The Defiant One

Sitting at a bar, completely pissed off was not a good way to end the evening. However, I decided that there was not much I could do about that, considering there were not too many people that could offer up a good fight. The people at the bar snuck anxious and wary glances my way, which actually rather pissed me off. This elderly biker 'dude' beside me made me want to pound his face against the cold red brick wall a few dozen times. He smelled of brandy, cheap knock-off cigars, and gasoline.

"And-and she took everything and left!" The old guy with a grey beard and tattoos wailed, he took a swig of shitty beer and gave me the pity me stare. I looked coldly back at him.

When I did not respond, he sniffed, and cried out "I don't understand. She never showed any signs of loving him. I had my d-doubts, but I couldn't believe...I wouldn't..."

Dear god, shut up, shut up, shut up!

"And she left..." He continued, slurring his speech and sloshing his beer over the rim of the mug. He stared at the mess on the black floor and frowned, his brown eyes watering.

"Maybe you should get out and meet somebody else. You know—toe-test the water a little." I said irreparably, ignoring a headache that made my eyes want to pop. Why was I conversing with this jack wagon? Was I really that easy to get to?

"Yea—Yea!" He said a little too loudly. I winced. "I don't need her! There are plenty whales in the sea."

"Fish," I corrected, grabbing a napkin and mopping his new mess on the corner of the table.

"Fish, whatever," he said, flapping a hand at me. "Screw her. But then again, who hasn't?"

I glared at him for a few minutes until he seemingly passed out, his forehead encountering the table with a sharp smack. I grimaced and looked around.

"This guy come here with a ride?" I asked.

A few guys from the table across from me looked up.

"He has a bike," One told me.

"Not what I asked. I asked if he came here with a companion."

There only response was to continue to play their crappy little game of poker. I checked my watch on my wrist. He should have been here by now.

I was on my master's last straw really, and my defiant nature had gotten me ankle deep in shit a few dozen times. I was sore from our last session even though the bruises have already healed. However, the thing that showed him owning me was the strap of leather around my neck, like a damn collar, and I hated the thing. The only problem was, is that I did not know how to take the damn off. The whole reason I got into this BDSM mess in the first place was to tame my defiant nature.

It had been my friends idea, damn her. She thought that this would shine some light on my submissive side. I did the contract and paperwork, let my Dominant know what I did and did not like, and signed my scrawl on the documents. Two days later, I knocked him upside the head because he shoved a surprise thumb in my ass. Boy, did he turn up in a fury...

I was chained, whipped, flogged, and spanked for that. And trust me, I'm not doing that again. He didn't give up though—not once. And in all honesty...

He scares the shit out of me.

His sexy, quiet, and damn crafty ass has had me on the breaking point more than ever. His secretive smile—his blue eyes that are always on me, drives me insane. But he can be the most kind, smart, and compassionate person I have ever met. Instead of demanding things, he is patient and firm.

This turns me on, and frightens me.

A warm hand descended on my right shoulder, making me jump a little. Tony, also known as my master, walked around me to pull out the chair on the opposite side of me. He sat down, his blue sparkling eyes watching me with unashamed amusement as his eyes then flickered to the passed out biker, and then back to me.

His long brown hair fell past his shoulders and was an odd mix of red, copper, and bronze tones. He had the hard jaw of an arrogant man, and the large hands of a lover. His broad shoulders made a shiver run through my five-foot-two frame. His lips curled up at the edges into a wonderful smile. But I wasn't fooled.

"Ten minutes late," I told him, smirking. I wasn't supposed to talk to him like that, but oh well.

He watched me, his eyes brimming with humor, and he finally spoke. "Business meeting, pet," He winked.

I eyed his perfect black suit speculatively, and snorted. His smile fell into a mask of seriousness. I waited for the verdict.

"Feeling...rather...insolent today Lillian?" He asked, raising one perfect eyebrow.

"You know it, master," I chuckled underneath my breath.

"It is okay. It would get rather boring, you know, with somebody who never bends or breaks the rules. Wouldn't you say, pet?"

"Yes, master,"

"How much have you had to drink tonight?"

"Barely anything, master,"

"Good," He smiled, his eyes crinkling. "I need your clear head tonight,"

"And why is that?" I asked, turning my head to the side. I ran a hand through my dark brown hair.

He clucked his tongue in disapproval. "Do not question my intentions, little one. You are going to find out."

I swallowed, reaching for my beer to keep my hands busy. I heard his musical chuckle sound off at my uneasiness. I held back a sarcastic remark, and it actually took physical effort. He could tell I wanted to say something, and he watched me quietly. I bit my bottom lip and looked down at the ground.

I wanted to say:

And your about to find out what cheep, water rotted table taste like. I had a visual image of myself grinding his face on the table.

"At least you are being a good girl," He said, and I felt the toe of his boot nudge the inside of my left thigh. I jumped and looked around, color painting my face. I was not embarrassed. I was pissed.