The Experiment Pt. 05

The elevator slowly ascends with some grating sounds that only further terrify me, until Damian sidles up beside me. He assures me we will be alright; it's only a few more floors. I shake my head and keep staring at the light over the doors that shows our progress. He wraps an arm around my shoulders and tells me how beautiful I look. So very beautiful.

I've been told this before by other men, men who wanted my phone number, or wanted to 'DM' me. Men who wanted to flatter me so they could screw me. Or keep screwing me. For the first time, the compliment feels genuine, when Damian keeps gazing at me until I believe what he believes. Until I see myself as he sees me.

I quit watching the elevator light and lean in for a kiss. A sweet peck that quickly turns into more as he kisses more intensely. The elevator has stopped with a jolt causing him to pull away with a smirk, a look that says our next elevator ride will be longer and will permanently erase my fears.              

He raises the inner gate up by the rope, and we exit into a vast loft apartment. The entire floor appears to be his, the footprint the same size as the building. He sets his helmet and bike gear on a low bookshelf that's just beside the elevator as I stroll forward to get a look at the layout.

It's open and spacious with only a few interior walls, a noticeable echo as my heels click across the floor. The kitchen is off to the right; a long bank of glass cupboards against the wall, bookended by a stainless steel fridge and a very industrial looking stove. Across from the cupboards is a large island with a stone countertop and four high bar stools for an audience to sit and watch the chef.

Beyond that is a rectangular living room configured by a long L-shaped couch that sits across from another couch, both in black leather. A stereo sits on a tall bookshelf up against the windowed walls, but there is no TV. He's too busy working to have time to watch anything.

To the left of the couches is an assortment of workout gear, a weight bench with a rack of free weights, a pull-up bar, and a treadmill. There's a small installation of rubber hand-holds mounted into a narrow strip of wall for him to climb. And I notice an assortment of ropes that are hanging from a hook by the climbing wall. Ropes and carabiners that I'm sure are not just for athletic uses.

On the farthest corner to my left, behind what looks like an enclosed space that must hold a bathroom, there is a curtain that hangs from the tall ceiling and goes all the way to the floor. The curtain is made out of some kind of material like a screen, a shadowed transparency that reveals an impressive four-poster bed. The type of posts that are tall, and useful.

When asked, Damian points out that the restroom is indeed within the walled box off to my left. Inside I find the usual toilet and sink, a nice vanity that- no surprise- is stocked with grooming supplies. I pick up what looks like a bottle of aftershave and take a sniff. There's that warm sweet licorice smell, a smell that I inhale deeply with a smile. I'm looking around for the shower, confused by the three walls painted dark grey and then one wall of clear glass blocks that look like enlarged cubes of ice. Taking a few steps closer, I realize the glass wall actually hides the shower. Behind the wall is a large open space where the shower head is mounted into a tiled wall of stone, and the glass block wall serves as the opposite wall. There is no door to this, just a long extension of tiled floor with a drain in the middle. I spot a light switch just beside the tiled entrance and flick it on. A dim beam of light comes down from the ceiling, assuredly creating a shadow of whoever is inside the shower that one could see from the outside. I am not surprised that he has created, or paid someone to create this very revealing configuration.

After using the facilities, I find him standing in his kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water. And he's poured a glass for me. Being hydrated is important when one expects to exert your energies. I make the walk across the floor of dark wood, and he looks up. He smiles at me, a contented exhale as he comes around the island and stands beside it.

I'm so happy that I'm here, happy that he brought me here, and into his life. A life I want to be a part of from now on, and I need him to know that.

"Thank you for introducing me to your family, and your mom," I say as I come to a stop in front of him. "You have an awesome family. "

He chuckles a little. "You may not think that if you spend enough days with them. But I would not be here without them. And I would not be here with you."

"Even after my alley-way spying?" I try to joke, still feeling the need to apologize for it, still wanting him to know how much I regret it.

He shakes his head, and takes hold of my hand. "You were not entirely wrong to be afraid. To worry when that was also how we met."

"But I should also trust you," I emphasize with a squeeze to his hand.

He stares at our clasped hands, a sad smile. "It is not easy to trust, I know. To be let down by someone you love, even as they claim it."

I feel a tightness in my throat, to know he was wounded by something that stings years later. Whoever it was that let him down, I won't repeat their mistakes.

"I can't claim to be perfect, but I love you. That's what I should've said instead of hiding in the dark like a crazy woman."

He chuckles again, then looks up. He holds my gaze for a long beat, wrenching a truth out. "Miss Siena hid in the dark because she was afraid of being seen. I could have shown her... I could have told her she was not alone. That what she felt, I felt from the day I met her. That I wanted her all to myself, to never share her with anyone."

My eyes are stinging when I see his regret. I open my mouth to argue that he has shown me repeatedly how much he feels for me, but he interrupts.

"I love you, Siena. More than I can say."

I can see him tremble with this admission, a sheen in his eyes that is beyond beautiful. I reply that I love him and lean in to kiss him. And continue kissing. He kisses my cheek and whispers into my ear how much he loves his Miss Siena. Just hearing him say that floods my body with reactions; the ache of love in my chest, the squeezing ache from deep within.

I love him so much, I want him to know how much I want to please him for making me feel this way. To give myself to him in every way possible.

Quietly I whisper this into his lips: I'm asking how he wants it. Whatever he wants. What does Daddy want? Make me show him how I'll be a good girl from now on. I'll be your good girl who only gets what she deserves.

He's grinning, a hot kiss to clarify. "Is that so?"

"Yes," I answer.

He continues to kiss, considering. He slowly pushes my sweater off my shoulders, sensually pushing it down my arms, then a pause as it bunches up at my wrists. After the brief pause, he's yanking it free from my wrists. A quick and savage yank that flings my sweater to the ground. Oh hell, yes.

My dress is next. His hands are slowly pulling up the hem, shoving it up my thighs, a pause as he stares me down, a silent raise of his eyebrow that is waiting for me to obediently raise my arms before he yanks the clinging material up and over my head. He flings it down to our feet, then another pause as his eyes go over me. I'm wearing the same satin bra and panty set in dark blue that I wore to my very first session with Mr. Damian, a disguised grin on his lips that I'm sure has recognized the intention of this. For once I am not as impatient as he gazes at me, discovering he is teasing us both with this pause. Another deep breath is taken before he rips down the straps of my bra. With a hand grabbing my ass to keep me in place, he dives down to suckle each breast in turn. He sucks hard, releasing my nipples with a painful pop, a menacing grin as he does so.

I'm released for only a second before he whirls me around. He's bracing me against the island, my hands scrambling to get a grip on the edge of the countertop as he tears my panties down, his fingernails scraping my skin. He impatiently lifts one ankle, snagging my panty on my high heel before ripping it free, only to leave my panty dangling around my other foot. His hands come back up my legs, gripping my hips as he presses into me.

Using the weight of his body to bend me into position, he leans over crushing my breasts into the cold stone of the island, his warm lips grazing my neck. Keeping me pinned, his right hand then grabs my right leg and lifts. He jerks my leg up until my knee is bent and now resting on the surface of the island, my leg propped up in this elevated split like a depraved ballerina. I'm whining in ecstasy as he gives my bottom a quick spank, a growl in my ear to stay put. He spanks me again, harder, when I don't reply accordingly.

"Yes, Mr. Damian."

"Good girl", he purrs, only to spank me again.

He pulls away and I feel him changing stance. He's kneeling behind me when I feel his knees go up against my standing foot. His hands are going up my thighs and again bracing me, his head leaning in. And then I gasp. Oh god, oh dear fucking god.

Slowly, his hot tongue takes a long lick across my exposed slit, traveling from top to bottom, clit to ass. A long, excruciating pass with a flick of his tongue when he finishes. I whimper and shudder on my balancing high-heel; he warns me to stay put.

"Yes, Mr. Damian."

The tongue digs into my opening; shorter, hungry licks. When he's satisfied with the amount of moaning he's produced, and the slurry of pussy juice, he moves back up to my clit. Twisting his head to get his mouth around it, surrounding my hood and sucking on it. Oh fuck, Mr. Damian. He's so good to me and so terrible, devouring me like an animal as I moan with equally animal-like sounds.

He pauses for breath. "Can Miss Siena take more? Does she want to know how much she can take?"

"Please, yes. Yes, Mr. Damian."

He chuckles evilly, swatting my ass as his head changes position. His hand cups my ass cheek and holds, spreading me even further apart. I practically choke when the tongue takes a quick pass over my pussy, then goes up my crack. He's licking around my hole, tickling my puckered skin with his tongue. Oh my fucking god, it's good. I've never had anyone do this. And now he's stroking my pussy, two fingers spreading my lips, rubbing into my juices. And then the long middle finger slips in, knuckle deep as he licks my asshole.

I cry out for mercy I don't really want, trying to keep my elevated leg still so I remain open for this pleasurable torture. He pumps his finger steadily, listening to my desperate moans as he sucks and licks with a tongue that I swear is forked like the devil he is named for. He chuckles into my flesh, enjoying the pathetic rambling I can no longer control. Please, Mr. Damian, please oh fucking please, Mr. Damian.

The fingers work up to vigorous pumps that want me to come, or at least I think they do until he suddenly stops.

"Not yet, naughty girl. Miss Siena will wait for Mr. Damian's cock to fuck her. Does she understand?"

"Yes, Mr. Damian."

He mercifully pulls his fingers out. I try to relax the tension that builds almost painfully, whimpering as I nearly go over the edge just from the slow withdrawal of his fingers. Another swat to my ass, praising me.

I can hear him ripping off his shirt, flinging it to the collective pile he's created on his floor. He's unbuckling and unzipping, and then his cock slaps between my legs. One slithering pass of rigid friction up across my clit, then a vicious shove into my cunt. He chuckles with sadistic satisfaction while I gasp. A pause to hold me in place, to just let me feel his control over my body.

"Is that what Miss Siena was so impatient for?"

His voice is calm and low as he leans into my neck. He spanks my ass when I don't answer because I'm groaning from the slow pump into my pussy.

"Yes...Mr. Damian."

He withdraws his length, but doesn't fully pull out. Just a torturous pause, a spank to my burning flesh as I mutter incomprehensibly.

"Does Miss Siena want to say something?"

"Please fill my pussy," I mumble into the countertop.

His left hand yanks on my braid, tugging my head up.

"I did not catch that. What does she need from Mr. Damian?"

I'm not fast enough as I receive another scalding spank.

"Please fill my pussy, Mr. Damian," I grovel in my most pathetically feminine voice, reveling in the painful submission that fills me with ecstasy. "She needs Mr. Damian to fuck her and fill her so bad...please, Daddy."

My groveling is rewarded by the release of my hair and a gentle swat.

The spanking hand has locked on my elevated leg, adjusting it slightly so he can get the right angle to go deep into my pussy. A pause before he slams his depth back into my impatiently aching cunt. Then he begins to fuck. Fucking me like the devil himself.

I can hear his body slapping against mine, I can hear the slurp of my pussy being stuffed with his cock. My tits are rubbing against the stone countertop as I'm shoved forward, my body absorbing each energetic thrust. Beads of sweat are flung against my skin; it's a workout for him, but I can't imagine how much more I can take. The muscles in my legs are trembling, the strain on my one high-heeled foot. I'm trying to take deep breaths, trying to bear down in a way to relax my pussy despite having my legs spread apart like this.

He asks if I want to come, knowing that I do.

"Yes," I beg. "Please may I come for Mr. Damian?"

"Has Miss Siena had enough? Does she not want to be fucked?"

"No...no..." I mutter in delirium. "Miss Siena just wants to come on Mr. Damian's cock so he can fuck her all he likes."

"Oh," he teases with a haughty laugh. "Is Miss Siena telling him how long he can fuck her for?"

"No, Mr. Damian!"

He spanks me between thrusts. "That's what my impatient girl will get until she is given permission to come."

"Yes, Mr. Damian," I grovel, so close to coming I'm ready to burst.

He thrusts more vigorously, fucking me like he wants to drill me into the countertop, my body covered in sweat. More helpless whimpers escape in controlled breaths as I can only focus on not coming, trying to ignore the way he's pinning me down, the way it feels when his left hand comes up and clutches my throat. Just holding, not squeezing, but enough pressure to make me gasp. He's running his mouth along my shoulder, up my neck, listening to my restrained breaths, when he moves to my ear, a sweet kiss. And finally he takes pity on me, whispering his command.

"Miss Siena has waited enough. She may come for Mr. Damian. Now."

My moans become a shrieking release of my body's energies. It echoes in the high ceilings, replicating the sound of multiple Sienas being fucked into oblivion. He keeps fucking as I feel the surges lessen slightly, only to throb into another smaller orgasm that is even deeper. And then I hear a clutch in his voice, a hitch in his breathing that I know means he's on the edge. But then he exhales, a purposeful breath trying to back down. He doesn't want to come yet.

Part of me, the devious part of me wants to torture back. Still feeling the spasms in my cunt from my own orgasm, I find that although I can't relax it, I can flex myself in a way that tightens the squeeze on his cock. Knowing there will be punishment, knowing this is very naughty of me, I do it anyway.

I flex my pussy walls, sucking him inward ever so slightly, and he snarls at me. "Does Miss Siena want to be disciplined...is this how she repays Mr. Damian?"

Damn right, it is.

He's trying to hold off, he's trying to back down, but I whine and moan with exaggeration, knowing how he likes this, how it turns him on. I lean back the small amount I'm able and slither my ass into him, I ask him to forgive me.

"I just wanted to fuck Mr. Damian like he fucks me," I whine.

He's gasping in uncontrolled shock that pleases me far more than it should. He growls into a bellow, filling the space with his wild rage of pleasure. He's gripping my ass and trying to weakly spank me, but it's all he can do to hang on and empty his load into me. Pump after pump of his essence, hot and sticky. I can't believe how much I love the feeling of him doing this, how much I want every drop of him.

Then, we are both panting. He's draped over my body as I collapse into the counter, ready to fall over. A full minute of us gasping and trying to replenish oxygen to our brains and bodies before we move. Gently he lowers my trembling leg, then puts his arm around my middle to raise my shoulders from the countertop. I turn myself around with a bobble, leaning into his chest for support, and he allows me to put my arms around him.

We stay embraced, exhausted sighs from each of us. Feeling more coherent, I lift my head up and gaze into his dazzling blue eyes. Grinning, happy.

"You... said you would be good," he admonishes with narrowed eyes.

I try not to giggle, a kiss before I speak.

"Wasn't I?"

He stares me down, that charged look that debates how best to deal with my unruliness. The debate ends with his amused smirk, pulling me in for a long, sizzling kiss. My body is already humming once again when he ends this kiss. His arms cinch in and tug me off my feet, and I'm hoisted into the bathroom.

He flicks on the lights with his elbow, and quickly shoves down the dimmer so the room is illuminated in a dim gold, then sets me down on my feet. There isn't much left to remove except my dangling bra, but I wait while he undresses; enjoying the sight of his half-naked body, his manhood exposed out of the top of his pants that he slowly pushes down. After he's naked, he turns on the water in the shower, letting it get warm. He teases me with the lightest kiss, feeling his lips turn into a grin when he tugs us into the tiled shower.

Damian reaches the showerhead first, letting go of my hand when he backs into the spray. He tilts his head back, letting the water run over his face and body, saturating his hair. I wait while he efficiently does this, appreciating that he does not leave me hanging in the cold. But the wait is worth it when he flicks his head forward, running a hand through his hair and palming the water off his chest with the subtle seductiveness he has perfected. He gives me a cocky grin, luring me forward.

I walk into the spray of water, but keep my head tilted back so my braided hair stays dry. With my eyes closed, I can smell the woodsy fragrance of his soap, and open my eyes to find him lathering up. Slightly disappointed that I could not assist in the washing of his body, he gets another generous pump of soap from the little brown glass bottle in his shower. I watch him rubbing his hands together, then he takes my left arm and begins to transfer the lather.

He slowly and methodically washes my arms, his fingers caressing my skin, gliding over my shoulders and around my neck, then down my back and around my belly. His hands cup my breasts and lather in gentle circles, but restrain themselves from more sensuous movements even as I utter a quiet moan. The hands continue down across my backside, lightly and carefully rubbing the tender skin of each ass cheek. Then he descends to my legs, going down the back of my thighs and then my calves.

He's kneeling on the floor, keeping his eyes on his work while his face is fixed in this calm expression. The hands slow down as they reverse direction and ascend my thighs, pausing for the dramatic effect he is so known for when he reaches the crux. I gasp as he gracefully slips his left hand between my thighs, not so much lathering as massaging. The warm fingers glide over my clit and around my labia, taking care to wash off his sticky signature, with movements that don't intend to stimulate per se but are clearly having an effect as I sway breathlessly. Once he's satisfied with this hygienic teasing, he stands up and leads me back under the spray. I move as directed, turning and twisting as he rinses me off, getting a kiss from his wet lips. I briefly pout when he pulls away and finally shuts the water off.