Regaining Control Ch. 04

*Thanks to @neuroparenthetical for taking a look and editing, even if I ignored many of your suggestions this time.*

*All characters are 18+. This is fiction for erotic entertainment only; I do not condone nonconsensual sex.*

She hadn't been able to scrub that stupid phone number from her hand.

It was imprinted in her mind after a few hours of trying, her skin an angry red reminder of the night before.

She remembered every detail.

Her heart leaping at the first sound of his voice.

The moment she realized it wasn't Sam inside her.

The exquisite feeling of two cocks filling her.

It was impossible to forget.

She'd drawn over the numbers, pretending they were an elaborate tattoo she was trying out. That had worked for her hand, but the images in her brain weren't so easy to overwrite.

Sarah threw herself into her classes, went on long jogs as soon as she woke up, blasted music to drown out the endless moaning, groaning, and fucking in her head.

She flirted with that cute boy in chem class, but he seemed to want a slower relationship. Frustrating as that was now, she would have appreciated it a few months ago.

Now, she was in a worse state than before that restaurant, her body constantly aroused and needy.

This had to stop. Her vibrator couldn't keep up. She had to take control of her life again--

That was it. Control. Her eyes narrowed.

Two weeks and several boxes she hoped no one accidentally peeked into later, Sarah was ready.

Nervous as all hell, but ready.

After her dorm roommate left for the day (they were polite, but never became friends), she opened one of the boxes and stared.

Metal cuffs lined with a soft material. Her core warmed just looking at them. If this went sideways, she was in so much trouble.

Sarah wiped her sweaty hands on her pants and found her phone.

She sent a text to that stupid number, with a hotel address, a date, an image of the cuffs, and a short message: Come fuck me. Just u pls. The date was tomorrow, Friday night, when he usually hung out at that restaurant (or did a couple of months ago), so he shouldn't be busy.

The next problem was that he had to come alone. Hopefully, the cuffs and her nice little message were enough to entice him.

God, this was crazy. Even if he was alone, so many things could go wrong. She couldn't dwell on that. There was only one way out of her obsession, so this had to work.

She ran over her inventory for the hundredth time. Sarah had no idea how bondage worked. Cuffs were easy, but the rest was a whole new, strange world.

She ended up adding a collar and a whip, but she wasn't sure about the whip. She packed the lingerie-disguised-as-a-dress that he liked to help convince him that she was doing what he wanted.

And one final ingredient, the only reason this might work: drugs and alcohol.

After a sleepless night, she checked in at the hotel early to get ready.

All the toys were spread out on the bed. She almost brought her vibrator so she could release some tension beforehand, but that was too much. If he were to arrive while it was buried inside her, she might just throw her plan and her sanity out the window.

She'd left his name at the front desk so he could have his own keycard. Another piece of control for his ego. Probably unnecessary, but she wanted him to be completely unsuspecting.

The door clicked. Her heart jumped.

She was sitting on the bed in her tiny black lace and no underwear, the drink in her lap sloshing around to the tune of her wildly shaking hands.

Sam stepped into the room and the door closed behind him. The loud click sounded like a trap closing; she just wasn't sure for whom.

He was alone. Sarah almost breathed a sigh of relief. Her eyes flicked over him, then she bit her lip and stared down at her drink.

He stopped in the hallway. She tensed, wondering what was wrong.

Sam took a long look at the bed, then swept his gaze over her, a wide grin spreading on his face. "Wow, you really went all out. I didn't know you had it in you." He licked his lips.

She smiled weakly and patted the bed beside her, twisting her bare feet together. There was no need to fake her nerves; she could barely breathe past the tightness in her throat. "Just... let me get drunk first. Join me?"

He sauntered toward her and tilted her chin up to stare into her wide eyes. If he didn't drink, she was fucked, and not the way she wanted. Her pussy clenched, quite happy with that thought, however it happened. Stupid body.

Sam seemed satisfied by whatever he saw on her face. He sat, palmed the keys on the bed, and stuffed them in his pocket. Then he plucked the glass from her hands and sipped while running his eyes over every inch of her skin.

Perfect. Arrogant, predictable asshole. Hot, delicious--

Fuck off, body.

She reached to the side table with a bottle and an empty glass, carefully pouring herself a small amount. He tipped the bottle until he was satisfied. She drank just to wet her dry mouth.

"Have you done this before?" he asked, eyes on her tongue as she licked her lips.

She shook her head, not trusting her voice.

He chuckled. "You are too good to me." His hand combed through her hair and he sipped again. "Most girls don't dare talk to me again, much less stalk me."

She brought her glass to her mouth, pretended to drink.

"This..." He glanced at the cuffs and picked up the whip, chuckling. "You surprise me."

She blushed. "I... can't get you out of my head," she mumbled. Sadly, it was the truth.

"Heh. Now, that's perfectly normal," he purred, taking another drink. He set the whip aside and fisted his hand in her hair, turning her head towards his dark eyes. "I don't do safe words if that's what you're after."

"N-no. I don't expect--you never asked before," she stuttered. Not that she would have agreed.

He examined her face and let her go. "Good. Finish your drink." He downed the rest of his.

A little jolt of triumph shot through her. She lowered her eyes so he wouldn't see it.

Sarah took a tiny sip and set the glass down, then leaned into him, pushing herself up to kiss him.

Now she just had to wait for the drug to work.

He grabbed her arms and kissed her back, more than ready to get started. Their lips and tongues tussled while she touched him wherever she could reach -- his waist, his chest, his back, his arms -- running her hands over those delightful muscles that she loved so much.

Sam pushed her down onto the bed and proceeded to explore her body. He pulled her dress up so he could gently caress her inner thighs, then rested his bulge on her pelvis. She arched to meet him.

"No panties. Aren't you a good girl," he purred.

Heat reddened her cheeks and flooded her loins. He smiled, stroked her sides from her hips to her breasts, palming them and squeezing a little too hard. She didn't complain.

When he rose and peeled off his shirt, she just stared.

He was such an attentive lover, maybe she should let him do whatever he wanted. It would be so easy to fall into his demands. All she had to do was... nothing.

No. She wrenched her mind back on task. She wasn't here to throw herself at him. It had never been that easy.

His hands landed on her stomach, caressed up to massage her breasts while he ground into her hips. "Like what you see?" He smirked.

"Mmhm." She swallowed. She liked. She liked too much. Her pussy was already throbbing with need; she'd been wet the moment she saw him.

He settled back over her and reached for a cuff.

She squirmed a little, biting her lip. "I--I need to pee. I'll be right back, I'm just n-nervous. Please?"

He paused with the soft fur of the cuff brushing against her arm. "Having second thoughts?" His tone made it clear that it didn't matter. He probably wanted her fear.

She shook her head. "I just, um, drank too much while I was waiting." Her skin was certainly flushed enough from arousal, fear, and anticipation.

His intense stare studied her for a few seconds before he captured her lips in a branding kiss. She gasped when he released her. Smirking, he rolled off of her and settled on the sheets, hands tucked under his head. "Be quick about it."

Sarah scrambled to the bathroom.

She could stall for a few minutes here, then a few more minutes and he should be out cold. She ran the water and splashed her face, the cold shocking her nerves a little quieter.

She took a moment to examine herself. Her cheeks were flushed. She could feel the wet heat between her thighs. Sam--his body, his voice, his scent--was intoxicating her far more than alcohol.

She told herself, soon--and on my terms.

With a few deep breaths, she emerged and slowly shuffled back to the bed with her eyes down. She could feel him watching her.

"Come here, Sarah," he purred. "You're the one who wanted me, remember?"

She stumbled back against the wall. "I--I'm sorry. I just--I don't know..."

He chuckled. "Careful. You're making me want to fuck you against that wall."

She shuddered, that reaction not at all fake. She stepped back to the bed, twisting her fingers together.

He leaned forward, began to sit up. Shit.

Sarah took a deep breath and leaped onto the bed, then tackled him and managed to push him back down. She gripped his shoulders and kissed him, hoping to keep him distracted just a bit longer.

He chuckled into her mouth, his arms wrapping around her. He maneuvered her until she was straddling him again, her crotch pressed against his cock.

A cuff fastened to her wrist. His hand grabbed the back of her neck.

Her eyes widened and she froze. If she couldn't move, it wouldn't matter if he was unconscious. Stall--she had to stall.

"My--my dress," she mumbled, pulling the hem upwards.

He chuckled. "So eager." He batted her hand away. "I'll get to that. We have all night; I'm going to enjoy you slowly."

She swallowed, her body melting. He pushed her head to his mouth, and she found herself more than happy to enjoy him back.

His hand on her neck slipped.

Sam paused and lifted his hand with a faint frown, flexing his fingers. He blinked several times, rubbed his eyes, shook his head. His gaze flicked to his empty glass. "What did you do?" he mumbled.

It was working. Oh thank fuck.

She smiled and slid off the bed.

He blinked a few more times, reached to grab her, but missed. With a frown, he tried to sit up, then collapsed as his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

She waited a few minutes just to be sure. Then she went to work.

God, he was heavy. That's why she'd tackled him to his back, hoping to get him mostly in place before he fell unconscious.

It was still an effort to strip his clothes and shift his legs into place. All of his clothes.

His dick was still hard. She stroked it, contemplating fucking him right then and there, but she wanted him to feel it.

She secured the cuffs to the bed and stood back to admire his spread-eagled body. Fuck, he looked delicious. Her pussy was still clenching from the thrill of clipping the collar to his neck.

Sarah sat in the chair to wait. Should be about an hour, maybe two. She was shaking. She did it. She fucking did it. Sam was completely under her control.

Sam was hers.

She eventually relaxed and allowed herself to consider the possibilities. Getting to this point had occupied her thoughts for the last two weeks. After? Just fucking him seemed anticlimactic.

Maybe something would come to her.

He woke slowly, confusion in his eyes. His arms tried to move, yanking at the cuffs. He stared at them for several seconds, then at his feet, noticing his naked body.

He frowned and finally saw her, sitting in the chair next to the shuttered windows.

"What is this, Sarah?" Gone was the casual arrogance and seductive purr, replaced by irritation.

But no fear. She glowered.

"This isn't my game," he said. "I don't enjoy this shit. Remove the cuffs, Sarah."

There it was. He couldn't help himself -- couldn't help trying to take control of a situation where he had absolutely none.

"It's not a game, asshole," she snapped. "This is what you get for raping me."

He watched her with clenched jaws and unreadable eyes. "You loved every moment. Don't lie."

Sarah snarled. "I should've gotten a strap-on so I can fuck you in the ass too."

She swore his dick twitched at that comment. Then he shrugged and sneered, his voice sliding back to that overbearing purr. "Paul can be a little rough. You still liked it."

The whip was tempting but she might actually hurt him with it. "Then I'm sure you'll like this just fine."

He laughed, his hips rolling gently, his cock swelling. "What are you going to do, Sarah? Fuck me? It'll be much more fun if you take off the cuffs. You know it will."

She stared at his rippling muscles and his half-hard cock, her fingers wandering between her legs. She blinked and scowled. "Ugh. I should've gagged you."

His nostrils flared. Was he actually aroused by this? More likely by her dress and her body -- by his own self-assurance he would find his way back in control again.

Not today, buddy.

She went to help him along; she was here to take advantage of him, after all. She took his cock in her hand and stroked, watching it rapidly come to attention.

He stayed quiet and still. She hoped he was feeling helpless and used. The thought sent fire rushing through her. She stroked a little faster, staring at this beautiful organ: the soft, round tip, the veiny, thick shaft, the curled hair at its base. Her mouth watered.

It was too tempting. She leaned down and locked her lips around his cock.

He inhaled and held his breath. His ass tightened and his hips lifted, straining to shove into her mouth.

But he said nothing while she ran her lips up and down his shaft, her fingers wrapping around the base. She took her time, swirling her tongue around the head, licking the length of him from the base to that sensitive groove at the tip before engulfing him, then taking him to the back of her throat where she hummed in pleasure.

"Fuck," he breathed. Her teeth nipped him and he flinched. "Take off the cuffs, Sarah. You don't need them. You don't actually want me like this."

She bit a little harder and he hissed. "Shut up. Just lie there and enjoy it. Isn't that what you always want me to do?"

She went back to sucking on his cock -- her head bobbing, her lips tightly sealed, her tongue bathing his skin. When he started to thrust into her mouth, she lifted her head away and glared.

"Stay still," she snapped, pressing her hand on his pelvis. His eyes were glazed, and for some reason, he obeyed. She went back to tasting him. The 'why' wasn't important. Taking her time with this lovely cock was.

After another minute of her slow, teasing work on his cock, she increased her pace, flattening her tongue against his skin as her lips sped up and down his shaft, her fingers following her mouth. She could feel him tensing -- his muscles tightening, his hips twitching in an effort to hold back.

She pumped him faster -- once, twice. Then, as he groaned on the edge of release, she stopped.

Sam growled. He had closed his eyes, his hands curled around the cuffs, his breathing fast and deep. "Fuck, Sarah. Don't--" His jaw clenched, he ran his fingers over the cuffs, and he relaxed.

Hmm. She expected him to be angrier. There was a smoldering heat in his gaze, but with his parted lips and loosened grip, it didn't look like anger.

Fine. So it would take a little more to piss him off.

She climbed up his body, her hands roaming over his muscles as she went. He flexed and arched gently at her, watching her progress. She held his eyes as she brought her knees beside his head, pulled up her dress, and lowered herself onto his lips.

He licked.

She almost jumped when his tongue touched her dripping wet slit. His soft chuckle breathed lightning onto her clit. She inhaled and pressed herself harder against his lips to shut him up, but mostly to feel his mouth and his tongue caressing her sensitive flesh.

Fuck, he was good at this. She clutched the bed frame as he licked his way up and down her wet folds, traveling a different path with every lap, sucking and circling at her clit. Her hips rolled with his tongue, giving him a little more access. His lips settled over her opening, kissing her pussy with his tongue swirling inside her, pressing against her flesh as he stabbed in and out of her hole.

She gasped and shoved into his mouth harder, humping against his tongue. He began to lick faster, sucking her clit whenever he could reach it. She panted and bucked her hips, her thighs trembling, the pleasure cresting, breaking, flooding her body in almost painful spasms as his tongue kept flicking against her sensitive nub.

When her thighs relaxed, his tongue slowed, grew gentle, and returned to long, soft licks, gathering her juices down his throat. She moaned in relaxed ecstasy, feeling like she could sit here all night with his tongue servicing her so beautifully.

Eventually, she sat back on his chest and smiled at the mess she'd made of his face. He licked his lips, but he couldn't reach most of her sticky fluids.

He still said nothing, just watched her with those dark eyes. He looked... amused, satisfied, as though he'd enjoyed getting her off. He probably had.

While that wasn't the response she wanted, she was rapidly becoming more interested in playing with him than simply humiliating him. That could wait.

Sarah shuffled back until her pussy hovered over his cock, then brought a corner of the sheets to gently wipe his face before she leaned down to kiss him. She felt a little thrill at tasting herself on him, her pussy clenching at where his tongue had been.

While she explored his mouth, she pressed herself against his cock, flattening it to his stomach so she could rub her slit along his length. He groaned as she rolled her opening over the tip, then down to his balls, back and forth, taunting him with her slick heat.

She sat up to watch him. He was straining again, his fingers tight around the cuffs, his eyes shut with a frown of concentration. She smiled, enjoying seeing him frustrated.

"Sarah..." he growled, opening his eyes. "Fuck me." It was almost a request.

"Say please."

"Please," he purred, his eyes half-closed, his hips moving with her. "Please fuck me, Sarah."

Shit. His voice shivered down her spine, made her want to drive her pussy down on him and ride him as hard as he wanted.

Not yet. Her fuzzy brain remembered something else she'd brought. Gliding over his cock a few more times, she moved off the bed. His soft growl followed her. She shuddered. Like a tiger in human skin.

She found the object she was looking for and returned to the bed. Irritation flashed across his face. "Don't put that thing on me."

She smiled sweetly and slipped the silicone ring over his shaft. It fit -- barely -- snug around the base of his cock. She hoped it was uncomfortable.

His lips thinned. "Take it off. It's too tight."

Crybaby. "You'll be fine for a little while. Maybe you can think about this the next time you want to stick your cock into a crying girl."

His cock twitched. Sick fuck.

She got on top of him, impaled herself, sinking slowly over his hard length, then reached to the ring and turned it on. She didn't need the vibration, but it almost instantly made her come. This way, she hardly even needed to move, and all he'd feel was her squeezing pussy as she pleasured herself on him.

She leaned over onto her hands, her clit pressing against the vibration, an orgasm hitting her almost before she realized it was rising. She gasped, feeling him thrusting into her pulsing tunnel, heightening the pleasure rushing through her.