Yours Ch. 06

She wrapped her arms weakly around me and clung to me, pressing her face into my neck.

"I'm sorry..." she wept quietly, "I'm suh- sorry..."

Her body shook with sobs, interrupting her words.

"I didn't muh- mean to... I couldn't... I couldn't stuh- stop it..." she stuttered, "I couldn't buh- beg... I sssorry..."

I held on to her, kissing her head a few times.

"It's okay sweetheart..." I said, trying to reassure her, "It's okay, you're a good girl."

"I'm sorry..." she whispered.

I held her as she continued to cry, gently shushing her and stroking her head. I had to fight down my feeling of anxiety, of panic. Once again I found myself wracked with guilt as causing such a bad reaction in her, but still couldn't stop myself from enjoying it on a deeper level, my cock threatening to get hard again. I tore her apart and still she clung to me, seeking comfort from me.

Eventually she settled, her cheeks drying, though she still sobbed occasionally.

I just lay down, holding her against me, and reached over to turn off the light. I didn't know what she was feeling now, in this moment. Were these tears of frustration? Of pain?

Or maybe they were tears of relief? Of release?

"Sleep now, sweetheart." I told her gently, "Just go to sleep."

I felt her nod against my chest, and sigh deeply.

Within a few minutes she was out cold, and it wasn't long before I joined her.

==

I woke up to the alarm, and quickly shut it off.

Jessica slept soundly, looking wonderfully peaceful.

I felt a strange sense of understanding as I watched her. It was one of those weird moments where you seem to suddenly understand everything at once, even things you already knew.

For so long I'd seen her as just some bitch who hated me for no reason, who ruined my life. Then I saw her as just a slut who wanted my big cock, and was willing to do anything to get it.

Then as a latent submissive who had no idea about her real nature. Then as a stressed out over-achiever who'd do anything to find a way to relax. And now a willing participant, a submissive woman ready to explore this side of herself with me.

In that moment, in her, I could see all of these aspects, all these stages of her life in which I knew her. And there was still so much about her I didn't know.

She was my childhood bully, my sister's best friend, my first real crush.

My first crush...

I'd actually forgotten about that. Again, I smiled and shook my head. The memory filtered through the fog of time before my eyes. I'd liked her. Like, I'd like liked her. When we were kids, she was the prettiest thing imaginable. Before she started to hate me, and I her. Before she took my sister from me. Before anything was anything. She was little Jessica, practically the girl next door.

How could one person be so many things? Contain so much?

I wanted to wake her. I wanted to talk to her. I wanted to kiss those red lips, and feel her hair between my fingers.

Well... why couldn't I? I owned her now, didn't I?

I gently stroked her face, and softly said her name.

She stirred slowly, and opened her eyes. She smiled when she saw me, and moved to sit up.

I kissed her suddenly, not forcefully, but not exactly gently either. She giggled and returned my kiss, her hands gripping my shoulder and neck. I ran my hands up into her hair and kissed her passionately.

After a few minutes of kissing, I pulled away a little breathless.

"Mm... What a way to be woken up." Jessica smiled.

I laughed and lay back down. I stretched my arm out behind her, as she was already moving to rest her head against my chest. She nestled in to me and sighed.

"So how do you feel?" I asked.

"Really good." she said, sighing again.

"Good." I said.

I waiting a minute for her to elaborate, but she seemed content to lie in silence.

"What about the... the session? It seemed to hit you pretty hard." I said.

"Oh... this is... a 'briefing', right?" she asked.

"A what?"

"Or a debriefing? Like, where we talk about the scene we had, and how we felt about it and stuff." she said, "It was in one of the links I found."

"So you've really done some research?" I said.

"Yep. Except, I had to go into my internet browser's settings and disable all the pictures for a little while. Some of those websites were just filthy."

I chuckled at this, then suddenly laughed out loud when I realized she wasn't joking. She looked confused, and I just kept laughing, trying to get my head around the idea of Jessica, the woman I'd just tied up, tortured, and fucked into near unconsciousness still not wanting to see any nudity.

"What's so funny?" she asked, slightly offended.

"It's just..." I said, getting my breath back, "For a slut, you're just such a prude."

She laughed with me, seeing the joke.

"Well, that's different. I mean, I don't look at that stuff... porn stuff." she explained.

"No, no, I get it." I said, still chuckling. "OK, so. Let's talk. You were crying pretty hard, and I thought you had a higher pain tolerance than that."

"Well, you should try it!" she said, "That crop hurts."

"How do you think I got these?" I asked, slowly pulling my arm out from under her head.

I held out my forearm, showing her the bruises.

"You did this to yourself?" she asked, gently touching one of the darker ones.

"I wanted to know how much it hurt." I explained, putting my arm around her again. "So I'd know what you were feeling."

"So... is that like a sadism thing?" she asked. "Wanting to know exactly what... what kind of pain you're inflicting?"

That question was worrying but her tone was genuinely curious, if a little nervous.

"I guess it is." I said, "But don't change the subject. Was it really just the crop? Plus the clamps I guess..."

"Yeah the clamps were insane. Like, probably the most painful part." she said, "I was so happy when you took them off for like, half a second, and then I thought you were burning me or something."

My mind briefly went to the thin, red candles I had secured in my bag of tricks.

"No... no burning yet." I said ominously.

She laughed, not sure if I was joking.

"Well... anyway, I don't think it was the pain. I think it was actually the... the gag."

"Oh really? That seems like a pretty extreme reaction for just a gag."

"Was it? It was really intense... like..."

She paused, and started to absently trace my collar bone with her finger.

"It's like... when you tell me not to talk, it's still my choice, you know? Like... I guess it's not scary because I have to resist the urge to speak, but I still can speak... but with the gag it was... terrifying."

She continued to lightly caress my chest with fingers, and started to do the same against my arm with her other hand. She went quiet, gathering her thoughts.

"With the gag, I was completely helpless. I know I was on top, which meant I could stop if I wanted. But I didn't want to stop. I wanted... well, I wanted to cum. But I couldn't! I couldn't even beg! I felt so... powerless, so..."

She sighed, as if searching for the words.

"It's like the last thing I have, you know? You've bound me, blinded me, whipped me... and it's all exciting and scary and... but when I couldn't speak... It just seemed to add this whole other terrifying layer to it, like... like I was completely in your power... at your mercy."

"I see." I said.

I really hadn't expected it to effect her so much. The binding seemed to have barely any negative effect, even the first time. The idea of a punishment had shaken her pretty bad at first, but after she got used to it, the pain itself didn't seem to scare her.

But it made sense, in a way. She used her words to express herself, to defend herself, like we all do. For someone so unsure of who they really are, or for someone who used to be so unsure, anyway... her voice, her eloquence, her venom were a huge part of her.

"So you have a weakness for being gagged." I said thoughtfully, "I'll keep that in mind."

She looked up at me, worried.

"It's not like... I'm not saying you can't do it again, if you want. I mean, it was very... effective."

"Hm. And how do you feel now?"

"Well like I said... really good." she said, "That's something I read a lot about, the effect of submission on submissives. It's not the same for everyone, but for me... it just totally clears my head. It's... intoxicating, almost. I can just relax. My head is just empty. I could just lie here forever and never worry about a thing. That's so rare for me... And it lasts, too. For the next few days at least, I know I'll just be so much calmer. Everything's easier now, all the stress from school just doesn't get to me after we... after a night with you."

"Good." I said simply. "Good."

I stroked her head absently, letting myself relax. I'd pushed her hard tonight, seen an extreme emotional reaction, but she was better off for it. This is how it's supposed to work, I thought to myself. Pain and pleasure. Cruelty and comfort.

She rested against me and smiled up at me, knowingly.

"Yeah, it is good." she said.

I knew that smile. The sight of it triggered a memory in me. It had been a few weeks ago... the night she'd gotten back from vacation. She'd somehow got me talking about myself, and smiled this... infuriating, unfamiliar smile.

"What?" I said blankly.

"Nothing." she said, her expression not changing.

"What are you smiling at?" I asked.

She smiled wider and hid her eyes, pressing her face into my chest.

"What is it?" I asked, laughing.

"You care about me." she said.

She raised her face and looked into my eyes again, still smiling.

"At least a little bit." she said, "You care."

I frowned, and sighed.

"Jessica..."

Was she wrong? And... would it be wrong to admit that she was right?

"Jessica... if I didn't care about you... at all... I'd kick you out of bed as soon as you stopped twitching." I said.

She giggled, and kissed my bare chest.

"I knew it."

So that's what the smile was, her seeing that I cared? Why, because I talked about myself? The memory flared into full clarity for a second. No, she didn't smile when I'd talked about myself. She smiled when I stopped. When I got embarrassed. I guess she thought I wouldn't be shy with her if I didn't care about what she thought.

I closed my eyes, and sighed again. She kissed my cheek, and again laid her head against my chest.

For so long I hadn't cared about people, I'd become kind of bad at understanding them. At least it felt that way. But with Jessica, I was having to pay attention in a way I hadn't bothered to for a long time. The gleam in her eye, the smile so slightly different from any others. I wanted to know what she was thinking, what she was feeling. And this time I did.

It was hope. Just a simple hope that I would some day forgive her, that I could eventually look past what she'd done to me. Hope that, even if things wouldn't ever be normal, they would at least be better. That maybe I wouldn't always hate her.

"It's time to go, sweetheart." I said, patting her head.

"Aww..." she whined, "But I haven't stopped twitching yet."

I laughed, and she giggled with me.

I patted her head a little harder this time, a light, playful slap.

"Good night." I said.

She huffed, but obeyed. She leaned forward to kiss my cheek, and let out another little huff of disappointment when I didn't kiss her back. She then slipped out of bed.

I couldn't stop myself eying her naked body... her pert, round, well-whipped ass as she turned away from me.

"I hope Rose isn't still awake." she said, "That would be weird."

"I doubt it." I said, watching her get dressed "It's been hours."

"Mmm... you've been fucking me for hours..." she purred seductively.

I laughed again, and so did she.

"Goodnight, Sir." she said with a slight sigh in her voice, "I love you."

"I know." I said, "Goodnight."

She turned to leave, but slowly turned back.

"And... the watch." she said, "It's really OK? You like it?"

"It's... fine." I said, keeping my tone steady, "Thanks."

"OK. Good. That's good." she said, "Night."

"Night."

She walked out, and closed the door behind her.

I sighed, and covered my eyes with my arm. It was always after she left that things got harder. That I really had to think about her, instead of just being with her.

I looked at the watch on my nightstand. Valentine's Day.

Jesus. Like things weren't weird enough.

"Forever Yours." I sighed aloud.

I couldn't get that hopeful smile out of my head. Could things ever really be better for us?

A memory suddenly came to me, dark and angry.

When I was thirteen years old, Jessica somehow convinced some boys from school, none from my classes, just other random boys, to get together and to piss all over my backpack. Inside it too, all over my books, my homework, everything. I had it with me at lunch, I lost track of it, and then I found it, still wet and stinking of piss.

I threw it out and went to wash my hands. For the rest of the day I told teachers I'd forgotten it, and then I told my parents I left it on the bus. I didn't tell Rose the truth, and I don't think she even suspected.

Jessica was good at that. Convincing other people to do the bullying for her. She was more than capable of tearing me apart with just her words, but when it came to the physical stuff she preferred to not get her hands dirty.

Of course she never admitted that it was her, but I could see it. I could see the glee in her smile. She'd asked me, "What happened to your backpack?", "Oh did you get a new one?", "What happened to the old one again?".

I tried not to give her the satisfaction, but she knew that I was just avoiding the truth.

I always knew the boys that had done it, too. Not the exact amount, but usually the main culprits. The way they watched me, that same stupid glee in their smile. Or the guilt. That was far more common.

A guy'd do something to me; trip me up, throw something on my shirt... piss on my books... and then a few days later I could see the guilt. Sometimes they'd even try to be my friends afterward, but I never let them.

I couldn't blame them for it, really. After a while it became obvious that it was just what she did. She manipulated. She smiled and winked, she made them feel special for a little while, then she just twisted it.

You know that boy Steven? Wouldn't it be funny if...?

A few guys actually confirmed it. Came right out and said it. 'I don't know why we did that, Jessica just... made us. It was all her idea.'

As a kid, my own twin sister took her side more than she took mine, and ultimately chose her over me. Left me completely alone. That should be a clue as to how she was, how seductive she could be.

I suffered in silence, too angry or ashamed to ever tell anyone. Like they'd even believe me. Like anyone would ever suspect Little Miss Straight A's, pretty little Jessica would just torture a boy for no reason.

And now... now I had her. Once again, months after it had started, I still had to shake my head at the craziness of it.

I owned her.

I owned her.

Jessica. The strongest, craziest, most aggressive person I'd ever met.

I had her heart in the palm of my hand.

But all that stuff... that was ancient history. The stuff I'd tried to bury a long time ago. It had all stopped when we were around 15, when she... when she crossed the line. That's when the manipulations had stopped, and she went back to the verbal stuff.

I sighed and shook my head of these dark memories, pushing them back into whatever gloomy corner of my mind they occupied. There was no point in dwelling on this stuff.

Ancient history.

Yet every single conversation with her, every kiss, every warm embrace was tempered by these memories. A countless collection of examples of her cruelty. How could I really care about her when our relationship was like this?

She could be my nice, normal, loving girlfriend for literally years, and the good memories still wouldn't outweigh the bad. For every time she'd suck my cock, there'd be at least ten examples of times she'd made me cry with frustration and anger in the past. For every time she makes me feel good about myself, strokes my ego with her submission, there's twenty memories of her casually stripping away my confidence with her snide remarks and vicious insults.

I sighed, and tried to get back to sleep.

Fucking Valentine's Day.

Like things weren't complicated enough.

==

The next day I decided to wear the watch. I needed one, and it was a very nice watch. It didn't have to mean anything.

I ignored Jessica's wide smile when she noticed it on my wrist as I walked into the kitchen that morning.

"Nice watch." said Rose, "Wow, it looks expensive."

She obviously already knew where it came from, but I didn't react.

"Thanks. It was a gift." I said simply, sitting down to eat breakfast with them.

They shared a knowing look, and I ignored them. They didn't bring it up again, nor did Rose pry further into our relationship. At least, not until Jessica went home.

"So, are you getting her something back?" she asked the second Jessica walked out the door.

"Yes." I said, meeting her eye, "And I want your help to pick something out."

She seemed surprised at my answer, but grinned widely.

I'd already gone over this decision alone. It was what you did; you get a gift, you give one back. And I couldn't help but think there was an opportunity here too, although for what I didn't know.

As strange as it felt, I was getting Jessica a gift for Valentine's day.

"Good." Rose said.

==

We went to the mall after school on Monday, after Jessica left to start studying again. Only a few weeks after our exams and she was already back at it. I had to respect the determination, even if it pissed me off a little. She made the rest of us look like lazy assholes by comparison. I mean, when it came to school work I definitely was a lazy asshole, but still.

I drove us to the mall in our car, and we started the search. Rose took me around the mall, bringing me to look at jewelery, perfumes, flowers, cards... all stuff I didn't feel comfortable buying her. Too relationship-y. Too normal.

All the while she quizzed me about exactly what kind of gift I wanted, how I wanted to make her feel with this gift, why I was bothering if this really was "just sex".

I avoided the questions mostly, but I couldn't deny she had a point with that last one. What was the normal protocol here? I wanted to get her something, but she wasn't my girlfriend. But it wasn't just sex either, though I couldn't tell Rose that. She belonged to me. She not only accepted this dynamic herself, but was now actively engaging in it, talking about what it meant and how it made her feel.

Was it normal for a Dom to buy gifts for a sub? Did I even have to return it, couldn't I just accept the gift and give her nothing back, like she'd said?

But none of that really mattered, or at least I didn't want it to. I wasn't buying this because I had to.

Rose led me over to a fairly pricey clothing store that I recognized. In fact, I'd worked there for a few months one Summer.

Rose led me around the aisles, pointing out cute scarfs or adorable boots, but I wasn't really paying attention. I was just waiting for inspiration, waiting for this decision to make sense to me.