said, quit fighting it. You know you want to."

I stuck out my tongue. Turned my head away when he tried to kiss me. Moved my body underneath his, all trying to wriggle free of his grip.

"Well, looks like we need something stronger to hold you, now, don't we?"

My eyes must have flashed, because a smirk fell over his face. "Right, will you stay there if I get up for just a second?" I shook my head yes for the first time that evening. My breathing was getting heavier, and I could feel my face flushing. The world was shrinking down to encompass only this room. He put on some kind of music - what kind I don't remember - and asked me "Leather or silk?"

I shot up in bed. "Really, you have to ask? Fuck silk."

He smiled with just a hint of evil and replied "Oh good."

He approached the bed with two heavy leather belts and threaded the first one to the top right post of his bed which I was just realizing was a four-poster. He climbed on top of the bed, on top of me, his legs framing my hips. He grabbed my right wrist - HARD - and cinched the belt around it. With another pull, he had my left wrist fixed to the opposite post. My arms fully extended, I realized I couldn't loosen the pressure as the leather started digging into my skin deliciously.

M pulled away from me and surveyed what was in front of him: Me, arms tied to his bedpost, topless, helpless, and panting. I got the feeling he'd been waiting for this. He examined his handywork already showing on my neck and collarbone and brought his lips to mine again. He kissed me deep and slow and I felt his hands run the length of my body, thankful to be free of having to hold me down. His lips and tongue and teeth soon followed, bringing soft whimpers from me as he bit at my tits, stomach, and hips. As his mouth reached the waist of my pants, he looked up at me with eyes aflame before unbuttoning each of the five buttons with his teeth. Then, as though that had taken too long, he seemed to claw at the waistband, unable to get them off me fast enough.

By then I was in some kind of daze, still in shock at the entire situation. At the ridiculous notion that here I was, lying in M's bed, by now stark raving naked, tied to the bed and at his mercy.

Until I was brought screeching back to the here and now (or the then and there, as the case may be) by the sensation of his tongue exploring new areas of my body in ways they hadn't been explored. His licking, sucking, kissing, combined with one, no two, no, ohgod three fingers reaching inside me left me breathless, biting my lip, hips bucking into him and every muscle in my body tensing tight, tighter, tightertightest holyfuckohmygodohshit.

Deep breaths. The flashes of whitehot light begin to subside and I was barely conscious of my surroundings. He was still at my hips, looking up at me proudly and I reached to cradle his face in my hands until I realize... they're still tied.

He saw me do this and smiled again as he started to unbutton his own pants, revealing the hard cock I'd yet to see. The corners of my mouth curled as he said "All right, now it's my turn." He didn't even need to get off the bed as he reached into his dresser for a condom, ripped it open and rolled it on. I had hoped maybe he'd start slow, let me warm up again as I came back down. He had other ideas.

He came down upon me, sinking his teeth into my neck hard enough to make me wince at exactly the moment he thrust himself into me, hard and full. Before I could cry out, he pushed his tongue into my mouth with the same force he was still exerting on the rest of my body. His body seemed to be hovering above mine, save for where we were connected. He twisted and turned by body to appeal to his whim. I was his plaything - through to the end.

And by that end, I was covered in sweat and bruises and him. I was hot and sticky and exhausted and perfectly content. Somehow it didn't matter anymore that it was three hours later than when I was supposed to have been home. I'd gotten my ass kicked and loved every second of it.


(this may take some revising, but I promised its participant I'd post it and I've taken long enough to do so. I hope it was worth the wait, sugar.)