Beats

"On your knees bitch."

"Excuse me?" She'd just gotten home from running some errands, and she knew she had a date with her honey, but she didn't expect him until --

His foot caught her behind her knees, which buckled, throwing her forward. He loomed large above her.

"Do I have to tell you everything twice, you worthless cunt?" One of his big hands gripped her hair and shoved her face into the pile of the carpet beneath her. "How many times did I tell you to vacuum? Stupid slut. What fucking good are you?"

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They'd met in a yoga class. She remembered thinking at the time how novel it was to find a straight guy at yoga. It was his first time, and he was so cute trying to follow along she just had to help him. They'd ended up whispering to each other all through class, and he offered to buy her lunch for being so kind.

It was hardly what she would normally have considered a date... They were both sweaty and gross, and the diner around the corner from the gym didn't exactly have what you'd call "ambiance." But that didn't stop him from pulling out her chair for her, or standing when she got up to go to the bathroom. With most guys that could have been weird, or at best a little uncomfortable. But he somehow made it seem... sweet.

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"I asked you a question, bitch!"

She tried to say something, but her mouth was pressed into the carpet, so all that came out was a murmur. The hand in her hair jerked her head back, while the other withdrew; open, cupped slightly, poised to strike.

"Twice!" she yelped.

"What?" His hand still cocked, he held her head just far enough back that she couldn't quite get her balance.

"Twice. You asked me to vacuum twice."

"That's right" he hissed, quiet and low. "And what did I say was going to happen the next time you were this careless?

"You said..." Her breath caught in her throat, as a chill went through her. "You said I'd regret it."

"That's right." It was barely a whisper, his lips so close to her ear she could feel his breath. After a long moment, he shoved her head forward and stepped back, removing his wide leather belt. He doubled it over itself hand hefted it for weight. "Now take off your pants."

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She'd had guys listen to her before. She was pretty sure some of them were even paying attention. But this guy... He didn't just send flowers, he sent the tiger lilies she loved so when they were in season, and bouquets in her favorite colors when they weren't. And, more often than not, for no reason whatsoever. He'd not only figured out which was her favorite flavor of Ben and Jerry's, but noticed that she always craved it when her period was starting. So he kept track of that too, and there always seemed to be a pint in the freezer when she went looking for it.

He took her dancing. She didn't think it was his favorite thing in the world, but he pretended for her. He gave her gifts out of gum ball machines, and sent her on scavenger hunts. Once he hid post-it notes all over her apartment. Hundreds of them, with messages of love and silliness (and more than a touch of the naughty...) Months later she was still finding them.

Even his nightstand was well thought out and considerate. There was always a clean t-shirt, a fluffy towel, a candle, a box of tissues, and all the necessary... safety devices. And (after the first time he stayed at her place) there was even a bottle of the lube she preferred. And when he went down on her...

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"NOW, you fucking whore!"

Her hands shook so badly that it took her 3 tries to get her pants undone. She moved faster once he slammed his belt the chair with a whip-crack.

"Keep going," he snarled.

"Please..." she implored, looking him in the eye for the first time. Her voice failed as pain exploded across her thigh. His belt drew back even quicker than it had lashed out.

"The time for begging will come. Now get that ass bare and bent over the couch, or it will go badly for you."

Despite the sudden chill, a drop of sweat rolled down her brow and onto the carpet as slid her undies over one ankle then the other. She knew to keep her face down as she laid her torso over the upholstered arm of the couch. It was just high enough she couldn't kneel, but too low to keep her legs straight either. As a result, all her weight was on her chest, her ass stuck into the air, her legs splayed lewdly beneath her. Her whole body tensed as she waited for the blows she knew would come.

"Now ask for it." The command in his voice was as clear as the hunger.

"What?" She thought she knew what was coming, but...

"Ask me for it. Ask for the belt."

"Please?" Her confusion was clear even through the tremor in her voice.

"You can do better than that." The steel in his voice was more responsible for her chills than the air over skin.

"Please punish me. I... I deserve it."

"You want me to spank your pretty ass?"

"Yes. Yes please."

"WRONG! You're a scrawny ugly tramp, and you don't even deserve good leather. Say it!"

"I..." Her breath caught, and it took her several tries to get the words out. I'm ugly and scrawny and worthless and... and don't even deserve to be punished."

The belt whistled through the air and landed with a crack that nearly lifted her from the couch.

"WELL?'

"A..." She choked back tears. "Again?

"Hmm... Perhaps. But I think you're still overdressed..." She felt cold steel against her neck, and the scream of ripping fabric and the rush of cool air across her back told her that her shirt and bra had been cut away.

"Please..."

The belt struck, and she choked back a sob. "Again." This time she couldn't hold back, and her scream filled the air.

"Oh dear, we can't have that..." he said with a wry edge to his voice. Suddenly her mouth, still open from her scream, was stuffed full of fabric. She had only just realized that it was her own panties when the belt landed again.

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She'd never had a lover quite like him before. It wasn't just that he was gentle and considerate. He was... thoughtful. He didn't mind giving her home-bed-advantage when she wanted it, or taking her on his kitchen table when she needed it. He would ask her about what she liked and talk about what he enjoyed. As they lay together afterwards, he would check in to see how she was doing, how she was feeling, if there was anything he could do differently next time. And he held her not like he thought she wanted him to, but like he needed to.

To say that he was attentive would fall somewhat short of the mark. He paid such close attention to every breath, every gasp, every twitch and arch the he knew she was about to come before she did. And her could hold her there, right on the edge, for what seemed like hours. He seemed to know right when teasing was about to become torment, when pleasure was about to become pain...

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As the belt landed again and again, she found herself leaning back into it a little. She could feel the welts rising already, but she could also feel something else. She was getting... hell she WAS soaking wet.

Her eyes clenched shut, her teeth grinding on the cotton that filled her mouth; she waited for the next blow... that never came.

"That's enough of that. On your back, cunt."

She opened her eyes again, trying to find reason from the place she'd gone. Apparently she didn't move fast enough for his liking, as strong hands on her shoulders flipped her to the carpet. Before she'd regained her equilibrium, she felt his belt around her wrists. Looking up, she saw them bound and, following the broad strip of leather, tied to the leg of the couch. She was stretched out; her wrists above her, her ankles spread slightly, and nothing but soft thick carpet and cool air against her skin.

"Now then. What to do with your worthless ass.... Maybe I should leave you here. Maybe I should set up the web cam. I've seen the way the guys next door look at you, maybe I should invite them in?" He sneered. "Hell, I might just give you to their dog. Your filthy cunt isn't even fit for human consumption."

Something that might have been words tried to fight their way through the makeshift gag. He tore the panties from her mouth and demanded "What was that bitch? I don't remember giving you permission to speak."

"No..."

"No what?" his tone making very clear the danger she was courting.

"No, please don't give me to the neighbors."

His hand flew, smacking her breast. Fingers spread, it stung like needles. Her back arched and again her scream filled the room.

"How DARE you! How dare you contradict me?" He slapped her hip. "I'll do with you whatever I want." He struck her thigh. "I'll cut you if I want to." Her vision exploded as his hand connected with her cheek just below the eye. "I could sell you into slavery and there wouldn't be a god damn thing you could do about it, would there?"

"No." It was barely a whisper.

He slapped her again, her face recoiling from the blow. "No what?"

"No, master."

"Better" he murmured, kneeling over her. "Better." His hand caressed her face, the skin of her neck and shoulder. "I might even deign to fuck you." He stroked her hair, and then gripping it, jerked back savagely. "Of course, you'll have to earn it..."

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It all started so simply, almost innocently. She was curious, and he was willing. Naughty texts, wicked emails, and long luxurious phone calls explored fantasies, discussed kinks, revealed needs they'd never spoken aloud before. He took great delight in carrying on detailed conversations while they had sex. They'd discuss the philosophy and psychology of eroticism while he moved inside of her, each trying to make the other loose coherence first.

This gave way to little games: She'd wear skirts to movies and plays and he'd try to get her off without the rest of the audience noticing. He'd go down on her while she was on the phone with friends from home. If she could keep her voice from breaking, it'd be his turn. They'd excuse themselves from the table for a quickie in the bathroom and try to be back before the waiter started to suspect them of skipping the check. They'd pull their bathing suits aside and slowly, carefully make love in the ocean, shoulder deep in the rolling water, dozens of other bathers only feet from them.

From there, he started giving instructions. Sometimes it would come in the form of sealed envelopes with "homework assignments" in them. Things like "get yourself off in one of your classes" or "do everything in your power to tease someone at work into getting wet/hard." Sometimes she would have to take pictures of herself and send them to him. But what she liked most, what got her off the hardest was when they were alone together, and he would tell her what to do. He would command her every move, every step of the encounter, operating her like a voice programmed sex toy. When she gave up control, it took her to an incredible place. She felt like she was floating, and every sensation was passing through her...

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"Please." It came out more a moan than anything else.

"Beg for it." There was clearly hunger mixed with the steel.

"Please take me. Oh god, please..."

"You'll have to do better than that." He stood over her, stretched nude, bound, and helpless beneath him. "Be more... specific."

"Please fuck me. I want your cock inside of me. I want you to drive it into me and make me come."

"Where do you want it?" At last his clothing began to come off.

"In... In my cunt. Please fuck my cunt. I... Please."

"Show me," he hissed. She looked up, lost. He swept her ankles apart with one of his feet.

"I said show me, bitch!" She spread her knees, and could feel herself opening up before him (and she thought she was wet before...) But he just shook his head. So she lifted her hips as well.

"Now tell me how worthless you are."

"I'm useless. I'm not even worthy to be your slave. Please, please fuck my worthless cunt.

"Hmmm..." after some thought, he knelt between her spread thighs. "Your ass maybe... It's probably less nasty, and might be tight enough that I could feel something you fucking slut. But first I wan to hear you scream."

"Huh?" She looked up, perplexed.

"I said," he growled, leaning low "I want to hear you scream. Show me what fucking a cheap slut sounds like."

Her face burned red, but she knew better than to disobey. She whimpered for a moment, then gave a deep throaty moan.

"If that's the best you can do, I'm leaving" he said, and stood again. She could see his cock, pink and rigid and perfect above her. She looked imploringly at the windows, open to the warm night (as, no doubt were their neighbors') and back at him. He shook his head. She closed her eyes, bit her lip, and made her decision.

She screamed. She remembered hair pulled, nipples twisted, wax dripped, thighs slapped, and she screamed. She thought of electric sensation ripping through her and she screamed. She imagined the neighbors listening, watching, touching, and she screamed. What started as faking an orgasm got closer and closer to the real thing...

Then suddenly he was inside of her, pounding relentlessly, driving, fucking. His nails pressed into her shoulder, his mouth covered hers, swallowing her screams. Her legs wrapped around him, clutching as though to pull him deeper inside. Her breasts pressed into his chest as her back began to arch and...

And he slowed.

Her eyes flew open, this time her scream was of frustration. She bucked her hips, trying to get back to that rhythm, that beat, that force that would drive her over the edge. She was so close, just a little more...

"Not yet. You haven't earned it yet. I want to watch you squirm."

And squirm she did. When bucking her hips didn't work, she tried to roll atop him. This turned out to be impossible with her wrists still tied to the couch, so she resorted to pleading.

"Oh god, please just make me come. I'll do anything, please... oh fuck oh fuck oh FUCK ME PLEASE!"

That seemed to do it. He returned to the needy hungry cadence, riding her, fucking her, driving her ever closer to the peak... then he bit her earlobe. Hard. That one clean surge of pain pushed her over the edge. Starting from her sex and exploding outward, every muscle in her body clenched, her vision exploded into white and blue and purple, and she screamed like she had never screamed before. Her skin burned, every nerve in her body went into overload, and time stood still.

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A few moments (seconds? hours?) later when she came back to earth, her wrists were free, and he was holding her, snuggling, caressing her hair, her skin, and whispering to her.

"It's okay baby, it's alright, I've got you, I'm here, it's okay, you're safe..."

She still shook a little as she cuddled up against him. He shifted their weight and pulled a fluffy towel from beneath them.

"When did that get there?"

"You remember the rug burn that first time?"

"Oh. Yeah. Good thinking. You take such good care of me..."

"Shh..." He continued to caress her, rubbing circulation back into her wrists, soothing welts and kissing scratches. She melted under his touch, savoring.

"Hey, what's this?" Her hand closed around his cock, still hard (still sheathed in latex for that matter. when had...?) She could feel his pulse it was so rigid. "Didn't you..."

"No" she could hear the grin in his voice even with her back to him. "Not yet."

She tried to roll over to face him. "We've got to take care of that."

But he held her tight. "Shhh... relax. We've got all night." His fingertips trailed over her eyelids. "For now let's just snuggle."

"I love you."

"I love you." And for a little while, nothing else mattered.