Live Without Regrets Pt. 03

Editor's note: this fictional work contains scenes of completely fictional incest or fictional incest content.

*****

Hayden beamed up at him as the Earth stopped shaking. Her protector. Her big hero. All that princess bullshit she secretly loved. It was here now, towering over her as she lay in a soft bed.

"You saved my life," she said, with a knowing grin.

"Ha, ha," he said, his tone was ironic, but the smile was real. He glanced around at the room. She'd heard a crash from the closet, but nothing in the bedroom had fallen over. The moment was passed. The world was as it should be now.

She ran a hand down the back of his t-shirt. She had a few questions, "Why are you dressed?"

He looked down, still holding the pose, "I was gonna make you French toast. I was just getting started."

She smiled, "French toast sounds really good."

He shifted to get up. She didn't like that but she understood. He stood next to the bed and she noted the gym shorts that he filled out nicely, "I need to check on Tom and Rusty next door. Are you sure you're okay?"

She sat up, covering her chest with the sheet, "I'm okay," she nodded.

His eyes went up, in thought. "Um... there's clothes in the chest in the closet. Grab anything you like. I'm gonna check on them and then we should make sure your house is okay."

She nodded, "I'm sure it's fine. Go check on your friend. I'm gonna hop in the shower."

He blew her a kiss in an old-fashioned way, like something you'd expect from a married couple. Then he disappeared down the hall.

She fell back on the mattress and stared up at the ceiling, riding the rush of endorphins and adrenaline for a bit.

"Ugh... God, he's cute. Why did he have to be cute?" She cursed his face and his jawline and his tongue... my God, his tongue. She shook her head to clear her mind. She'd rushed into emotion prematurely before and been burned. But it felt so safe with Brandon. She tried to think of why he might be different as she padded towards the shower.

For starters, he wasn't a Hollywood guy. No fame, not much money... well... not compared to her anyway. He had an actual job. Stable, nerdy, trustworthy. That last was a guess, but she felt it in her bones.

She wanted to trust so badly. There was no way to be sure. That was always the point though, wasn't it? If you could be sure, it wouldn't be trust.

She started the water and heard her phone buzz. She'd left it on the bathroom counter last night. It had been running all night and she was down to 38%. She had a text from Kristen.

"Big shake just now. You ok?"

She smiled. Kristen was salt of the earth to check on her right after a quake. She shot off a quick reply.

"Got saved by a big strong man. You know how it is."

She waited a few seconds for the reply.

"Ooooh... details, girl!"

Hayden giggled and sent back a simple "Later" then hopped in the shower.

Brandon's bathroom had no traces of a feminine influence. She frowned at the lack of a good shampoo and settled for just scrubbing down with soap and water. She'd make a better job of it when she got back to her place.

When she checked under the sink and found that he didn't have a blow dryer, she started making a list. There were things she would need.

Damp hair tossed over her shoulder and a towel wrapped around her chest, she walked, barefoot, into his closet. At the back there was a chest that fit snugly between the walls. She looked around at his clothes. Nothing too surprising. Polos and a few dress pants. Some jeans. Nothing all that interesting.

But then she saw the black box on the floor.

It appeared to have fallen from one of the shelves. She saw a bare space on the top shelf and took a guess. The quake had shaken it from its perch, springing the lid open when it hit the carpet. Ordinarily a little snooping was fair game on a first date, but this felt very private. Still, she was nothing if not curious. Especially when she saw the pink silk.

She righted the box and several items fell out. There was a black leather collar. An elaborate set of connected handcuffs. She'd seen enough to know a stash of bondage gear when it was in front of her. Brandon had quite a collection. Most of it wasn't intimidating or freakish, but he clearly was into some wilder elements of BDSM.

She didn't bat an eye at the flogger or the paddle, but her eyebrows went up when she found a pair of old-fashioned mouse traps. She lifted one up and examined it. It wasn't live, but it did appear to be functional. She looked to the closet door behind her and toyed with the mechanism. Letting it snap home after a quarter-turn. It didn't make her flinch, but she did ponder how it might feel coming down on her nipple.

"Hmm... naughty boy," she said quietly, to herself.

In for a penny, she thought as she looked through the rest of the spilled contents. She found a set of butt plugs. Small, bigger, biggest. She'd been plugged once or twice and this didn't bother her. The one that had a rubber dog tail attached to it was freaky, but she'd known such things existed.

When she found the strap-on... that was enough to raise an eyebrow.

"Helloooo," she said, lifting the black phallus in its leather harness. She giggled quietly as she took note of how the straps worked. She wrapped the harness around her waist and contemplated what it'd be like to wear this for him.

"Is that what you want, Brandon?" she silently wondered. She put the harness and its imposing cock back down.

The next item caught her eye for a very different reason.

It was a small package, probably never opened, but inside there was a stainless steel cock cage.

She grinned, "Hmm... very naughty." Her giggle filled the small space and she put the box down. Next to it was what had caught her eye in the first place.

They were a pair of pink, silk boyshort panties. Much too big for her... but not too big for Brandon.

It was possible that they were from an ex. Big boys often dated big girls. But with it being with the rest of these fetish items she guessed that these had never been worn by a woman. She contemplated what his cock would look like stretching that fabric out. Her curiosity was hitting overdrive now.

"Hayden?" he said. His voice came from the doorway. She jumped, turned, and nearly dropped her towel. Instead she dropped the panties to the floor.

"Oh, God," she said, now more embarrassed for snooping than he had any right to be embarrassed about his fetishes.

"What..." he asked, stunned.

"Um... it fell. I think it was the quake. I was trying to find some clothes to wear when I found it," she turned, bit her lip, worrying that she'd crossed a line.

"That's my private stuff," he said, more than a little defensively.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I wasn't trying to..."

He held up a hand and she shut her mouth. A moment of silence passed between them. She saw him close his eyes and shiver. This was going to be hard.

"Um... what did you... see?" he asked. He couldn't look at her in this moment.

"It's none of my business," she said. She was a good enough actress to sell that line.

"That's not what I asked," he said.

"I saw... look, it's nothing to be embarrassed about," she said, trying the safest thought she had.

"It is," he said, looking down at the carpet. "I keep that stuff in the back for a reason. It's not something I'd have wanted to show you right now," he said, still looking down. He knelt and started to clean up the spilled contents.

"Brandon..." she said.

"I'm sorry. I know that's got to be weird to find this kind of stuff with a guy you spent the night with. I'll just clean this up and take you home. It's okay," he said, still unable to meet her gaze.

"No. That's not... look, you don't have to be embarrassed. I knew you liked domination. All this bondage stuff, it's fine. Some of it's a little out there, but it's all fine," she said, meaning it.

"I'm really sorry. I can call you a cab if you don't want me to drive you," he said. It was like he couldn't hear her at all.

"Brandon!" she said, grabbing his wrist as he reached for a pair of cuffs on the floor. He locked eyes with her. She saw fear and shame. This had gone beyond snooping. Accidentally or not, he was hurt.

She held his eyes with hers, "Take your pants off," she said.

"What?"

"You're freaking out because you think I'm gonna judge you. I'm not judging you. I want you to know that it's okay. Take your pants off. You're gonna tell me about all this stuff and I'm gonna stroke your cock while you do."

"What?" he repeated, suddenly far more incredulous.

"I didn't mean to go through your stuff. I shouldn't have. But now that I know, I've got questions. And I want to ask them. But I owe you for messing with your space. So... I'm gonna get answers, and you're gonna get a handjob, okay?"

He took a moment to think. She was surprised by her own words, but it somehow made sense. She wanted him to know that she still liked him. She wanted him to feel safe in his own sexuality. And she kinda wanted to see just how big a freak she'd been fucking last night. This solution might not be straight out of Miss Manners, but any actress worth her salt knew that there was always room for improvisation.

He turned, stood, and she decided to help him out. She reached for the hem of his gym shorts and lowered them. He gasped in that way she liked. She took his black boxers down and his cock sprung to life.

Yep, there's a humiliation fetish here, she thought as she took a grip on his shaft.

She sat on the floor, looking up into his eyes, "Here's the deal... you tell me the truth and I won't judge. As long as you keep talking, you get this," she said, stroking his cock slowly up and down one time to anchor the point.

He moaned. She had him now. He nodded hard.

She held up a pair of handcuffs, dangling them off a fingertip, "For you or for me?"

"I like bondage," he said, eyes fluttering, cock pulsing under her fingers.

"Clearly," she said, smirking, "But do you want to be in it, or put ME in it?"

"Mostly you," he said.

"Mostly?" she asked, pausing her stroke.

"Look, I like a lot of weird stuff. Even I don't always know what I want," he said. She could hear the honesty. She resumed her slow stroking. His groan was a nice little reward.

"And this?" she said, holding up the mousetrap.

"Oh fuck," he said, beet red from embarrassment. She paused and he whimpered and spoke, "I told you I was into domination. Sometimes that means pain," he said.

She nodded, "Have you used them before?"

He shook his head hard, "My ex said 'no way'. That was the end of it."

"Did you try them out on yourself?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded, "I'd never hurt someone without knowing how bad it could be."

Sadistic, but fair-minded. She liked that answer. She liked him. But she was also a playful little minx when she was horny. She let go of his cock and loaded the spring for the mousetrap.

"So... if I wanted to snap this down on your cock right now..." she said, letting the thought hang.

His eyes went wide, but he didn't flinch.

He stammered for a second and gripped the hanging rod, "I probably deserve it," he said, staying motionless. Bracing himself for the pain.

"No you don't," she said.

She grinned and put the trap down on the floor, away from him. It closed on the carpet harmlessly. She leaned over and kissed the head of his cock. Enjoying that flared crown on her lips. He gave her the cutest little moan. She sat back and kept stroking her man.

She didn't bother to pick it up, but she jutted her chin at the harness and cock on the floor, "The strap-on?"

"Bought it for my ex. She wasn't interested in that... then she wasn't interested in me anymore," he said.

She nodded. That had to have hurt. No wonder he was so gunshy.

"Do you want me to use it on you?" she asked.

His eyes went wide. "Um... I never actually..."

"Too scared?" she asked.

"Um... more... it was a phase. I haven't been back to it in a while. Sort of a passing thing," he said.

She nodded. Everyone has a past. Her hand moved a little faster.

"And these?" she said, holding up the pink boyshorts.

"Oh God, really?" he said, looking down at her.

She nodded and paused midstroke. He whimpered like a good little sissy.

"Fuck! Um... my ex... she did this thing where she liked me to rub against her panties as I went in and out. Nnnnnn, fuck!" he groaned, fighting the pleasure, "I got curious after she dumped me."

"Have you worn these?" she asked.

He nodded. She didn't make him say it out loud.

"Do you still wear them?"

He shook his head, "Not for a long time."

She held up the cock cage, still in it's box, "Another failed experiment?" she asked.

"Just an idea. I was trying anything to get her interested again. I thought if she was in charge, she might want to do more."

Hayden nodded, "You were gonna trade power for sex?"

He nodded hard, "I would have traded ANYTHING for sex at that point. I was ready to beg."

"I won't make you do that," she said.

For most of her life Hayden had used her body to control the men in her life. Except for Vlad, they'd all been bad men who had deserved it. They'd deserved much worse. To use sex to shame a good boy like Brandon made her angry. He didn't deserve that.

She was going to be his next girlfriend. She was resolved to be nothing like the ones that had come before.

He looked down at her, not quite understanding what she was promising. She found his eyes and got on her knees in front of him. Her hand kept stroking him firmly.

"Brandon... you don't have to feel bad about this. I like you. I'll never make you beg."

He smiled, despite himself, "Then what are we doing now?" he said, looking down at her hand.

She smiled back, sharing this naughty intimacy, "Are you ready?" she asked, knowing the answer.

He nodded hard.

She pushed the towel off her chest and gave him a nice target. She found her breathy voice and purred up at him.

"Come for me," she said.

He needed nothing more. The moment was so charged with panic and pleasure that his orgasm hit hard. She saw his toes splay. Saw him go up on the balls of his feet as he pulsed. Again he came in thick ropes. She caught them across her chest and felt satisfied with how the morning was going so far. She smiled and pulled him through a hard orgasm and a few aftershocks. He nearly collapsed as the wave came down. She watched him return to reality.

"That..." he stammered.

She giggled as he lost the ability to form words again. She decided to help out, "... ruined a perfectly good shower," she said, wiping off his come with her borrowed towel.

She patted the firm cheeks of his ass and realized there was another feature of his to appreciate. She smiled and steadied him with a hand.

"You still owe me French toast. I'm gonna clean up AGAIN and then steal some of your clothes. Then we're gonna go to my place."

He was rational now, "Are you worried about quake damage?" he asked.

"Not really. But I do have some things I want you to look at," she said.

"Yeah?" he asked.

She grinned, "Did you think you we're the only one with a sex box?"

When she came out of the bathroom, he'd laid out clothes for her. She liked that. It made her feel cozy and cared for. She felt the soft white cotton of a shirt that clearly had a lot of miles on it. The red lettering said NC STATE and she nodded, remembering his talks from last night.

He'd folded her dress and underwear, (not the right way, but what do you expect from a boy with no sisters) and put them on a pile at the edge of the bed. She slipped the t-shirt on and the gym shorts he'd left for her. Everything was too big, but it was also warm and comfy. She pulled the drawstring tight and left her panties where he'd placed them.

Hayden yawned and stretched as she padded into the kitchen. His French toast was on the table already. She inhaled and gave a contented moan. It had been so long since someone had made her breakfast.

She might be falling for this guy, but she reserved the right to be kittenish. So, as she took her seat, she decided to paw at her new toy.

"Not sure how I feel about wearing a State shirt," she said, sliding into her chair across from him.

"What do you mean?" he asked, handing her a fork.

"My family is a Duke family," she said.

He smirked over the table at her, "I knew I smelled sulfur."

She smirked right back, "Sulfur?"

He waved a hand around, "Smell of sulfur in the air. Walking around in boat shoes. Dogs and cats living together. These are the signs you've let a Duke person into your house."

She laughed, "They teach you that before or after the farming, State boy?"

"Oooh, low blow. Duke is for rich Yankee kids that couldn't get in to a proper Ivy school. Carolina is where you go if you want to make a lot of money without really doing anything. State is for people who want to actually get stuff done."

She smiled and bit into her toast. Her Cheshire cat grin broke through his little spiel. She laughed seeing him get all puffed up with school spirit.

"Okay, that was adorable," she said, saving him from overthinking it. Then, just to twist the knife, "Seriously... did they teach you that before or after farming 101?"

He laughed and waved a hand past his face, "Duke people... ugh. Get out of my house," he said, casually.

She held up her fork, "Not 'til I'm done with this. You cook a good breakfast." Her compliment ended the game. She ran the instep of her foot against his leg. She saw him flinch and felt a little charge of power.

It would have been cruel to toy with him too much. She considered it, but moved on. He'd made bacon to go with the toast and she found it just to her liking. She thought about what it'd be like to eat this meal every weekend for the rest of her life. She didn't hate the idea.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked.

"Is it about my box of shame?" he said.

"No... and don't call it that," she said.

"Fire away," he said.

"You can cook, you've got a decent job, and an above-average cock. Why are you still single?"

"You found my secrets. I'm a dirty little freak," he said, with a self-deprecating tone.

"Nah, that's not it. You don't show that to girls. You don't... you don't bring girls back here at all, do you?" she said, realizing it as she spoke.

"You're the first," he said, not able to meet her eyes.

"All your exes are back in North Carolina?"

He nodded.

"And they ruined you?"

He blushed and tried to laugh it off, "Um, no. Just... you know... someone you love stops loving you. It makes you question why. And after a while, you're questioning that so much that you aren't really sure that you're worth it."

She pushed into his thought, "You are."

He tilted his head and looked at her curious, "You sure about that? You just met me a few days ago."

She nodded, full of resolve, "I'm sure about that."

"Why?"

"Because I took that journey too," Hayden said.

He paused. A moment passed where they looked into each other and saw themselves.

"Sometimes, it's not that you shut yourself off. Sometimes it's that you go out and find someone else to love. Someone who will treat you... who will mistreat you... the way you think you deserve. And it takes a police officer to tell you that what he's doing to you is wrong."

Brandon put a hand over his mouth. The look he gave her was pure empathy. It was hard for her to recognize it on a man's face, but she remembered after a beat.

"Brandon... a lot of men have done a lot of bad things to me. If you're gonna be my boyfriend, I don't want you thinking of me as a porcelain doll."

He was still too stunned to speak. It was just as well. She only needed him to listen.

"I know what it's like to feel like you deserve bad things. I'm trying to get out of that mindset, but it's hard because..."