The Meek Shall Inherit?

When she awoke at 3am, she was not surprised to find him occupying all her thoughts already. He'd been in her dreams only moments before, though she could not recall the details. He'd been in her mind for days now, taking up all her imaginings, affecting her concentration at work, affecting the amount of attention her family received.

She fought with him as much or more than the times when they were civil to each other. There had never been anyone in her life before who spoke to her in the manner he did. He was blunt, painfully so, and he didn't accept her feeble excuses for any behavior he did not judge to be totally honest. It angered her so when he dug to her very core and brought to light feelings and thoughts she'd kept hidden from herself for years.

But in her anger, she couldn't understand how she felt such an attraction, a drawing. It was not a physical attraction - how could it be when they'd not even met in person yet? It wasn't a sexual attraction - albeit being laid open naked and vulnerable the way he did was highly arousing to her. It was deeper, like gravity, like a moth to a flame, and she already felt the burning.

She fought verbally, she attempted to fight emotionally but that was quickly a losing battle, and she fiercely resisted all his invitations to come to him. Not for the normal reasons one might expect, not to avoid cheating on her husband because they'd always enjoyed a somewhat open marriage. She resisted because she was terrified of being swallowed up by him and disappearing altogether.

She'd been around the block long enough to know what a power exchange was and she'd been involved (to a small degree) that way before, knowing the dominant partner only had the power that was given to him by the submissive partner. If the sub said "no", the game was over. But she could not say no to him. She felt under a spell of a kind she did not understand. Captured, taken, overwhelmed. And most disturbing, such a large part of her reveled in it and wanted more!

A time was rapidly approaching when he would issue his invitation again and she would be all out of excuses and have to face her fear. She drifted back into uneasy sleep, surprising herself by wishing that day would come soon.

A week later, at seven in the evening, she found herself driving downtown towards the Westin. He'd flown into town that afternoon, told her to be there that night and to expect to spend the long Labor Day weekend in his company. She'd felt like a deer in the headlights, her eyes darting to and fro in near-panic, knowing there was no way out.

Her mouth was dry and her hands shook with expectation as she entered the bar where they were to meet. She was dressed very casually, a last defiant act, knowing that he was accustomed to the finer things in life. The casual, colorful, flouncy sundress stood out against the corporate suits and the basic "little black dresses". Maybe it was grasping at her last straw of autonomy because even then, before laying eyes on him, she felt his presence nearby.

The hostess saw her standing alone surveying the room and asked, "Are you meeting someone?"

She jumped at the unexpected intrusion into her thoughts and stammered, "Uh, yes."

"I believe your gentleman is right over here. If you'll follow me….?"

Kim nodded and made her feet obey.

The woman led her through a small maze of tables and diners to a smaller room off to the left side. No wonder she'd not been able to spot him before. She wondered how much more he'd had to pay for this extra privacy.

When he saw her approaching, he rose with good manners and pulled out the chair to his right and then just watched her.

Kim's eyes met his and she suddenly feared fainting. Her knees turned to rubber and chills ran the length of her spine. The way he looked at her - looked INTO her - was a physical sensation. She knew what a tin can felt like when it first encountered the can opener.

"Kim," he nodded cordially as she took the chair he offered.

"Hello Scott," she said, wishing it had not come out so meekly.

He asked her a couple of questions about what she liked to eat, then ordered for them both, something she'd not experienced before. And he ordered a bottle of wine. She'd never liked wine but she sipped it politely, figured she could slake her thirst on the ice water, but she discovered that apparently the more expensive the wine, the better it tasted. It wasn't half-bad.

They made small talk while they waited and throughout the meal. Kim was pleased to find that he seemed to have a completely different personality than she'd previously expected, although he could not hide the fact that he was used to being the one in control. He was genuinely warm and very observant of who she was and what she thought. He listened attentively, he spoke with intelligence and authority and the more she listened, the more she wanted to hear. She did not realize that she sat there wide-eyed, rapt. The wine had taken off the edges of any fear or uneasiness she'd felt, it calmed her and opened her.

"Let's walk a bit," he suggested after paying the bill. "The air will feel nice."

Kim agreed. She'd felt herself getting warmer all along, not recognizing it as an effect of the alcohol. Scott could see the tiny beads of perspiration on her forehead.

They walked through the manicured grounds of the hotel's gardens until Kim felt herself completely lost. The wine had dulled her senses from their usual sharpness and had made her giggly. She forgot how many glasses she'd had.

Scott led them in a circular path, holding her hand now, noticing that, although she was not quite drunk, she was a little unsteady on her feet. They approached the pool and Kim squealed with delight.

"It's so hot!" she said, "We should just jump right in there and cool off!"

He was quite warm himself, feeling sweat trickle down the curve of his back every now and then, but he had other ideas.

"No, our room will be cool and I'll have them bring us up another bottle of wine."

With a resigned frown, she allowed him to lead her on past the pool as she watched wistfully over her shoulder. "All right."

Their "room" as he'd called it was huge. A suite, larger and more opulent than she'd ever had in a hotel. Her idea of a hotel room was two double beds and a cheap TV. While she went to the bathroom, the wine arrived and he poured them both another glass.

It was icy and felt so good after their walk. She quickly downed the first one and he refilled it.

"I have to stop drinking," she mused to herself aloud. Her eyes had gone half-lidded and her speech was thickening.

"I'll tell you when you should stop drinking," Scott said.

Was it the wine or was there a harsher quality to his voice? More unquestioned authority? The sound brought tiny explosions in the deepest pit of her stomach and a tiny whimper from her throat. It was that Pavlovian response that she had thought she'd conquered long ago.

It was not lost on Scott, though he did not comment.

Kim fought the urge to answer "yes Sir".

He moved closer to her on the sofa and reached up to stroke her cheek. The scent of heat was strong between them, musky, earthy, natural. Her hair was damp and he stroked wet tendrils away from her face.

"I want you, Kim," he whispered in a tone that resonated through her cells. "I want to take you and make you feel things you've never felt before."

The words seemed almost menacing to her and she felt a thrill of danger. The adrenaline release made the minute hairs stand up on her arms and the back of her neck.

She didn't know how to reply and the mixture of fear and sheer little-girl innocence on her face inflamed him. He wanted her now, roughly, forcefully, and letting go of himself to do that was something he had to guard against. At least for now.

Perhaps she'd had enough to drink, so he took the crystal from her hand and sat it on the table before them. When he turned back to her, he suddenly grabbed the nape of her neck with one strong hand and crushed his lips against hers.

Another sound from her throat, part whimper, part moan, but there was no resistance. Her lips parted eagerly for his tongue and he tasted the wine on her.

He kissed her this way until he felt her body squirming against him, then he pulled back. Her eyes opened slowly, regretfully; she'd not wanted to stop.

Teasingly he put his lips just barely brushing hers, waiting to see what she would do. He moved his mouth very slowly over hers, smelling her skin, her breath, the wine.

Almost tentatively, she let her tongue peek out from between her parted lips. They were puffy and crimson from the rough treatment of the kisses before, just like the lower set of lips after a good, hard fucking.

She licked his lips, caressing them with the smooth, wet tip of her tongue. He opened his mouth slightly and let her tongue duel with his own. He felt himself growing hard as steel.

"Come," he instructed, breaking the contact again and rising to his feet. He held out his hand and she took it.

He embraced her and kissed her once again before leading her towards the bedroom. Just past the threshold, he suddenly caught the scent of her arousal, the womanly smell now very strong, awakening the animal in him.

Scott turned and shoved her violently up against the bedroom wall. Maybe she should have been afraid, but she was gone far past the point of worrying. He pinned her with his bigger body, raising her arms above her head and brutally grinding her mouth with his.

Kim moaned, feeling herself respond fiercely, wanting to rub herself against him yet unable to move.

He kissed her mouth, her eyes, her ears, and down her neck, the sweat in her hair now on his lips and nose. He kissed down her chest into her cleavage until he could go no further because of the fabric. With a growl, he turned her hands loose and ripped the dress open, scattering buttons all over the carpet. She'd not worn a bra at his request and he continued to rip until she was exposed to the waist. He pushed the top of the dress back off her shoulders but only halfway down, again effectively pinning her arms with the material. Now he licked her cleavage and moved to nuzzle her small breast. He tasted salt and the sweet distinct taste of her skin, something akin to caramel.

Her pink nipple was a tiny stone in his mouth and he rolled it around with his tongue. First he sucked, then he nibbled gently with his teeth, then he bit harder until she cried out. Her breath grew more ragged, a frenetic pant.

As he moved his mouth to get the other nipple equal treatment, his right hand caressed her thigh, moving under the hem of her dress, moving up until he felt the cotton of her panties. They were drenched and her smell was stronger now in his nostrils. He slipped a finger inside the panties, getting it fully wet and brought it up to her nipple. Her juices wet the whole aureola and he sucked it again.

She squirmed and whimpered, caught in the conflict of wanting to move and to touch him but also wanting to just float and feel the sensations.

Scott turned his attention from her breasts and using both hands, he ripped her panties down. He pressed his face into the triangle between her legs and breathed deeply, intoxicated by the smell of her.

Using his fingers, he opened her lips, feeling her wetness even down on the tops of her thighs. He began to flick her clit with his tongue while his finger pushed up deep inside of her. Kim began to orgasm almost immediately and Scott felt a new gush of even hotter juices pouring out over his palm. She whined in protest as he continued to lick and to drink, her clit so highly sensitized that it was almost painful. She came again a few minutes later despite the pain; dizzy, overwhelmed again, her legs were unable to keep her upright. Scott felt her stumble and he stood, pulling her to him, kissing her again so that now he could smell her pussy juices around her mouth. He helped her stop out of the panties and let the ruined dress drop to the floor. Her breathing was unsteady and she made tiny mewing sounds like a lost kitten. The wine, the orgasm, losing her will to his, it all served to bring her fear to a head… panic looming in her mind. So many fears of losing control… and now all discipline was gone in an instant. "Hold on to me," he whispered, his mouth at her ear. "Let go of yourself and hold on to me." She did, clinging to him, her fingers entwined in his shirt. "You're so dizzy, aren't you?" he crooned. "The room is spinning around us…" He knew the response he was invoking. "Stop!" she cried out hoarsely. It was hard enough to stand up straight without his words battering her. "Never tell me what to do!" he growled at her, making her cringe. "I'm sorry!" she immediately wailed, "Please….." "Feel it, Kim," he droned on, his voice hypnotizing her. "So weak, so fragile…" It seem then that her strength gave out completely and she collapsed into his arms There were tears on her cheeks and as he lifted her, he kissed them away, reveling in their sharp saltiness, the tang of helplessness that he so loved. "Cry for me," he whispered. "Let it all out." Scott laid her on the bed and watched her curl into a fetal ball as he undressed. She was so small, so powerless. He knew all the wine had only started this reaction, he knew from many hours of conversation that she had one of the most suggestible minds he'd ever come in contact with. It was because of her openness, her honesty, that she did not have the barriers and partitions inside that most people built. He crawled up beside her and took her in his arms. She readily clung to him again. "I will take care of you, Kim," he told her, stroking her wet hair, running his hands down her back, loving the softness of her skin. "Let me protect you," he said, knowing how badly she wanted to hear those words. "Let me give you everything you've dreamed of." She cried now, tears falling freely on his chest. Cried at the conflicting emotions inside herself. She had been told to grow up, to learn to take care of herself, and now he was offering her what she'd desired her whole life. It couldn't be real, she knew... but she wanted it to be so badly. He held her tightly and truly meant the things he said. He wanted her more than any woman he'd known. He felt that she was a part of him and had been for many lifetimes before this.

The raging hardness he'd felt before had diminished only slight and at the thought of her complete dependence on him, it swelled again. He needed to stop her tears now before she went deeper into her mind than was healthy. He whispered, "Kiss me".

There was no hesitation. She put her lips softly against his, she'd reached utter surrender and was now ready to be reborn again, his possession, waiting to be taught what he desired.

"Lick me," he whispered into her mouth. "Taste me."

She ran her tongue over his lips, her eyes closed contentedly, again the baby kitten looking to nurse. She licked his cheek, leaving a cool wet trail. She licked his ear, sucked the lobe, then licked down his neck.

"Mmmmm," she murmured, letting herself get lost in the sensuality of the act. As she ran her tongue over his chest, she squeezed her thighs together, feeling new moisture trickling there.

She took time to flick both his nipples, grown hard with his own arousal, and she licked down to the small part of his navel.

"Suck me," he commanded now in the same breathless whisper that seemed to draw her out of herself. He let his hand rest lightly in her hair.

Her tongue trailed down into the line of his pubic hair, the coarseness of it tickling her cheeks.

"Smell me," he hissed and she became aware of how strong his scent was. Sweaty as her own had been the rush of his testosterone was almost bitter in her nostrils. She licked his engorged shaft before settling her lips on the softer, more sensitive glans. His flesh tasted good to her, warm and alive and filling her mouth.

Forgetting that she was supposed to be giving him pleasure, she luxuriated in the feeling of sucking. Of licking with her tongue as she moved her head around, rubbing his cock against all the surfaces inside her mouth. She moaned with pleasure as a rush of pre-cum painted her tongue, setting all her tastebuds on fire.

She began to suck him harder, hungrily, hardly aware of his sounds of gratification when she suddenly felt his hand tighten against the back of her head. He was pushing her deeper onto his cock.

When it first touched the back of her throat, she gagged and pulled off a little. He gave her this initial respite but only for a moment. Then he was pushing her head down even more insistently.

Panic rose in her as she began to gag and she tried to pull away again but now his other hand was there too, gripping a fistful of her hair.

"Don’t fight me, Kim," he told her. "There's nothing to fear."

But she did fear. It was her nature to fear. And the arousal and the fear mixed together potently and flooded her body with raw desire that she didn't comprehend.

She'd trusted him so far and she wanted so very much to please him. The sucking was comforting to her and she tried to focus on that instead of the continual gagging it caused.

His hips thrust slowly now, moving his cock deeper and deeper into her throat. She gagged over and over, sometimes feeling as though she couldn't breathe, sometimes feeling as if she were trying to swallow the obstruction away. She tried to keep sucking him but she couldn't. Her whole world had narrowed down to this one point, her throat full of his cock and spasming convulsively around it.

Kim was crying freely now, but not fighting, she was afraid but not panicking. Her stomach began to knot up with each gag and she fought to keep from throwing up.

Scott's moans grew louder and that sound alone echoed in her head. She could not believe that this was about to bring her to orgasm!

"Let go!" he shouted at her. "Let it all go, Kim!"

She choked one last time before her tortured stomach could take no more. As her own orgasm began to wrack her body, hot bile rose in her throat. Her body rejected all the wine she'd drank, sending it up and out into her mouth, burning her as it came. The sensation was indescribable, the letting go of every muscle and every inhibition made her cry out in the pure ecstasy of abandonment.

When the hot liquid boiled up into her mouth and touched his cock, Scott immediately began to cum. Kim's body continued to automatically try to swallow it all away and the muscles of her throat masturbated him until there was not a drop left inside him. He knew she was in distress, choking and coughing, and he pulled out quickly now.

She gasped loudly, finally able to suck in a full breath. Sobbing uncontrollably, her whole body had gone limp.

He circled her protectively and whispered reassuringly to her, telling her how wonderful she was, how brave she was, how much he loved her.

When her breath evened out, he kissed her gently, the mixture of tastes in her mouth threatening to make him dizzy.

Kim did not speak. She had reached that mindspace she craved, where there was nothing but the sensation of floating peacefully. She could only go there because she knew that her body was safe with him as she drifted. She could hear his voice in the distance telling her it was so. Praising her, loving her. She was where she needed to be.

The End