The Bonding Ch. 05

I felt like two people. One eager to experience the new day, the other huddled in a dark cave, terrified of the sun.

Finally I stood up and walked downstairs. I turned on the hot water to my tiny bathroom and took a long, hot shower. This much of freedom, I could definitely adjust to. After my shower I went to the kitchen and made a huge breakfast for myself. I sat at the table and ate slowly. When I was done I left my dishes in the sink.

I went back to Michael's room and crawled under his covers. I traced my fingers over his cock. I couldn't help thinking that my freedom depended on never taking this magnificent monster inside of me again. I was surprised to find myself weeping.

I traced my tongue over his skin and slowly took him into my mouth. At least I could still have this much of him. I savored the taste of him as I sucked, feeling him growing impossibly huge, stretching open my jaw.

He groaned as he came awake, pressing my head down, forcing himself deeper, choking me. He thrust up suddenly, burying all ten inches in my throat. I gagged and tried to breath. I felt my sex flood with wetness. And it wasn't his arousal triggering it, it was my own.

"Anya?" His voice was confused, half asleep. He let go of my head suddenly.

I pulled back slowly until I could breath again. I sucked him, using my hands and tongue to stroke him. There was something so very erotic about doing this simple thing, this thing I had done so many, many times. Because I was doing it now as a free person. This act was mine, to do or not... it was my gift.

For some reason that thought made my sex throb and ache. I squeezed my thighs together and rocked back and forth as I sucked him. I moaned over his cock and pulled him from my mouth.

I looked up at him as my tongue swirled around the head. He looked almost afraid, despite his raging erection. Imagine, Michael afraid of me. But that wasn't what I wanted. This was supposed to be my gift.

"Michael," I said, my voice husky with need. "I'm so close. I need the switch. Please, Michael."

His eyes widened in surprise. He hesitated a moment. Then he took the switch in one hand, the other he tangled in my hair, jerking my head sharply back. He brought the thin reed down on my back as he looked into my eyes.

I couldn't feel his reaction when I cried out. There was no desperate hunger for his pleasure to buffer the pain. It just... hurt. And it kept right on hurting as he whipped me over and over, even after he'd let go of my hair so I could take him back into my mouth.

But the pain did it's job. It fueled his passion, and while it didn't seem to cool mine in the least, it did distract me from reaching my own orgasm. He shot his seed down my throat while I moaned in pain and longing. My gift to him.

I used my tongue to clean him and then crawled to the bathroom to kneel beside his toilet. I held his cock while he pissed. I bathed him, shaved him, and dressed him. Then I dressed myself in jeans and one of his old sweaters. I put on my favorite shoes, the comfortable ones.

"Sorry, I've already had breakfast. You can manage though, right?" I asked and smiled.

Maybe I would be able to find some balance between freedom and slavery. I didn't know if such a thing were even possible., but I thought I'd like to find out.