Live Without Regrets Pt. 03

He leaned in, "It's okay. You can say it."

"Because I actually did like being hit," she paused, never really having admitted it out loud.

He nodded, "You said last night, 'consent is everything.'"

They shared a look across the table.

He took the lead, which, in that moment, was what she needed more than anything.

"What if we just decided not to be ashamed of what we want? We just say that it's okay for us to like what we like and want what we want and we don't have to feel bad about it."

She nodded, "I think I'd like to try that."

He reached a hand across the table. She held on to it like it was her tether to the Earth.

"Okay," he said.

She felt warmth. In her hand and in her core. She shivered, adjusting to this new temperature. It felt so safe. The white cotton draped her shoulders and she could smell his scent on the fabric. She squeezed his hand and found his eyes.

"Did you like this shirt?" she asked, looking down at the material.

"That old thing? Yeah, sure. I've worn it for three bowl games. One of my favorites," he said.

"Aww... that's a shame, because you're never getting it back," she grinned.

"Go State," he said quietly.

The drive over to her house was a daydream. He put on good music and they sang and laughed and enjoyed the California sunshine. It was a perfect morning, apart from the earthquake that had started it.

In her head, the little voice that had taken on the same cadence as her therapist was telling her that this was just love-goggles. She was falling for this guy too fast and it was making her sloppy. She shut that little voice down a few times before it finally shut up.

This is different. He is different. And it's that difference that will save me.

Brandon played it cool when he got his first look at the house. She'd seen guys goggle over her mansion, but truthfully, it wasn't even the most impressive house on the street.

She'd seen guys who were only after her for her money, every celebrity had encounters like that. Brandon was impressed, but in the right ways. She hadn't been worried, but it was nice to know for sure.

She showed him around. It was too cold to swim in the pool, but when the weather changed, she knew he'd enjoy that. The back yard had the privacy fence and a view of the water. It was a great spot to be fucked, she knew from personal experience. There was time for that later.

She took him through her bedroom with its big California King. He was smart enough to get the idea without being told. The journey into her walk-in closet mirrored the moment they'd had this morning.

She let him browse a bit. He noted the cheerleading uniforms from her earlier work (she always kept her best costumes). She gave him a grin that told him, yes, she was still willing to wear them, under the right circumstances. He wasn't the first guy to want to fuck her in-character. She found herself hoping he'd be the last. In all the best ways.

She had tried not to make a big thing of the large garment bag at the back of the closet, but the black bag was so big that it was hard to notice. She thought about saying something enigmatic, but when he asked, she wanted to be honest. That was the point of all this.

She squared up to him, with her back to the bag and answered.

"It's my wedding dress. Vlad didn't want to go ahead, but I'd already bought the dress," she said.

He nodded, giving her the space to speak.

"It felt wrong to get rid of it, but it's also just taking up space. I'll have to figure something out eventually."

He put up his hands and spread them slowly. He really wasn't judging, but neither had a clue what to say at this point.

She sighed and changed the subject, "So... I invaded your privacy this morning. I didn't mean to, but it happened. And I believe in fairness. So... sit down."

He sat on the floor and tucked his feet under his knees. She pulled out a small stepladder and used it to reach a box on the highest shelf. She brought it down. It was black, with a pink ribbon and a metal clasp. She sat on the floor with the box between them.

He looked at it like it might melt his face off. She could understand. In his eyes, there was every chance she was a freak. And either way, this was a lot to take very quickly. She'd had relationships like that before, but never with a guy this mature.

She reached for the clasp and found his eyes, "Whatever you see in here... it's just for the two of us, okay?"

He nodded, "Of course, absolutely."

She opened the lid and revealed her sexual treasures within.

There were a fair bit of bondage gear. She had high-quality stuff just like he had. He pulled out a pair of silver handcuffs and held them up. She explained.

"Vlad liked power and control and things like that. And I like to be the little dream girl princess getting fucked by the big strong man," she said, unashamed of that feeling.

"I get that," he replied. "That sounds pretty fun to me, actually."

She nodded and moved to the next item. A black leather collar with BITCH in gleaming silver letters.

He held it up and she nodded, "All the stuff you're thinking... yeah."

He nodded again, looking deeper.

She brought out a pair of ballet heels and clucked her cheek. He took the bait.

"Not a good memory?" he asked.

"Nearly broke my ankle trying to strut for him. I'd seen that Beyonce thing and I wanted to do the dance. I almost put myself in the hospital," she gave a wry laugh at the memory.

"But you kept the shoes?" he asked.

"And kept practicing," she said, with a wink.

He smiled big at the thought.

He found the gold bikini, classic Princess Leia. His eyes went wide. She held it up for him over her chest.

"Help me, Obi Wan Kenobi..." she said with a giggle.

"You... you..."

"I like Star Wars AND sex. It's not that uncommon. And Vlad liked me to be a little slave girl sometimes. You should see me serve dinner in that," she said. Her grin knocked him out and he blushed in the cutest way.

She laughed at his expense, "Oh buddy, we haven't even gotten to the good stuff," she said.

"Hit me," he said, looking back in the box.

She brought out a stainless steel cock cage, like the one he'd shown her a couple of hours ago.

He stammered, staring at the device.

She spoke like she was describing a trip to the post office. "Sometimes when you date a boxer, he's got to train for a big fight... and they like to stay celebate while they train. Because when you get into the ring on fight night and you haven't had sex in weeks, you're pissed off and ready to kill someone."

He nodded, entranced by the little tableau happening in front of him.

"So... to make sure your boxer is on his best behavior..." she nodded to the cage. Then she put it down and scrolled through her phone. She turned the screen so Brandon could see. The image was a press photo of her sitting ringside at a fight in Europe several years ago.

"Can you see the necklace?" she asked.

He shook his head. She zoomed in on her cleavage. When she turned the phone back, he could see a silver key dangling in her décolletage.

She smirked, "He won that fight... and then I unlocked him and he fucked me like a wild animal," she let the facts wash over him, then went in for the kill.

"And nine months later, a baby fell out of me."

He was back in the headlights again and she thought it was priceless.

His words came back in a stammer.

"Tha.... That's a lot to live up to," he said.

She waved off his concern, "I don't contrast and compare. Either way, Vlad and I are done. You don't ever have to worry about that."

"He scorned you?" Brandon asked.

"Hell hath no fury," she replied.

That seemed to satisfy his fear. He looked back in the box and found one small item tucked away in the corner.

She pulled out the small, velvet ring box. She handed it to him. Inside there was a simple gold band with a petite diamond. He was confused.

"It's my purity ring," she said.

"I don't..." he started.

"Fathers give them to daughters, usually teenagers. It's a thing to say that they'll stay pure until marriage. It's outdated and a bit insulting when you think about it. But I didn't realize that when Daddy gave that to me," she said.

He nodded, not quite sure what to say. She took the ring from the box and put it on her finger.

"He gave it to me when I was 13. I wore it every day until he deflowered me."

Brandon's look of shock came back. She knew from that look he'd never breathe a word of this. It was all he could do not to let out an unmanly sound of horror.

"After I turned 18, I had my breasts done. I think that was just a little too much for him to handle. I mean, I look a LOT like my mother. A few weeks after the surgery he came to me. It was a Friday night," she paused, returning to the moment in her mind. She looked away, "I'm a Daddy's girl through and through. I didn't put up a fuss."

"Hayden... I..." Brandon started.

"It was consentual. I'm not a victim," she said.

"Are..." he started, then closed his mouth.

"It doesn't happen anymore. But if it's a dealbreaker for you, then I'd rather know now than six months in. I can't change the past, but I'm not going to apologize for it either."

He shook his head, "You don't ever have to be sorry for the things that happened to you," he said. "I hate that you've been mistreated by... my God... I mean... SO MANY times. But... none of that is your fault."

"Does it make you want to run away?" she asked, looking at him with eyes that were prepared for any answer.

"God, no. Of course not. It makes me want to wrap you in a big hug and fight off anyone who'd ever try to hurt you again."

She dropped her resolved warrior face and looked into his eyes.

"I've been waiting for someone to tell me that for a long time," she said.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he said. And then wrapped her in a tight hug.