Obsession Ch. 02

His face rested between stormily passionate and complacent and I shook away the patronizing stroke of his touch against my cheek. Nodding with a slight frown, he picked up the vibrator and placed it on the pillow next to me eliciting a whine of protest to mask my complete and total desire for it.

"How do I know, you ask? Well, it's nothing, sweetie. Just the way you react when I mistreat you. I'm just awful to you, did you notice?" he smiled and honestly, it just made me need him more. "You don't even care, the way you want to please, the way you put my satisfaction before your own. It's because I know you, I found you out, know who you are and what you need. I know you better than you know yourself." He pushed the soft fabric of my thin t-shirt up, exposing my chest. I squirmed, bare, as he took a clamp out of his pocket and fastened it onto my nipple, leaning back as I whined. He admired his handiwork as I was left to tug uselessly on my restraints. Pleased, he attached the other in similar satisfaction.

I let out a muffled groan, muting my pleasure-pain to a light whine.

"There! I own you a little bit more- your tits anyway- but what about that pussy, hmm?"

"Hmmmmphh!"

"Yes, Baby, she wants to feel me, too."

I writhed beneath him as he picked up the vibrator.

"I want you to kiss this. Suck it like it's my cock."

He pulled the gag from my mouth.

"Do it."

I groaned and took the tip of the thing between my lips. He fed it to me carefully, as though he were his own dick. I closed my eyes and sucked, flushed with shame and need. This obscenity fueled me, I delighted in it, and yet I wanted nothing more than for him to take it out as he completely violated my mouth, pushing it past willing lips and dragged it back out, my lips clinging to the plastic, my cheeks going concave,

Feeling a contempt I didn't know I was capable of holding towards inanimate objects, the vibe began to hum and vibrate as he turned on his weapon, the thing buzzing in his hand as he took it from my desperate sucking. He played the smooth instrument over my lips, down my neck, and around my areolas. He watched me squirm as he flicked one of the clamps, sending a new wave of pain through my body.

I felt a contempt I didn't know I was capable of holding towards inanimate objects, and he turned on his weapon of choice. It buzzed in his hand as he played the smooth plastic over my lips, down my neck, and on my breasts. Watching me squirm with satisfaction, he flicked one of the clamps, sending waves of pain through my body, forcing a howl behind the damned gag. He pressed it against me skin, watching my body respond as he trailed it down my stomach, around my hips and onto my pubic bone. Spreading my labia with seeming indifference, he pushed the speed to high and rubbed the vibrator in tight circles around my clit, making me gasp and jerk away from the sensation. Ignoring my slight panting he slid the instrument back and forth over my dripping cunt.
"God, Cadence, look at you."
I was stretched before him, my back arched, needy, legs stretched lewdly to accommodate to his touch.

"You want it, don't you?"

I looked up at him, desperate, my hips searching for him.

"Well, okay, if it's all the same to you . . ." he pulled away, turning it off with a shrug.

"Hmmmph! Mmmm!"

"What is it, sweetie?" His face was glowing, just lit up with lust.

I whined, writhing, the need building and tumbling upon itself, overwhelming my sense.

"So youdowant me, is that it?"
I could've cried, I needed him so desperately. I could barely see through the dull pain throbbing form my nipples, the dull need that coursed through me with every breath. I wanted him, damn it, any touch he would allow- and here he was getting off on his slow tortuous teasing. I could only respond in a pouting, defeated whine.
"There, there," he smoothed my hair back as I moaned, "I just needed to hear you say it, honey, that's all."

Bastard! My eyes would've been shut tight if his gaze over me wasn't so engaging. I couldn't look away from him as he ran a finger over my lips stretched over the gag. He hummed thoughtfully, studying me.

"I've never seen you like this before." He seemed delighted, "Maybe I should take a picture or two for when your'e off fooling around with your little vanilla boyfriend."

My eyes widened in horror and I shook my head feverishly.

"No? Well, look- I'm going to do you a big favor and take out this big nasty gag, but you have to promise to be good."

I nodded feverishly in agreement, and he worked quickly to pull it out of my mouth.

"Please! Fuck me!"

He looked down at me with surprise. "You really want this, don't you? Christ!"
"God damn it, Julian." I mewled, tugging at my cuffs.
"Be nice." He watched me with an infuriating coolness.

I pushed my hips up at him, slithering like a trapped snake, the undulation could only be described as sensuous and inviting- or so I gathered from his low moan. He needed this just as much as I did.

"I want to fuck you mouth."

I groaned, writhing on the bed, "God!"
"What are you begging for, slut? I don't know what you want." He was wearing down, I could see, His lust was inflaming him, like strong bars of metal bending under the influence of a persistent flame.
"Give me your cock! Do it! Fuck me!" I was breathless, dissolute, needy.

He moved over me, straddling my chest.

"Ask nice."
"God! Julian!"
"Do it!"
"I want your thick cock, please! Give it to me- I need you in my mouth!" I babbled, pleading, all thought taken over by this lewd act. I needed it.
"Why? Is it because you're a good girl and deserve it?"

I groaned, his cock only an inch or so from my lips, daring me, admonishing me.

"No, you're not. You're just a cock-hungry bitch, aren't you?"
I whined, looking up at him in disbelief, the words still stinging in my state of hypersexual need. If he could use me so easily, I could play the part just as well.
"I don't give a fuck, do it anyway!"
"God, Angel!"
He pressed the head to my lips and I took what he gave me, licking greedily. His fingers tangled in my hair as I tugged uselessly at the chains. He groaned, shoving more into my mouth. His member throbbed in my mouth, thick and nearly too much for me to handle.
He pumped into my mouth greedily and I wanted it. I wanted to choke around him, my air cut off, his world, his body, his cock defining me. I wanted his cum, its taste and his pleasure mine to revel in, wanted to make him growl in pleasure. I was helpless, though, lying there and moaning around him as he fucked my mouth. I gagged as he hit the back of my throat, insistently.
"God! Take it!" He seemed in a realm of his own by now, just blindly fucking my mouth, snarling. Beating into me, he pulled my hair in furious fists as his muscles seemed to tense, contracting in his strong thighs. He pulled from my mouth, exploding jets of hot white come onto my face. Shocked, I could do nothing but endure it.
"God, Cadence." He looked down at me, "Wow, baby, that was intense." He moved off of me, undoing my cuffs, pushing me back down- still a captive, "No, sweetie, stay there."
He got up and I lay there with this thick, male wetness on my face, dazed and slightly disgusted. I watched him walk, naked to his bathroom, keeping the door open. I couldn't help but admire the strength and statement of his naked body as he ran a washcloth under the tap.
Returning in boxers, he sat beside me, gesturing for me to sit up. I leaned against the headboard as he gently cleaned my face. There was a warmth to his touch that took me by surprise- it subdued me into silence. He finished up, handing me a face towel to dry off. As soon as I lowered the tough terrycloth square, he pressed his lips against me.

"Julian. . ."
"Mmm."

"I . . . "
"What?" His tone was light and teasing. "Poor baby! You didn't get any pleasure, did you? I just teased my little sub into a frenzy and left her wanting, hmm?" He kissed me with a renewed passion, almost apologetically.

I nodded, dumb.

He pulled me onto his lap as he took my place against the headboard and cupped my breasts in his hands, sending a flame of pain from the clamps straight to my pussy.

"Oh, fuck, I forgot about these." He kissed my neck conciliatorily as he slowly unscrewed them.

"Good girl." He placated my whimpering with a soft touch, light over my sore skin, "You've been so good, you know." He growled into my ear, sending his words down my spine. I couldn't help but squirm on his lap as his hand trailed up my thighs, tickling the sensitive skin. His touch grew bold quickly, though, at my whines of impatience. His rough touch made light, teasing strokes over my pussy, eliciting an appreciative sigh from me, my eyes closed. I felt the hard plastic of the vibrator he had used on me earlier on my skin and my hips automatically sought out his knowing touch. He drew it close against me until it was against my clit. Flicking it on low, he drew lazy circles around it.

"Oooh, Julian." I all but purred.

My head fell back against his shoulder, cradled by his arms, holding me in place, my legs splayed over his. He kissed my neck right near my ear. The pleasure was unraveling, a slow simmer building.

"I . . . please. . ."
"This isn't enough?"

Need grew hot, quick, impatient in me- I whined piteously.

"Tell me when you're going to come, baby." He bit down on my shoulder and I gasped, writhing now on his lap.

He moved it lower, the weapon still buzzing, loud and egregious in the still, twilight-painted room. Pressing it against my cunt, hesitating like he was thinking of teasing me, I could bare it no longer.

"Now!" I managed, surprised at the force behind it. I was inarticulate, drowning in lust.

"Just tell me" He warned, slowly impaling me- entering me at a maddeningly slow pace.

"Oohh Godd. . ."
It felt too large for its size, my back arched as he pushed it into me, filling me with that hard quaking plastic and pulled it back out. He refused to find a rhythm, pumping it in and out of me sporadically and quickly one moment and excruciatingly slowly as he embedded it deep into me the next. Finding that tease, he settled in that rhythm, his fist wrapped around the fake cock, slowly driving it into me in hard insistent strokes, summoning this fiery pleasure from my abdomen, eliciting a sigh and mewl of pleasure that I knew would blind me in its ecstasy- such was the rapture he created between my legs.

"Julian!" I gasped.

"Now, baby?"
"YES!"
He turned it off, pulling it out of me unceremoniously.

"What?" I groaned, "What? No! fuck! No!"

"Shhh. Calm down, baby. Cool off." He held me still, amused.

"Juuuullllliaaan." I whined, desperate.

He released me, "Get up."

I looked at him, discombobulated.

"Get up."

I slid to my feet on the side of the bed shakily, and he handed me my panties, looking totally removed.

"Wait, you're joking."

"Listen, you don't fuck with me, Cadence." His cold sobriety robbed me of the warmth I had just felt in his arms, but couldn't extinguish the frenzy he had brought me to.

"What?" I shook my head, not understanding, nearly shaking with the need for release.

"Don't ever go off on me like that again the way you did in your apartment, and you most definitely will not threaten me. I forgive you, but you're not getting your dirty little come tonight."
He draped a pea coat around me protectively, covering my clothes- or lack thereof. I could've cried for how much I needed him just then as he steered me towards the door. I felt something ripped from me, my ability to question him along with it.

"Next time I see you, you better be wearing your collar. Goodnight."
I started off into the dark hallway when I heard his door creak open.

"Cadence . . . "

I turned hopeful.

"Don't you dare touch yourself tonight."

My fingers swept clumsily over the lights in the bathroom, lighting up the cramped space. I wore his bite marks as if they were jewelry; my hair was in general disarray. A small coil of leather stared up at me from the sink, completely foreign and somehow wrong next to the sweet pastel of the wallpaper. It seemed so masculine, so daunting. My need, at the time was so desperate, now dissipated. A new roiling sort of hunger replaced it. I couldn'tbelievehis nerve! The arrogance! From that crack in his dom-exterior he seemed genuinely jarred.

From my bed I watched the pale disheveld figure in the strip of mirror at my vanity smoothing cool leather around her neck, buckling her sense of security in place in bed, running my fingers lazily over the leather and the soft skin adjacent. I thought of his last orders and I couldn't bare it anymore. His words rang in my head.Don't touch yourself tonight.I slipped out of bed.

"Hello?" Ethan's deep voice filled my ear.

"Baby, hi." I cooed.

"Cadence." He sounded pleased.

"I know it's late . . ."

"Kiss me."
Ethan had barely let me in the door and I had my arms around his neck.

"Sweetie." He growled in my ear in a way that used to bother me and was starting to bother me again. His hands slipped around my waist and pulled me between him and the wall. It felt off even then, how it seemed like an old memory dug back up for interpretation. It seemed oddly familiar in a way that nearly sickened me. I already didn't belong.

He had sounded pleased when I called, and it translated in his kiss as he tugged at my shirt, pulling it over my head.

"Wait." I fought back the panic that built up, unsure of the marks Julian left on me- I pulled from his famished kiss. "Take me to bed."

He lifted me against him and I pushed the scene earlier out of my head. TH bed was made as usual, and I Tried to turn off the mental image of Julian's sheets and pillows. I had him keep the lights out, it was dark enough to just barely focus on the forms under each other's touch. Still, Julian was everywhere.

I let Ethan go through his routine- kissing my neck, kissing my chest, pushing his hand between my legs . . . I shut my eyes, thinking of Julian's unpredictability, his predator-like confidence- his roughness and skill.

"Ethan . . ."
Don't touch yourself.

He pulled his lips from my neck to answer and returned his kisses down my chest.

"Would . . . you . . .?"

He paused at my uncertainty, "Sweetie?"

"Hurt me?" I was instantly grateful for the veil of darkness to conceal my blush. The small words hung pitiably in the air.

He laughed a little, kissing my neck, "What sort of question is that?" He had slipped out his cock, straining to see if I was going to stop him. He didn't know it was a request. "Of course not!"

"Baby." He pulled out of me, leaving me empty. He kissed my forehead, "I'm glad you called."

"Hmmm."

He pulled me into his chest, his voice warm in my ear. I came as far as he knew, but hadn't found any pleasure to sink my nails into. I lay still in his grip.

"I was worried."

"About what?" I tried to sound sleepily concerned.

"That you've been working so hard, hiding yourself up in your apartment. I worry that you don't have enough time to make yourself happy anymore, or for us. . ." He sounded so relieved, like my calling him and laying beneath him had him convinced. I suppose it was enough for someone who wants to be convinced badly.

I stared at the red numbers glaring from the night table accusatorily, not wanting to listen to him swoon when I felt so guilty.

"I'm just so lucky to have you, sweetie. You know just when I need you most." His voice was slow and sleepy.

I couldn't handle this anymore- I didn't deserve this. I couldn't sleep under the comfortable tarp of his oblivious affection.

"What?"

"I forgot my clothes for work tomorrow. I have to go." My voice was tight, unnatural-sounding.

"Can't you just go earlier tomorrow, sweetie? It's two in the morning."

I sighed sitting on the edge of the bed.

"You know me, Ethan, I'll wake up when I need to be out the door. I don't have time."

He chuckled, "I guess you're right."

"Let me walk you to your car at least." He offered, pulling the sheets off.

"No, honey, it's fine- go to sleep."

I kissed him there in the shadows, my heart at my knees as I felt his honest love burn me while I abused his sweetness. The darkness of the room and the lights turned on in the kitchen casting a sort of glow to what could be seen in his bedroom, the womb that was this place of so many proclamations of love

I touched his face, wishing for that moment to reclaim me, to pull my back into his safe love- for that to be enough. I kissed him back. I owed him that much.

"Drive safe, baby. I love you."
He lay back down, satisfied, and I locked the door behind me.

Days passed like dripping molasses; I was growing restless wating for him. the lack of communication with Julian made me nervous in a loathsome, cling way. I knew he was making me wait and it set me aflame. Not only because I was impatient, but because his teasing left me obsessed- like I was addicted to his very presence. I worked unnecessarily on the backdrop of Sarah's painting something light and iridescent, something to bring out her eyes. She hadn't rescheduled her appointment, and it was just as well. It didn't seem right no matter what I did. It was something to distract me. It served, however to remind me of who he was with instead.

Ethan came and went, bringing coffee, and anecdote, tiny trinkets to keep each other company on my shelves and countertops. His general cheer only made me mourn Julian's absence al the more, and I wore his collar to sort of stem that incalculable hesitance. I grew uncomfortable in the spaces I left Ethan- this awkward, half-lit stage. He was in the dark: blind, but unaware, a srot of bad allusion to the Allegory of the Cave. I loved him, I did. I thought I did- he was stability and understanding, organization juxtaposed to my sloppy, haphazard way of living. He gave me the order I thought I needed, but since seeing Julian I felt that sort of normalcy was an incredible farce. What did wanting Julian make me? Was I just a leech for Ethan's affections in the place of something that gave the "real" Cadence structure? My paler, vanilla-self didn't need that flush of passionate, enthralling, stimulating rapport my sub-self craved. I was spoiled with Julian's attention when I did have it, or maybe he spoiled everything else for me. Everything else just seemed so dull and mediocre without his presence.

I had been cleaning my brushes one afternoon while staring at my latest failure- a newly finished abstract in tertiary green and muddy yellow- when my phone whined from its charger, a number I hadn't recognized.

"Hello?"

"How's my little bitch?"
My hand groped instinctually for my neck, and I felt the collar as though it were a part of him.

"God! Julian?"

"Good, good. Me? I'm fine."

I stood, leaving my brushes on the counter, not knowing what to say.

"I . . ."

"Come over, I have something to show you."

It was warm in his bedroom. How he managed to keep it so comfortable in a building where I had suffered through frostbite in the colder months for as long as I had lived there was beyond me, but he did and I was happy to indulge in it. He bent over a box that he never bothered to unpack that served as a nightstand. A few sloppy white lines were left on the dull brown surface; probably some last-minute gesture of hospitality with his usual precision blurred from whatever he was under the influence of whatever pills they were.

"Here, baby, it's ready for you if you are." He was then lying on his bed, his pillows and blanket formed a nest in the corner of the room.