A Beginning - His Side of the Story

'You know how to sew, right Chelsea?' Dean asked.

Dean knew Chelsea could indeed sew. She was quite good at it. He knew because he followed her posts on Facebook and Instagram. It was the only way they kept in contact, now that they were studying their post grads in different universities. It was a picture she had posted that had sparked an idea in Dean's head. He had seen the exact same photo, with the same caption while browsing reddit. He knew he had found an anonymous account of Chelsea's. And he couldn't help but snoop. Dean had harboured romantic feelings for Chelsea for so many years now. He felt such a rush at the thought of stumbling upon hidden thoughts of hers. So, he snooped. And he found the timid girl that he had a crush on had a few unexpected kinks.

That was a few weeks ago now. A few weeks before this reunion dinner. All the old teammates from the martial arts crew got together once a year, when everyone was in town visiting their family over the Christmas period.

'Yeah, I mean I can take pants up or sew a button.' Chelsea responded humbly.

She's so modest. Dean observed. He grinned. He had some pictures in his back pocket that were anything but modest. He felt giddy with excitement as he spun his lie. 'Awesome! One of my favourite shirts had the pocket torn off on Christmas day by my little niece. Reckon you could swing by and take a look? See if its salvageable? The wife has another family shindig tomorrow, and I'd love to wear that shirt...'

It was a lie in more ways than one. Carly was hardly his wife. She was a mate who needed to get her conservative parents off her back about settling down. She was a lesbian and had no intentions of doing that, so her and Dean, after returning from a group vacation overseas, claimed that they eloped. Neither of them put much effort into the charade, except when back in their hometown. They only really put the show on for Carly's parents. But Chelsea didn't know that. And Chelsea also didn't know that there was no shirt that needed mending. Dean just needed to get her into his house.

She smiled at him, her light brown eyes twinkling. 'I can definitely take a look. I've got no plans and a pocket shouldn't take too long anyway. If it's something I can do I could easily have it back to you later tonight or early tomorrow morning. The motel I'm staying at isn't far from your old house. Actually, I think it's just across the road. But no promises! I'm not exactly a tailor.'

Perfect. Dean was worried that she would decline to help him, and he would have to come up with some other plan. But so far, so good! 'You're a lifesaver Chels!'

'No promises!' Chelsea reiterated. Her cheeky smile seemed so innocent to Dean. How can she seem so cute and naïve and yet at the same time harbour such depraved fantasies?

A couple sitting across from Dean rose and declared that it was time for them to leave. Only 8pm, but they had kids at home. Understandable. Dean considered that it probably wasn't a bad time to make a move anyway. They'd all had a good couple of hours to catch up on the news of the year and enjoy some good food. I wouldn't mind some desert though... Dean stole a glance at Chelsea. She was watching the other two teammates leave. Her dress showed all her curves. I can't wait...

'I think I'm ready to call it an evening too.' He announced. 'Hey Chels, if you're good to go, why don't you come straight back to mine and you can sus out my shirt situation? Pretty please?' He gave his best winning smile. He knew the ladies loved that one. C'mon, Chels, say yes?

'Sure, no problem.' Chelsea shrugged. Alright! In his mind, Dean fist pumped the air. Everything was working out just like he planned.

Everyone said their farewells for another year and Dean lead Chelsea down the road to his house. They made small talk as they strolled. As they approached his two-storey home, Chelsea quickly darted into the cheap inn, and grabbed her sewing supplies. She's so enthusiastic, so eager to help. Dean remarked.

'Of course, you take a sewing kit with you when you travel. Never change Chels.' Such a wholesome girl. Such a turn on...

As Dean showed her inside his house, they were discussing the old days in the dojo.

Chelsea was saying: 'I remember the basics and most of the self-defence, but things like escorting someone off premises and subduing an intruder, I haven't had to practice at all, so I don't really recall'

Dean kicked his shoes off and dumped the contents of his pockets onto the hallway table. Oh, you've just left yourself wide open now Chels... 'Oh, that's easy. I haven't had to use it of course, but I do remember it, Here, I'll show you.'

Dean waited as Chelsea slipped off her heels, the curve in her leg showed that she maintained her fit physique. She chuckled a bit before speaking again. 'Alrighty then, and then I'll take a look at your shirt. So,' She stepped slightly closer to him and reached her hand out towards his wrist.

Oh, no, I'm running this show. ''I think it's easier if I show you.' He asserted. Secured her wrist with little else but his thumb, applying pressure so that her wrist and arm twisted, and Chelsea was forced to walk where he guided to avoid bending her arm in ways it simply wouldn't, or shouldn't bend. Dean's heartbeat sped up as he gipped her. He had gone over this scenario so many times since finding her reddit account. In none of his imaginings had he pictured her providing such a convenient opening for him to overpower her. This is too good to be true...

Dean's ego and pulse both skyrocketed. He led her by her tippy toes to the master bedroom, where the non-existent shirt supposedly waited to be examined.

'Ah, I see. I was almost right' Chelsea's voice was unsteady. Am I hurting her? Am I scaring her already? I haven't even begun...

'And that's how you do it' Dean said as he released her, keeping up the pretence of merely demonstrating self-defence techniques to her.

Chelsea seemed oblivious to any other motives Dean may have had. 'Well hopefully I never do need to use it, but thanks for the refresher. Is the missus still out or something?' She asked as she looked around. The house was dark, of course no one else was home.

Dean almost laughed. She's so oblivious. It's endearing. Just you and me, Chelsea. 'Carly is staying with her family a few suburbs away tonight. Her sister just had a baby so they're all busy fawning over the new bub and helping prepare for the massive influx of cousins and distant relatives tomorrow.' The pre-fabricated story came easily to Dean. He thought he saw a bit more colour rise in Chelsea's cheeks. Does she feel unsafe, alone in a man's home? Maybe she's thinking about the things I could do to her. She can't possibly know what I have in mind. His eyes lowered slightly as he took in her form. That dress, clinging to her breasts and her hips. Does she know how fucking hot she is?

'So where is this shirt? I'll see if I can't do a quick hand job on it.' Chelsea offered guilelessly. Dean supressed the urge to laugh, simply letting a mischievous smile split his face. He felt a twinge in his pants as his manhood reacted to the idea of Chelsea jerking him off. Oh, you have no idea... Seeming to read his thoughts, Chelsea lowered her face, attempting to conceal her blushing cheeks. It was so adorable.

'I mean, like, hand-stitch it, not like... I didn't mean... obviously...' She was trying so hard to not look at Dean. It just fuelled the fire in his groin. His grin became broader.

First,' He started 'I'll show you the second bit, and then we can get to the hand job hey?' He flirted with her. His mind still entertaining thoughts of Chelsea licking her lips in concentration as her hands rapidly beat on his cock. Stay on track. He reminded himself.

Chelsea started to raise her head again. Before she could, Dean made his play. He moved swiftly across the carpet, spinning Chelsea around to land face first on his mattress, sliding his feet inside hers to widen her stance and bending both arms behind her back. He held them in place with one strong hand, the other exerting enough pressure on her head that she couldn't turn to look. He pressed her down into the bed with his own weight. She was subdued. Dean felt the heat in is member transform into hardness. His erection pressed through the material of his pants. He was sure Chelsea could feel it between her butt cheeks. Good, he thought. Let her feel it. Let her imagine what's coming.

'Wha-' Chelsea seemed very confused. She couldn't even form a complete word, let alone sentence. She's so innocent, even if her fantasies aren't.

Dean leant a little bit closer to her ear so she would hear his whisper. 'Too fast?' He breathed into her ear.

As if Deans question had allowed her to restabilise, Chelsea responded. 'Oh, the whole "subduing an intruder" thing... I didn't quite catch how you did that.' I didn't mean for you to. Dean thought. He shifted a little, his crotch rubbed against the fabric of her dress. He wanted her to feel his arousal at her defencelessness. She went on as if oblivious, or perhaps in denial: 'Maybe I should take a look at that shirt pocket and- '

'There is no shirt,' Dean admitted. Well, it's all out in the open now. Time to drop the charade.

Dean could almost see the cogs in her brain turn as Chelsea attempted to make sense of her situation.

'Umm...' She started. She moved slightly, enough to feel how powerless she was in this position. Dean had her feet in such a way that she couldn't get a grip on the carpet. The strength with which he held her hands was so that she was unable to fight back. She would have been able to otherwise, Dean knew how well Chelsea could fight. They had been sparring partners what felt like a lifetime ago. But she had all but given herself to him and there was nothing she could do from this position. Is this what turns her on? Just like it turns me on? Dean took measure of the helpless woman beneath him, and he became harder.

'Chel-sea' Dean teased her in a sing-sing voice, mocking her. He could see her pulse quicken in her neck. Her heartbeat accelerated. He knew her adrenaline was kicking in. but is it fear or pleasure. Or both maybe? I know you're into this kind of thing Chelsea. I know the online groups you're a part of. He breathed in her scent, at the nape of her neck.

'I... I don-' Chelsea stammered.

'You seem confused Chels.' He offered. He could see she was still trying to process what was happening. She tried to move, testing his strength. But he had her completely subdued, and her efforts made no progress. Struggle all you like little girl, but I've got you and I am not letting go. She stopped moving, understanding her subjugation. Dean noticed a thin sheen of sweat forming on her pale skin.

'You gunna let me up? I didn't even follow how you "subdued me."' The tremor in Chelsea's voice betrayed her uncertainty. She let out a nervous giggle.

Still in denial hey? Let's put that to rest. 'You don't seem to understand. I lured you here under false pretences. And I now have you completely at my mercy.' I sound like a cheesy Hollywood villain He thought. He smirked at the tacky words. Then, just in case she thought otherwise, he added: 'I'm not joking.'

Dean felt Chelsea stiffen slightly. Does she understand now? He tightened his grip on her wrists and Chelsea uttered a small 'unh' sound in response. Ugh, that was hot. Another tweak in the muscles of his cock. He pushed against her backside, grinding his hard shaft into her arse. Feel it, Chels? Feel what you're doing to me! He heard her gasp. He grinned malevolently.

'No... Dean,' Chelsea pleaded. Does she really want me to stop?

"Here's what's going to happen.' Dean laid down the ground rules. 'I am going to do whatever the fuck I want with you. With your body. I am going to make you do things. I think you're going to enjoy it. I can feel your heat.' He bluffed as he pressed up against her. "But you do have an option. If you say, "caramel milkshake" I will stop. You'll be free to walk out of here. You can fill out a police report for sexual abuse, rape, whatever.'

Dean hardly finished explaining before Chelsea opened her mouth: 'Ca-'

Does she really not want this? He wondered as he clapped his hand over her mouth. Her eyes widened in fear. He felt her breath coming hot and fast from her nostrils onto his fingers just below. Just let me finish explaining!

'There will be consequences though.' Just hear me out. Dean reached behind his hand back, into his pocket. The pictures. He tossed them down in front of Chelsea's face, and gave her a few moments to consider their contents.

Dean had known she was staying just across the street. She mentioned the motel name in the group text when the team organised the annual dinner. And he couldn't resist a peek. Last night, when he peered down across the road, he couldn't believe what he saw. The angle from upstairs was just right to see over the top of the shelf that was there to obscure the view into the motel room from outside onlookers. And Chelsea had the windows open just enough that he could see into the room. She was on the bed. Naked. He'd imagined her like that so many times. She was touching herself. Stroking her pussy with one hand and fingering her arsehole with the other. Dean ran to get the DSLR camera, the one with decent zoom, out of the cupboard and snapped a few photographs. What is she thinking about? He had wondered. He stroked his swollen cock as he watched her pleasuring herself. Imagining all the nasty things she could be picturing. And he thought of all the ways he could use her body. And those pictures could give me leverage over her to do just that... He thought predatorially. He already knew what he was going to do to her the next night, this night. But these photos presented a new angle. Blackmail. He had watched her finish and left the window. Then he had printed the pictures and jerked it to them twice that night, eventually settling on the plan that he was currently enacting.

Dean snapped out of the memory and back to reality. He went on to explain his threat: 'If you don't want to cooperate, I know a certain conservative Christian microbiology professor who would probably not appreciate being sent compromising photos of one of his employees. Especially if that employee would be about due for a promotion...' She won't know I don't mean it. Dean only made the threat in order to give Chelsea an excuse to cooperate. He had no intentions to do anything she truly didn't want to do. Or at least nothing that he couldn't make her want... He gently wiped away the bead of sweat that had formed on her temple. 'I sure don't want to have a negative effect on your career.' He gave her a few moments to consider before speaking again. 'So, you do have a choice.'

'I hardly see how' Chelsea retorted.

Dean felt a small pang of guilt. I thought I explained it pretty well... 'You know what you have to say to make it stop. If you don't say it, then what we're doing is perfectly consensual'. He clarified. Mostly anyway.

'You're fucking blackmailing me!' Chelsea exclaimed. Fiery spirit. He had always seen it behind her shy façade. It was part of his attraction to her.

'More like a bit of extra motivation.' I know you know me, and you know I would never do that to you. But if you need to believe it to preserve your innocence, go ahead. Dean directed his thoughts at her, but didn't voice them. It would ruin the atmosphere. He loosened the tie around his neck.

'This is...This is... rape...' Chelsea's accusation was less than persuasive. And that's what gets you off isn't it? Dean thought of the porn subs he knew she subscribed to. He scoffed and smirked. You like to play this innocent, submissive role... Lucky for you I'm more than happy to play along...

Dean relaxed his grip on her wrists as he wound his tie around them, binding them firmly in place and freeing both of his hands. when he finished, he planted a gentle kiss on the back of her hand. 'We'll see.' He promised her. With her arms bound, he shuffled back off her. He stood back and admired the view for a moment. Her legs spread wide, bent at the waist so her body was on the mattress. It left her arse hanging off the edge of the bed slightly awkwardly, protruding. He could see the outline of her panties through the thin fabric of her dress, and her biceps straining slightly in the unnatural position.

'Beautiful' He commented, unbuttoning his shirt. He was starting to feel the heat in the room. Not once did he take his eyes off Chelsea. She had moved her head slightly, so she was looking at him too. He flung the shirt off his shoulders and tossed it, and he could feel the cool air on his bare chest. She could get up and run. She could say something. She's not though. Is she as horny as I am? The swelling in his groin bulged at his pants.

'On your knees,' He spoke the words softly, but maintained the domineering tone. He saw Chelsea's eyes flick back up to his face, having just been on his body. Was she... checking me out? 'Now. Slide off the bed and get on your knees.' He elaborated.

Chelsea moved agonisingly slow. Her movements were jerky and uncertain. Dean watched as she pulled her feet together, resting her weight on them and then slithering off the edge of the bed to fold into a kneeling position. Dean took a moment to adjust his trunks, his erection beginning to become uncomfortable. Shit, she's actually doing what I say. Fuck yeah. Dean had hoped she would, but not truly believed it before now. He approached the woman at the foot of his bed as she faced away from him, seeming to be captivated by the threads on the bed base. But she's still full of hesitation. I need to show her her place in this. Dean snaked his hand around her ponytail then closed his fist around a handful of her hair. He yanked it downwards, forcing her face up. Her neck was exposed, and Dean saw the muscles in it move as she gasped in surprise. Unh, she is made for this. He leaned in closer, taking in her scent. Sweat mixed with sweet chocolate. The dessert she had at the restaurant. Dean lifted his mouth to her ear. He let his lips touch her lobe as he spoke. He didn't want to take any chance that she wouldn't hear him. 'Do not. Hesitate. Again.' Each word was stressed. He saw her pulse in her neck. So vulnerable right now. She's putting so much trust in me. Why isn't she stopping me? Ah, but I know why. I know why Chelsea. Dean thought of the various pornographic gifs Chelsea had upvoted. You want what I can do to you. And you want me to take it.

Still maintaining his grip on her hair, he brought his other hand up to her jaw. See how exposed you are right now Chels? Dean skimmed a finger downwards, over her bare throat, down her neck, past her sternum. She's breathing so hard. He pulled her dress out from her skin just enough to take a modest peek at her cleavage. It had been tempting him all night, the shape of Chelsea's breasts outlined by the form-fitting clothes. But modest little Chelsea wasn't flaunting it at all. Dean thought she was probably oblivious to how appealing she was. Now he watched a moment, the rise and fall of Chelsea's bosom. He knew he was torturing her. Knew she must be going insane imagining all the things he might have in mind. Reluctantly, Dean let the fabric fall back into place.