Days Off with Lindsay - Megan Pt. 04

This is the conclusion of Megans story, for now! I hope you enjoyed. Please check out my other stories, dont forget to rate/comment, and stay tuned for the next installment of Lindsay's friends!

Chapter 11

Megan

The game changed subtly. Over the next few weeks, He always found little moments to test me, to take my blindfold off like it was a challenge, a trick to see if I would close my eyes quickly enough and keep them closed. So far I was winning, but it took every bit of strength I had to do so. Between that and the resumed torture of denial, every time I went to Reuben's I felt a bit of a high. It was like he was conditioning me to be turned on when I walked into that bar.

The same went for his apartment. He always lit these floral candles when I came over, and I began to associate the smell of cedarwood and jasmine with pleasure. One time he let me light them with my blindfold off, facing away from him. I'd light one, and he'd come up behind me and kiss my neck or my shoulder, and take the lit candle and walk away, setting it somewhere in the room, and I'd light the next one until they were all lit, and he pulled my blindfold back down over my face. That day he'd tied me up and flogged me until my skin was burning and glowing, and then sucked my clit until I was so close to the edge that I couldn't breathe... and then let me slowly die down, holding me against him as he peppered me with kisses.

Then one day, there was the hardest Thursday. The last Thursday. The Thursday that changed the game for good.

I arrived a few minutes early, like normal, but this time when I got to the door, I got a text.

Sir: Strip, including your blindfold. Kneel by the door. Keep your eyes closed. Knock twice when you're ready.

It wasn't the first time I'd ever been asked to kneel naked outside by a door, but it was the first time he'd asked me to. And at this complex? There were people around. It was a busy area. And it was cold out. The snow had started to melt outside, and it was March, barely starting to warm up, but it was still freezing cold.

Anxiously I looked around. It seemed quiet, no yelling kids or slamming of doors. The faster I do this the faster I knock, and the faster he lets me in, I thought, though I knew it wasn't necessarily true. As fast as I could, I tore my clothes off and knelt by the door, clutching my clothes and blindfold. I knocked and shut my eyes tightly, listening for movement.

I heard nothing behind the door, and nothing from the complex behind me except the tv of a neighbor. Some footsteps down the hall seemed far away. What if he made me sit out here, I wondered? Reuben had made me sit outside naked on his doorstep for hours the first time I'd come over. The memories intruded and I tried not to think about it.

"Whoa buddy. What do we have here."

A voice I didn't know invaded and shattered my concentration and my resolve, and my eyes flew open in horror. I heard footsteps approaching me and I reached my hand up to knock again on the door, only to see it fly open.

My head was downcast and all I saw were socks. Black socks.

"Hey," I heard a sharp, loud voice snap above me. "Don't touch what isn't yours!" I felt a hand on my shoulder and I scurried into the house with my things, and the door shut behind us.

"Megan are you okay?" He asked. His voice was soft and warm again, that special voice he used with me that hid his face.

I nodded and squinted my eyes shut. "Yes Sir. I'm sorry Sir."

"Why are you sorry," he whispered, putting a hand under my chin.

"I... I opened my eyes for a second," I said. My eyes watered and I felt a few tears slip out.

"Oh." I held my breath as he spoke, waiting. "Megan, considering the fact that you were just harassed by a stranger, I'm not at all mad at you." I breathed a sigh of relief. "What did you see?"

"Uh... your socks."

"You're crying about my socks?"

"No," I murmured, and his thumbs brushed against my tears. "I opened my eyes without your permission."

"Megan... open your eyes, sweetheart."

What? He had my face pointed up right at him! A rush of adrenaline burned through me and I felt my mouth pop open in surprise. "But-"

"Go head. Open."

Just a little bit, I relaxed, and then let one eye flutter open just a little, so all I could see was darkness where his face should be. A little wider, and then I opened them all the way.

He wore a mask. He wore no shirt, a pair of dark jeans and a brown leather belt, and a solid black mask that covered his whole face. I couldn't even see his lips.

I could see his chest, though. "Oh fuck," I mumbled. He was thin, lanky, and just toned enough to see a hint of muscles in his chest and stomach. He had just a thin, hot trail of dark hair starting just under his naval and disappearing into his pants. My mouth watered and I couldn't tear my eyes away from it, my fingers itching to touch it and trace it down to see where it led me.

And I'd been wrong about his tattoo; it didn't just start at his wrist and go up to his elbow, it went all the way up his shoulder and across his chest. My eyes darted all over him, not sure where to focus. I was speechless.

I was still kneeling on the floor at his feet, and he took a step closer to me and put his hand on the top of my head. I closed my eyes involuntarily.

"No, not today," He said. "Today you're leaving your eyes open."

"Really," I shivered in excitement.

"Yes. the whole time. Don't you dare close them... I want to see your eyes when I do this."

Could I get any more anxious? Ideas flooded into my head of what he might do.

"I got you something," he said, and I could hear the smile behind his mask.

"Really?" I whispered.

He reached behind me to a hook beside the door, and I heard a light clink. He reached down slightly, and connected something to the back of my collar. As he brought his hands around, he held the end of the lead in his hand.

I grinned, feeling a quick hit and buzz of the submissive high I'd been chasing for so long. God I would do anything to sink into subspace. He was giving me just a taste.

"Come on, little toy," he said, backing up a few steps and pulling me gently. Staying on my hands and knees and leaving my belongings by the door, I crawled after him, matching his pace.

In the bedroom, he pointed down at the floor and said, "Kneel. Sit." There was no camera today. He didn't need one because he could see me. He could see my eyes.

He held the end of the lead and unbuckled his belt, pulling it out quickly and folding it in half. "I'm going to beat your ass, Megan. Not because I'm disappointed with you or upset with you, because I am not. Not at all," he was kind in the way he said that, but then his voice went back to being slightly harsher. "but because, as you said, you broke a rule."

I nodded, subdued and resigned to my punishment.

"Hands on the ground. Face down. Show me that perfect little ass of yours."

I leaned forward, lifting my ass up and pressing my forehead against the ground. His belt sliced through the air quickly, and I felt two fast sharp snaps of the leather, one on each cheek. I winced and sucked air through my teeth, but withheld a scream. He was stronger than he looked and my ass was stinging. He gave me just a few seconds to recover before he did it again, and again, and again.

Just as I was about to cry, really truly cry from the pain, he tossed his belt into the corner of the room, grabbed me by the hair, and pulled me to my feet. I gasped as he pushed me against the bed. "Get on," he said, and I could hear the eagerness in his voice. Oh how I wished I could see his face after hitting me. I missed seeing a man's eyes light up and his face changed as he watched me take everything he could give. But the bulge in Sir's jeans was enough to tell me he'd definitely enjoyed beating my ass, and that was enough for me.

I dragged myself onto the bed and he unbuckled his jeans, shoving them down quickly, and then tore off his boxers and climbed onto the bed after me. My eyes went wide as he pushed me onto my back, and I tried to take everything in at once. His body, his tight, toned ass and legs, his beautiful cock.

He kept me pinned down against his bed, both of my hands held down with one of his above my head. With his other hand, he squeezed my breasts roughly, jerking them and twisting my nipples one at a time, watching my face squint and change as I gasped with the confusing shots of pleasure and pain.

"You ready to cum today, Megan? Cause I'm going to fuck you senseless."

"Oh my god yes Sir," I practically shouted. He forced my legs open and pressed his cock against my pussy, and started shoving it in as hard as he could.

It hurt, more than a little. I was fairly wet despite no foreplay, but it had been so long since anything other than a few fingers had been in there that I was tight. But my god did it feel good to truly, actually be fucked. I felt myself gush almost immediately.

"Shit, Megan," he groaned. After several thrusts, he worked himself all the way in, and he groaned, and then leaned forward, still holding my hands with one of his. His other hand went under my head and his fingers knotted into my hair, and he began to thrust hard and fast. I felt my eyes widen and roll back slightly as he fucked me, and as I got close I almost closed them out of habit.

"No you keep those pretty eyes open. You have no idea how long I've wanted to watch your adorable face while I did this." His voice was breathy and ragged, and slightly muffled from the mask. "Now be a good girl and hold back for me. Don't cum until I say." He readjusted, bending one of my knees to get himself closer to me, and grunted as he fucked me as hard as he could.

There was no way I would have been able to hold back if my eyes were closed. I stared at the ceiling, I stared at the tattoos on his shoulder, and tried to identify them. A vine. A bird. A whip. A knife. Several roses. Lot's of thorns. I stared at the small cut on his collarbone. I studied the room around me, breathing, moaning, crying. "Sir please let me cum please! Fuck I need to cum, please!"

He pulled back out of me, put both hands on my hips, and held me tight as he rolled onto his back, angling my hips and sliding me down on his cock. I groaned as I felt him fill me up, my insides twitching and clenching, desperate for release.

"Look straight ahead, Megan. Do you see it?" I tore my gaze away from his body and looked straight ahead of me. "Straight ahead, and a little up."

Slightly above eye level, tied to his wrought iron bed frame with a red ribbon was a small lock in the shape of a heart. It was black, like the chain in my collar. That's the lock, I thought. That's the lock for my collar. He said he'd make me earn it.

"Keep your eyes on that lock, love. Don't look away. Can you do that?"

"Yes Sir! I can!"

"Are you sure?" he started slowly moving under me, thrusting his hips just subtly enough that his cock was massaging my g spot. My eyes widened and I sighed in pleasure.

"Yes Sir!"

"I know you can," he said, and I felt him let go of my hips. A moment later, his hands appeared, and he was holding the mask he'd been wearing, and he draped it over the bedframe next to the lock.

"No," I gasped, and fought the urge to look down. Oh my god he's right there. Unmasked. Not hiding. My sir.

"Do as I say, Megan. I believe in you. You can do it." He held my hips as he thrust into me, rocking my hips against him as he did so. "I know you can do it. You're strong. You're strong enough to give me this, aren't you."

I was falling. Out of nowhere, I was falling, and then I was floating. There was something about the impossibility of the task, the sheer importance of it, and the way he was speaking to me that made me plummet right down into that invisible place. My brain shut off, everything buzzed pleasantly, and I sighed in relief as he fucked me raw, my eyes never leaving the lock tied to the looping metal in front of me. I felt it all, every thrust, every grip of his hands, every twitch of his cock inside me, the burst of hot cum when he exploded inside.

I felt as he slowed, and then stopped, sighing, and running his hands over my tummy and breasts. He leaned forwards to kiss my stomach, and then his hands went up, lightly pulling my eyelids closed in a wordless order. He hugged me against him, and kissed me, tenderly and roughly, and I floated down, and down, and down.

Somehow I ended up on my side, my blindfold back on, and I came back to myself, the buzz of subspace slowly dissipating away until I was back in my body again. He was tracing the curve of my hip, his fingers following it down to the edge of the rose tattoo on my inner thigh, and then back up again.

"How do you feel, love?"

I sighed, unable to speak, but finally settled on one word. "Happy," I mumbled. He nibbled at my ear. I felt the roughness of stubble on my neck, and his soft hair brush the side of my cheek.

"I finally got you there," he whispered. "Didn't I?"

I nodded.

"I figured an impossible task would be the thing to do it."

I grinned.

"Megan... God you have willpower like nobody I've ever met, you know that? I thought you'd fail months ago. Hell, we've been at this almost a year. I knew you were strong but... I'm so impressed. I love this about you."

"I love you too," I mumbled, not really thinking about what I was saying.

He was quiet for a moment. "Do you?"

"I think so," I said softly. "I feel like I only know half of you, though. I want to know the other half."

He was quiet for a long time, just holding me against him, before he sat up, and I heard him untying the ribbon behind us. A click, a snap, the turning of a key in a lock. He pulled me up to sit, my back against his chest, and then snapped the little heart lock onto the back of my collar, locking it shut.

"I'm keeping you," he whispered. "I'm not letting you go. You'll get the other half, I promise."

My heart felt so full as I felt the subtle weight of the lock hanging on my collar. "When, Sir? You know I'll wait as long as you want, but... when?"

"Saturday."

"Wait. This saturday?"

"The workshop. I'll be there. I'm going to tie you up."

My heart and stomach fluttered at the thought. Saturday at Reuben's shibari workshop, I get to meet him, to see him. To look him in the eyes. I felt a twist of nerves and I realized I was terrified. The game would fall apart after that, wouldn't it?

"I don't want this to end."

"Oh Megan. It's just beginning."

Chapter 12

Megan

"You found her?"

Reuben and I stood at the far edge of the bar, both of us holding a drink; him sweet tea, me an old fashioned. At the other end of the bar, Jack was loudly lecturing a couple about knife play and alcohol not mixing. Behind us, Noah cleaned and stocked glasses.

The lounge was busy today. Reuben was teaching a Shibari safety course starting at eight, and the room had been transformed to resemble a university lecture hall, with a raised stage in the middle, and chairs and tables lined up and filling the empty space. I had been anxiously standing by the bar talking to Jack, nervously wondering what lay in store for me today when Reuben had come in, and smiled at me.

For the first time in so long, I felt like I could look him in the eye. I didn't have the words to explain it, but something had definitely changed. He hadn't been my Dom for a long time but... now, he didn't feel like it.

We'd spent a few minutes catching up, he asked about my job and my life, and I asked about his. "You found the girl in your dream, didn't you?"

"I did, actually..." He looked at me over his tea, his face showing that subtle, almost-smile. "She popped up where I least expected her to. I should know to expect that by now."

"And how is it going?"

"Oh, she has no clue who I am yet, and we don't have a relationship at all. I'm biding my time. But she's a wild, loud, inappropriate brat, and she's going to be fun as hell."

I giggled trying to imagine Reuben Weston taming a brat... poor brat.

"And you?" he asked, setting his drink down. I finished my old fashioned and put it behind me. Silently, one of the boys took the glass and threw the ice out.

"I'm... so happy. I can't thank you enough," I said.

"I'm so glad to hear that. I know he probably isn't what you expected."

"No, not at all. I expected you to put me with a rough, demanding sadist. A hard Dom. Whips and restraints and a cage, that kind of thing. But you gave me a daddy," I laughed. "He's... he's just... fun. God it's just so much fun," I laughed. "And I feel like I barely know him."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," I thought. "We've been at this almost a year now. Ten months. And I know so little about him. But I have so much affection for him, and I trust him implicitly. And I know he trusts me," I smiled, and fingered the lock on my collar. "I just feel like I only know half of him. I want to know the rest. I want to know his favorite color, and his favorite food, and the christmas presents he got as a kid, and what he likes to do on his day off, and the movies he likes to watch, and what shit pisses him off, and where he works, and the names of his coworkers. I want to know his friends and his family, and hear the embarrassing stories that only your loved ones are willing to tell about you."

Another drink appeared at my elbow. "I love the game. It's been a ride. But I want to love him for all of him. " I turned and reached for the glass, my hand wrapping around around it, feeling the cold condensation against my fingers, and I froze.

He stood there, behind the bar, was leaning on his forearms, his hands clasped together and his sleeves rolled up to just under the elbows. I stared mutely, my eyes focused on his hands, on that cut on his right hand, and the long gash on his left, the tattoos I knew so well, of birds and vines and a moon and a knife all weaving together and traveling up his arm. Slowly, halfway confused and halfway terrified, my eyes traveled upwards. His white button-down shirt was unbuttoned at just the top, and I could see a thin chain around his neck. A small silver key hung from it. Terrified, I met his gaze.

The way he looked at me... I'll never forget it. He looked at me like I was a rose blooming in front of him. Like I was a rainbow after a hurricane. Like I was beautiful, and special, and like I might disappear if he blinked.

I blushed, and gasped a little. Those warm brown eyes met mine, his tousled brown hair messy from his long shift, his skin glowing from exertion.

Slowly, hesitantly, Noah leaned forward, and whispered.

"Hey there, pretty girl."

I was speechless. I was confused, and lost, and terrified, and thrilled, and speechless. I felt my mouth open to say something but nothing came out.

He kept my gaze as he came around the bar, and slowly approached me, standing toe to toe. I couldn't stop looking away from his face.

How had I not known? He was exactly the right height. His hands were always in front of me. I had gotten countless drinks from Noah over the past several years and yet somehow, I'd not known? How many times had our fingers brushed when I took my drink? How many times had he brought my food out to me and set it on the table, him standing just inches from me? I felt a little guilty that chemistry hadn't betrayed him.

I kept opening and closing my mouth, trying to say something, but unable to talk. He looked a little shy, almost embarrassed, as he brushed a thumb over my face, wiping away a tear I didn't know was there.

I closed my eyes.

When I did, it felt right. It felt like him. I opened my eyes and looked at his hands, my favorite hands, the hands that knew me. I looked at his face again.