His Ch. 03

***Warning: mentions of bathroom stuff (you know what I mean) and a little bit of non-con (but not enough to warrant the tag or being in that section in my opinion***

"Callie, I..." Eric stares at me. He is speechless as tears fall down my flushed cheeks.

I am humiliated, sitting in a puddle of my own urine. As if he couldn't control himself, Eric became his dominant controlling self. He took away the small amount of freedom I am allowed.

He tries to reach for me, but I swat his hand away. Shock settles across his face. I'm not just upset because he treated me this way on Sunday, I'm mad because he treated me this way.

I push myself up, failing in my attempt to avoid my 'puddle'. Eric tries to help but I want none of it.

"You," I stab my finger against the hard surface of his chest. "Are cleaning this mess!" My other hand motions to the wet floor. I turn and briskly stomp away.

I slam the bedroom door and furiously make way to the bathroom. I am mumbling to myself while I run a shower. The hot water hits my skin like rain.

Thirty minutes, a lot of soap and a lot more cursing later, I am sat on my dressing chair. I fluff my hair within a towel in a feeble attempt at drying it. I catch my reflection in the large vanity mirror.

Did I bring this on myself? Should I expect embarrassment? For someone like me to be with someone like Eric should only mean that I am treated unfairly. The universe has to have those checks and balances. Right?

Thoughts race through my mind. Do I want this; the constant reminders that I am second rate in our relationship? Is our relationship anything more than my submissive willingness? Does Eric see me, Callie the semi-successful author -- or does he see a reflection of his own power?

Tears are in my eyes again so I pull a tissue and wipe my eyes. I feel gross for letting what was once a small hypothetical fantasy turn into my lifestyle. I have to leave.

I stand up. My clothes are already sitting on the vanity, I pull them on quickly. I move back into the bedroom and reach the suitcase on the top shelf of the closet. It nearly falls on me, but I manage to land it on the floor.

I turn to lay the luggage on the bed, but I scream. Eric is sitting in his oversized, brown leather smoking chair. His leg is crossed over the other and his pants are back on though he is still shirtless.

"What are you doing Cal?" He turns his head like a confused dog. I keep moving as if I knew he had always been there.

"Packing," I say simply. I start with my underwear drawer, throwing handfulls of sexy undergarments Eric bought me into the suitcase.

Eric stands and crosses the room to me. My heart is racing, though I am trying to stay demure.

"Where are you going?" He asks casually.

I shrug, "Maybe to see my parents." It's bullshit, and he knows it.

"Your parents? How are they?" He asks, digging into my lie.

"I'm just leaving, okay?" I raise my voice for the first time in such a long time that it sounds wrong to me. I am resisting the urge to apologize.

Eric doesn't respond. He is looking at me, something going on in his head. I keep packing like he isn't even there.

"I'm sorry Cal," he groans. I whip around to really give it to him, but he is already walking away. I shrug and return to my packing.

I pull the last drawer open, surprised to see some of our old sex toys. As a matter of fact, they're the first toys we bought together. I pick up each toy thoughtfully.

A few cock rings. A set of beginner butt plugs. Nipple clamps -- chain twisted beyond repair and one of the clamps refusing to, well, clamp. And a pair of forceps. I remember, almost to the second, the first orgasms I had with each of these.

I twist the forceps around in my hand. I remember Eric being too nervous to ask sex shops if they had a medical section, so he drove two hours to a medical equipment supplier. Eric had to slip the guy twenty extra bucks to sell him the forceps under the table.

Eric spent the next two weeks worrying that some medical police would show up and question us. That feels like so long ago now. We were both extremely youthful and naive. Eric was still only a junior attorney, now he's a full share partner at the firm. Ten days after his promotion, he bought me the house.

Now, it isn't just my house, it's ours. But, it's more than either of us have ever had. With the job and the house came a sense of privilege. I am able to focus on my writing career; if you can call ghost writing for wildly famous names and faces a career. We delved deeper into our selves just because we could.

That's how it started. Early on, Eric had to learn how to be my dom. I don't like being screamed at or being shared. I do enjoy a firm hand, even being slapped across the face puts me in heat. Eric had to learn all of the nuances of being my perfect master as to keep me, his pet, from running off.

I am sitting on the edge of the bed, my suitcase inches away. My brain is in english major mode now. We never stop learning, ever. Who am I to treat Eric as if he is only allowed one mistake. Was it even a mistake?

He brought me pleasure. After I had done the same for him. Arguably, he was mimicking my performance.

I cannot leave, not over this.

I get up and head downstairs. Eric's head is rested on the arm of the sofa, his soft snores fill the space. I can't help but smile.

I quietly tiptoe around the couch, pulling an item of clothing off as I go. I don't stop until I'm naked. Eric is thankfully a heavy sleeper, especially after he cums. I'm just praying this works.

Just as he starts to roll to his back, I grip his pajama bottoms and pull them down for the second time today. He swats at his leg as if he thinks there's something there.

All I see is his drooping penis at just over four inches soft. I'm not exactly turned on yet, but I know what I want to do.

I gingerly throw one leg over Eric, I'm struggling to balance on one foot. But I stick the landing so I prop my other leg on this side of him. Now straddling him, I start to lower my hips. I need to both get him hard and get myself wet.

My fuzzy lips make contact, Eric shifts under me but is still unaware that I have him pinned. I press down, my lips part and offer a warm valley for his flaccid member. A small noise comes from his parted lips, I wonder if he thinks it's just a wet dream?

Regardless, I proceed by swaying my hips forward then back. I repeat my movements over and over. Eric's breath catches in his throat and his eyes flutter open, the sensation all too real to stay asleep.

"C-Cal? What..?" His hands fly up in an 'I'm innocent' fashion.

I put my finger to his lips, "Shhh."

I never ride, it's one of my rules. I'm not particularly thin, so imagining myself and my soft belly being the star of the show is terrifying. But, just an hour or so ago I told Eric I was leaving him. So maybe I owe him this.

I push down every time I bring my hips back and forth, swaying in a crescent moon shape. He moans under me, eyes glued to my body. My core is already tired, but I feel my wetness glazing his shaft. Now.

I lift myself just until I feel his cock poke me. I close my eyes and center myself, take a deep breath, and then I drop my weight. I almost fall forward at the feeling of being impaled so suddenly, but I catch myself on Eric's shoulders. He holds my hips steady to help me balance, I am grateful.

Seconds pass as I adjust to being filled from this angle. Eric is looking me up and down.

"I'm sorry," I groan. "I overreacted."

He laughs, "I like the way you apologize." His smile fades, "I'm the one who should be sorry Callie. Your body just mesmerizes me." I feel tears in my eyes.

"Eric, I love you so much." I lean in and kiss him, he pulls me down so we're smashed together. His strong arms hold me tight. My hips start moving again slowly. Eric matches my pace.

My moans fill his mouth as his cock fills me. The couch creaks under us, but we aren't concerned.

I lift my butt and push my hips down in a sawing motion, trying to maximize the feeling for Eric. It seems to work since he is digging his nails into my back as if to pull me closer. We aren't fucking. No, we are making love. Neither of us lead the show.

I feel myself speeding up, Eric is matching my movements to stay locked in me. The sound of our skin slapping together fills my ears, accompanied by Eric and I echoing "I love you."

I feel the familiar pressure within me, I am close. And given how Eric is lifting his hips, so is he.

I push down once more, and there it is. Eric howls like a dog and I freeze. My whole body shudders on top of his. My pussy clamps down like a vice on Eric's cock. He feels so so big inside of me.

His cum, like liquid fire, fills me causing more pressure. Finally I fall limp in his arms. I am spent. Every muscle is in pain. Eric is still lodged within me, but he is softening.

We're panting furiously. My eyes are heavy, I am happy to sleep here.

Just as I allow myself to lose consciousness, I feel Eric kiss my ear. I smile into my sleep.

"Marry me, Cal." Is the last thing I hear before sleep takes me.

To be continued...

***A/n: I am putting all sections of this story in the BDSM section bc 1: that's the overall theme of their relationship and 2: they're dealing with power struggles that I feel like encompass what it is like being in a long term sub/dom partnership. but that's just me, if you agree or not let me know in a comment xoxo***