Chapter Seven
An hour later, Jose is pacing back and forth across his tiny dorm room, still trying to fit the pieces of my fucked up life together. Trying to
"So your step-father raped you when you were sixteen, and you think that's why you don't like to be touched... intimately. But you know you like guys because of those fantasies about -"
"Coach Grey," I interject.
"Coach Grey. Tell me, have there been times when you used... pain as a way to feel alive?"
"Like cutting myself or something? No!"
"No... not like that, mi amor. I mean like... when I wrestle, and my face is being smashed into the mat, sometimes it feels good. You know, like life-affirming."
"Ohh... yeah I know what you mean. When I'm running and my lungs are burning, when my muscles are on fire, it's like that."
"Exactly. And what I'm wondering is... maybe - touch - needs to be like that for you. A mix of pain and pleasure."
"Jose, I don't think pain is going to help anything. When number three - you know - it was painful."
"But it was only painful, right?"
"Jose! Of course there was no pleasure... gross!"
"And with the two boys in high school, there was pain... but also no pleasure, at least not with the touching?"
"Right." Where exactly is he going with this? I think Jose might be crazy, but I have to admit that he has my attention.
"And with - Coach Grey - the fantasies were pleasurable, but you knew you couldn't have him. You knew he was unattainable, that it was safe."
Oh yeah, they were pleasurable all right... and they still are. But lately, they haven't been enough. The haven't been enough release the pressure building up inside me. Pressure from too many expectations, a need to be perfect.
"Do you think I'm attractive, or at least not repulsive? I mean - physically?"
"You're not bad," I sass, "But I told you, I'm not interested in you that -"
Jose cuts me off. "When I was fifteen, a sophomore in high school, I felt just like you're describing. My father had just drank himself to death... and by that I mean he got drunk and then wrapped his car around a tree."
"Oh Jose... you never told me -"
He holds up a hand to stop me. "Because if I told you that part, I'd have to tell you the rest. That I was messed up, falling in with the wrong crowd, dropping out of wrestling, getting in fights... until the girl next door came over and kissed me. And then she smacked me across the face. Hard. And it was incredible."
"How old was she?"
"Just twenty but... she knew some things. She took me under her wing, dug in her talons, and whipped me - and fucked me - until I could see straight again. This went on for two years until she moved away. Back then, I didn't know what is was called, but now I know she was a Dominatrix. And I - lucky little bastard - was her submissive."
I know my mouth is wide open, that I am gaping like a fish. Holy shit.
"After her, and once I turned eighteen, I explored the BDSM lifestyle. There wasn't a lot going on in Yakima, but I found a few partners who were willing. But once I got here to Portland... Oh man, it was like a whole new word. I went to some clubs, and trained to be a Dominant. But I've never gone beyond - scenes - in the clubs."
My mind is spinning with all of this new information, all of these new terms. Dominatrix, Dominant, BDSM, clubs, scenes...
"So, mi amor, I think what you need... is a release. You're wound up tight and you need to let yourself go once in awhile. Do you trust me?"
I'm sitting cross-legged on his bed, and I'm - yuck - still in my sweaty uniform, my running shoes discarded on his floor. I consider him for a moment, knowing that my answer is important. Somehow I know that it could change everything for me. Somehow I know that this is what I need.
"Yes, I trust you."
Jose transforms before my eyes. His shoulders straighten and he looks taller, even though I know we're about the same height. He looks more confident and in charge... he looks like - what did he call it? A Dominatrix? No, he's a Dominant and that make me... Oh my God.
"Stand." He says. His voice is sharp, but seductive at the same time. It's luring me in, like a razor blade dripping with honey.
I scramble off his bed and go to stand in front of him, my heart hammering in my chest. How did I get here? An hour ago, we were just friends talking on the ugly green couch. And now... Oh god, what the fuck are we doing?
"Take off everything except your panties," he commands, while pulling his t-shirt over his head, and removing his socks and shoes. He unbuttons the top button of his jeans, but doesn't take them off.
Hey, this doesn't seem fair...
"Don't think, Ana. You need to give up control. And once you do that? You'll be free. Do it now."
I take a deep breath and do as he says, feeling my nipples harden as the cool air hits them. Feeling self-conscious about my body, I bring my arms in to cover myself.
"Don't. It's just us, okay? You can trust me, and I want you unashamed of your nakedness. Do you understand?"
I nod and slowly move my arms, letting them hang down at my sides.
"Say it, mi amor."
"I understand."
"You will address me as Sir. Your safewords will be 'yellow' and 'red.' Yellow is for when you are reaching the limits of what you can handle. If you use the word 'red,' I will stop immediately. Do you understand?"
My limits? My limits for what, pain? Oh, I should leave. I should get the fuck out of here. But I want the release he's offering. I need it.
"I understand."
"I understand, Sir," he admonishes, his voice cracking like a whip.
"I understand, Sir."
"Kneel down, with your knees spread apart, palms up, eyes down."
"Yes, Sir," I say and comply without hesitation.
"When we do a scene, I will ask you to go into the room ahead of me. And this is how you will wait. I want you to braid your hair in the future, but your ponytail is fine for now. Tonight, we're just going to practice, get warmed up. Stand and place your palms flat on the bed."
I comply and feel him come up behind me, the warm skin of his chest brushing against my back. He gives me a soft kiss on the back of my neck and I hear him inhale deeply. "So sweet, mi amor."
His fingers brush where his lips had been just a moment before, and then he trails them down, along my spine, stopping when he reaches the top of my butt. He circles my right buttcheek slowly a few times, then removes his hand and - smack! - he brings it down hard on that same spot.
"Ah!" I cry out, more in surprise than in pain. But what's even more surprising is my body's reaction to the slap. A shiver of pleasure rolls through me, then settles right into my core. "Mmmm..." I moan, "that was..."
Jose chuckles. "Intense, right? Pain... and pleasure. Do you want me to stop? You just say the word."
"Don't stop," I say. And I don't even recognize my own voice. I'm no longer Ana Steele... I'm his amor, his submissive. "Sir."
He repeats the circle-and-slap routine three more times, and with each cycle, the sensation in my core builds until I am on fire... throbbing and ready.
Jose leans over and presses himself into my backside, and I can feel that this is affecting him too.
"Jose... I don't know if I can... I mean, it was only that one time," I say, hearing my voice rise in panic, feeling my body stiffen.
"Shhh... relax. I won't go too far... just a release, mi amor. You can trust me."
I feel his hand return to my ass, which is still stinging a little, but this time he doesn't circle it. Instead, he moves his hand down, slipping it in between my thighs.
I automatically clench my legs together, unused to anyone being down there.
"Relax And spread your legs a little," he murmurs, his voice soft and seductive. "Let me take care of you. Breathe, mi amor."
I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding and whisper "Yes, Sir," while sliding my feet apart a few inches.
"Good girl," he says, and then slides his fingers further in, stroking me through my cotton panties. "Tan mojado. So wet."
He moves my panties aside, and slides one finger along my slit to my opening, then slips it inside.
"Mmmmm..." I moan.
He thrusts his erection against my backside again and again, echoing the movement with his finger.
I feel a burning in my core that starts to kindle, slowly at first, but then it builds quickly. It's the same as in my dreams with - him - his gray eyes dark, his sleep-mussed copper hair, his cock stroking in and out - but I always woke up before I could... Jose must feel that I am close, because he chooses this moment to lean forward and bite my shoulder, and the sting of pain along with... "Ahhh!" I cry out as I explode, shattering beneath him.
I feel Jose thrust once more against my backside, and then he shudders, collapsing against my back. He's warm and sticky with sweat, but I don't mind. It actually feels... good.
Jose pulls away after several moments, our bodies making a slight sucking sound as they pull apart. This breaks the tension of the moment - the scene - and we both laugh.
He slaps my ass, playfully this time. "I need to shower... and take care of things. Get dressed, and I'll see you tomorrow. Mañana."
I nod in affirmation, blushing with the knowledge of what he'll be doing in the shower. Yes, I want more of this. Mañana. Tomorrow.
=/=/=/=
Jose and I settled into a routine. Because of our schedules, we usually ended up getting together two or three times a week. Most of the time, we just fucked. Hard. It was a physical release. He helped me to learn about my body, and took it to places that I didn't even know existed. But every once in awhile, when one of us was just tired or in need of comfort, he would just hold me until we both fell asleep. And it was more than physical, it was an emotional bond that was growing stronger every time. I needed him... mind, body, and soul to feel at peace. To feel whole.
Freed from my sexual frustrations, I was able to focus on my classes and my running. My mind was clear and my attitude was greatly improved. By the time my junior track season came, I felt like I could do anything... and I did. I'd always been slender and fit, but now my muscles were more defined. I was looking and feeling... good. I ate up the track like there was no tomorrow, leaping over the obstacles with a speed and power I had never felt before. It was that heady mix of pain and pleasure. I was flying.
As the months passed, José slowly took more and more control. He told me what I could and could not wear, when and with whom I could socialize. Pleasing him became the center of my being. I craved his rewards, and was devastated when he disapproved. I learned what I could and could not say around José. When he was the center of attention, he was all warm and caring. His chocolate brown eyes would glow with adoration, and I could tell that he was completely devoted to me. But whenever I would bring up Ray or Kate or - worse - Coach Grey? His eyes would narrow and grow cold. I couldn't quite put my finger on what he was feeling. Was it simply insecurity?
But in the coming months I would come to recognize it as a dangerous cocktail of emotions. Jealousy. Possession. Fury.
A/N: Another early release chapter for my Wattpad followers. Thank you for you support and I hope you enjoyed!
I know this is going down a dark path, but I promise that there with be a HEA for Christian and Ana. Things will start to look up by Chapter 10. You read the prologue, right?
So my question is... Do you trust me?