Silence descends over us, the tension in the room is thick, each passing second leaves me feeling dumber for voicing out such an awkward request. What do I know about sex, let alone being a submissive? My eyes raise to meet Brandon’s, my lips part open to tell him to forget anything I said but he cuts me off with a soft glare and a sigh.
“Sex in my world is different,” he finally says. He runs his fingers through his hair, letting some of the brown locks fall over his forehead. I palm his cheek, the pad of my thumb caresses his prominent cheekbone.
“You can teach me; you can show me how.”
Brandon’s hand comes to the small of my back, my legs tangle in the sheet when I try to change position to straddle him. He catches on to my movement, lifts me so my legs are resting on both sides of him.
“You don’t get it,” he says. “In my world, there is no lovemaking, just plain fucks with no strings attached. I cannot love you, Elna.”
Grinding my waist against his groin, I cup his face and say, “Then fuck me.” I rest my forehead against his, my voice reduces to a whisper, “If you will let me, then I can teach you to love me.” He starts to shake his head and I try to keep it in place. “Brandon, please, let me love you. I want to love my husband.”
His eyes close, his lips set into a grim line, I hug him and tuck my head into the crook of his neck. Some of my hair falls over my face, his hands palm my back and I squeeze him to comfort myself. His last statement scares the hell out of me. I know he is a man of his words but it doesn’t stop me from hoping, wishing it’s one of those things we say and we don’t follow through with it.
I want him to love me the same way I intend to, with all my heart, body and soul.
“Elna,” Brandon calls but I refuse to answer, I hug him tighter instead. I don’t want to see his face yet. “Elna, you are being a disobedient sub, I will have to punish you.”
My head falls back and my teeth sink into my lips. “You want me to be your sub?” I ask without meeting his eyes, one of my hands rest on his shoulder, the other gets lost in his hair. It’s soft, softer than I expect it to be.
“It depends, Elna,” he murmurs and hooks his index finger under my jaw. “It depends.”
The overhead light hits his amber eyes, turning it a near translucent, golden colour. His pupils are dilated, his long eyelashes create a shadow on his cheek and he swipes his tongue over his lips. Withdrawing my fingers from his hair, I trail a line across his forehead, the bridge of his crooked nose, his lips, then his neck, making circles around his Adam’s apple which bobs up and down.
I run my finger over his lips and smile. My voice is a whisper when I ask, “On what?”
Brandon cups my buttocks, the contact of his warm hands on my bare skin reminding me of his actions from a few minutes ago. It seems like hours have passed since that happened. I don’t feel pain anymore. Since I know he is into BDSM, a part of me wants more of the kinky stuff, the spanking and all that. I want to see him in his full dominant mode.
“If you still want the post,” he mutters.
A sigh escapes me, my head angles to one side to get a better view of his handsome face, I don’t understand him at all. When I think I am beginning to grasp the kind of man he is, he does something to make me think otherwise. What goes on his mind?
First, he tries to scare me off into saying no, now, he’s offering me the same position. I sigh again. To think that people call women the confused gender when Brandon is the exact definition of confusing. Of course, I want the post. I want anything that will bring us closer. I want to know him. I want him to fall in love with me. But I don’t want to compete with any other female for his attention, he belongs to me, as I do to him.
With a new resolution in my heart, I smile and ask, “What about the other subs, will you let them go? I don’t want to share you.”
“Yes.”
His response warms my heart, I almost peck him until I remember her, the first female to touch me. “Including Sophia?”
“She has her use.” I narrow my eyes and cross my arms under my breasts. It earns me a chuckle and he continues, “Outside the bedroom. I’ll keep her but not as a sub.”
Sophia is a doctor, I try to remind myself, she has her use outside the bedroom, that’s why he needs her. “If I refuse to be your sub, will we consummate our marriage?”
The transformation is subtle and fast, the cold look that creeps into his eyes, his mask is back on. I bite my lip, searching his face to know where I went wrong. “Yes.”
“Then I will be your sub.”
“Are you sure?” he asks. He looks me over and I squint at his scrutiny, a low chuckle escaping my lips when his mask of indifference cracks. He is so cute when he’s confused and I pepper kisses all over his face.
“Yes.”
“You have to do everything I tell you.” I nod. “Even if you don’t like them,” he murmurs and I still nod. “I will spank you sometimes.”
“Will you hurt me?” I ask.
I don’t know how BDSM works and I am not sure I can handle the sadism or masochism part of it. Brandon is unforgiving, no matter how long it takes, he must take back his pound of flesh, today is an example. Even at that, I still want to be his submissive.
“Nothing you can’t handle but I won’t.”
We stare at each other for a bit before I pull my shirt over my head. My breasts point at him, my nipples stand at attention but I make no move to touch him, neither does he try to touch me. I bite my lips and wait. Whatever happens next is up to him, he’s the teacher and I am the willing student.
Brandon’s finger circles my nipples, a hiss bubbles up to my throat, spilling from my lips when he pinches them. His mouth closes over one of my breasts, my head falls back and my fingers dig into his shoulders as he bites hard on my nipples while kneading the other perky mound on my chest.
His palms are callused, his touches are fast, rough and unkind. I hiss again in slight pain, a moan escaping my lips when he flicks his tongue over my nipple, instead of his usual biting. Strands of hair stick to my forehead; I make to put them up in a bun but the sharp look he sends me has my hands returning to his shoulders.
My legs wrap around his waist when he lifts us from the bed and my back connects with the soft mattress soon after. Pushing my legs apart with his knee, he comes to kneel between my legs, after placing a pillow under my waist. My hands move to the buckle of his trouser, he swats them away and proceeds to undo them himself.
His trouser comes off first, his boxer brief joins it on the floor. I gulp as his white dick pops out, it’s not like those porn movies where they are far from my reach, I can touch this one. His dick bounces, his shaft is a light pink colour, the colour of blush. His left hand wraps around his cock, going up and down that long, thick extension of him while his right hand sits on his waist.
The simple action makes me grow wetter, my fingers itch to touch him but I stay still, legs folded at the knee, biting my nails with my eyes focused on that part of him. I can’t get over the sight of it. It’s white and veiny, long and thick. It’s huge. I want it inside me.
Brandon pulls me up into a sitting position, my face is barely inches away from his length and his fingers dig into my scalp. I want to reach forward and tickle him with my tongue but this is an uncomfortable position to be in, I need to be on my knees not on my butt to do that. He hooks a finger under my chin so my eyes are on him, I pout and blink twice, then suck on my lower lip without breaking eye contact.
“I’ll lie down and you will sit on my face,” Brandon mutters with his thumb caressing my jaw in the least gentle manner.
The shock written all over my face makes him chuckle, I hold off my lustful thoughts about his penis long enough to ask, “What? Why? I’m naked.” His request is crazy.
His rambunctious laughter rings out after my reply, his head dips and his hand falls from his dick. When he raises his head, tears roll out the corner of his eyes, I bite my lip and smile at my handsome husband. The sound of his laughter is melodious, a harmony I want to listen to every day and it hits me with a bit of sadness that I haven’t heard his laughter until now. It’s lovely.
A lazy smile sits on my lips, I watch him through hooded eyes, forgetting all about my nakedness or horniness. Our gazes meet, the room grows silent, everything else fades into the background except him. Me and him as we continue staring at each other in our naked states. I dare to think that the intense look in his amber eyes turned golden is love or at least admiration.
The corner of his plump lips twitches and I know it at that moment: I will fight for him, I will fight for us and the success of our marriage.
“You are too innocent,” he murmurs.
I shake my head; he is sorely mistaken. I have seen a ton of porn movies, I touched myself on his instruction, touched a woman too, some, if not all of my innocence, must have chipped off by now. His hand goes back to stroking his manhood and I bite the insides of my lips, my eyes following his movements.
“You can touch him,” Brandon whispers, his eyes darting between my parted lips and his junk. “Touch him, Elna, he doesn’t bite.”
Blessing him with my biggest smile, I move to kneel, to get comfortable but he gets off the bed before I have a chance to touch him and my smile turns upside down real fast. He notices this and chuckles, stands at the foot of the bed with his arms akimbo.
“Come.”
I crawl the short distance to him, hoping to God and all other holy names that I look sexy doing it. My messy hair makes a curtain over my breasts, his eyes darken when I approach him and I get out of the bed to kneel in front of him, my dominant.
The cold tiles send a pleasant chill up my body and I moan at the contact. Brandon doesn’t question my move, only arches an eyebrow that earns him a small smile from me. I wait for him to repeat his instructions but he doesn’t so I take the initiative.
My strokes are gentle, almost careful like I am afraid I will do the wrong thing and freak him out. Pain travels up my skull when he grabs a fistful of my hair, his hold relaxes when I wince and place a hand on his hip and another on his arm to stay his movements. His gaze softens, an emotion crosses his face but it’s gone before I can identify it. Does he regret making me his sub? I bet he does, my pain tolerance is low.
His dick bounces in his hand, I gulp. “Put him in your mouth,” he commands and I nod.
Closing my mouth over the tip of his cock, I caress his balls while circling my tongue over the opening of his shaft. Another tug at my hair, his barely audible grunt and I withdraw sharply, eyes wide open, afraid I have done the wrong thing. This is my first time at this. I hate how my naivety screams.
“Don’t stop, Elna,” he growls out.
I resume again, this time I’m extra cautious, I do not take in all of him at once and my hand plays with his balls while sucking. The taste of his precum overwhelms my senses, it’s salty, I am not sure I want to swallow it. A gasp escapes me when Brandon pulls my hair back, he takes advantage of my surprise to shove his entire length into my mouth and I nearly choke on his giant cock.
Brandon’s dick hits the base of my throat, his grip on my hair relaxes long enough for him to let my head bounce up and down with his massive member still in my mouth. My eyes water, my reflexes kick in, this is unchartered territory and my teeth are already sinking into his prick when I remember he’s my husband but it’s too late. Brandon groans and rams his dick into my mouth while I do my best to suck without my teeth. I am not enjoying this, it’s awful. I don’t think I can be his sub anymore.
The rest of my thoughts die when I feel his warm, salty sperm shooting down my throat. My gag reflex kicks in now, I shake my head and begin to hit him so he can relax his hold on my hair but he doesn’t. He wants me to swallow. Our eyes meet, the look in his is scary but not enough for me to swallow his cum, I can’t, I don’t want to.
“Swallow it, El.”
My head moves left and right with so much vehemence, I have to disobey him on this one. With the last of my strength, I try to push him off me, ignoring the searing pain in my scalp when he refuses to let go. Tears stream down my face, my cheeks are puffed, I blink and try to swallow but I can’t. Brandon finally lets go and I run off in the direction I think our bathroom will be.
To my utter dismay, it’s not and I curse my inability to swallow. The next few seconds are a blur as I stumble to another door which is thankfully the right one. I collapse on the floor and puke into the toilet.
Warm hand circles my back; another rids me of the hair stuck to my forehead. My throat aches as I empty everything I ate today into the toilet bowl and his hand on my back doesn’t let up. When I am done, he guides me to stand under the shower where warm water descends on me. I shiver and hug myself, reluctant to meet his eyes.
“You are a terrible sub,” Brandon says, seconds after he turns off the water.
His words hurt more than they should, I know it’s the truth but it still hurts. “I quit.”