Oh, decisions, decisions.
Which rich bastard should I stay with?
Emmett and Slade; shitheads.
Edgar?
Dominant.
Sexy Dominant.
...doesn't seem violent.
Edgar seems reasonable, if a little skewed toward business.
Did I feel safe here in his apartment? Relatively. After our heated exchange in the car, I also felt a little submissive already, to be perfectly honest. It was hard to feel on the same level as this very controlled and productive man. Fear, anxiety; didn't seem to exist in Edgar. Could I trust him to help me? Hmm. Well.
What were my female instincts telling me?
I've come up with a decision at least; I'm going to tell Edgar that I want to stay and that I'll attempt to obey some of his orders. However, I was not going to go full out and jump into his pants and fuck his yoga dick. I imagined it slowly inflated during his yoga, like an evil Dominant's curse. Let's be honest. Edgar was meditating in spiritual preparation to fuck his little brother's slave submissive to assert his dominance over him.
And so - I must reject his advances. I must.
I think that was reasonable, I wasn't some sort of slut to be passed around, after all.
So... obedience to a Dominant... and maybe... you know... helping clean the place... could be some kind of rent payed - and all I had to do was listen, and stay out of his hair!
I just felt really strange things in my stomach, about 'betraying' my literal enslaver - Emmett Ransom. Maybe it meant I was now officially crazy but I didn't want to sleep with his 'older more attractive' brother Edgar.
Speaking of the Dominant.
I'm currently sitting on one of his backless couches, legs crossed under me, hands clasped in my lap, to hold down my short cream dress from gaping. Edgar has now slyly appeared in his bedroom door way, leaning on the wooden frame after his late night yoga session was up. Edgar's familiar two toned violet and azure eyes blink at me slowly, and unlike Emmett, Edgar seemingly has patience. He now opens his mouth to address me while I try not to look down for the yoga dick of my fucking sexy nightmares, "Are you going to surrender your rights, and learn a thing or two about real submission and domination - or are you going to be an inconvenience worth a lot of money?" Edgar drawls.
"I'll obey you," with my first response, he is already pleased, his lips curling up, however, I continue, "...with a condition..."
"I Dominate mentally, rather than just physically, so no conditions are allowed -" Edgar begins to explain and I cut him off.
"I don't want to fuck you," I state, a bit more firm, "Emmett -" Edgar's eyes darken with a warning, "...it feels wrong because I've slept with Emmett... and... I'm not some slut you can fuck just because I'm in your apartment."
"First rule," Edgar murmurs, sly, confident, slow, "...no talking..."
"Is that rule for just me or you too?" I've said it before I can take it back. My brain takes a moment to compute as I look up at the ceiling, mouth open, "...oh... you mean... just me..." I realise, looking down to see Edgar walking forward, smiling, hands clasped. I smile back.
Damn, he's got a handsome smile.
He's also probably the most perfectly groomed man I've ever seen. I notice his skin up close, so clear, his stubble, so even, even his genes are clean.
Edgar stops in front of me, leans down to my level and places his hands on my cheeks, now holding my full attention. My eyes stare right into his, while he lets me know, "I'm going to teach you three things before I let you go in the morning."
"The morning?" I whisper, my lips promptly held down by his thumbs as they brush over my lips, stopping further words from escaping.
"No talking, no freedom - only permission, and... last but not least I'll teach you the truest pleasure of submission, okay? Nod if you understand me."
I find myself hypnotised by Edgar's deep as hell voice, my lips smiling and stretching against his thumb pads, which help keep my mouth closed. I nod yes, an easy decision.
Edgar lets my face go so quick, my head moves toward him instinctively as he stands tall, that I find my mouth is suddenly very close to his... mm, ah, his pants.
Oooo...
I blink and start to think a bit when -
"Lie down, close your eyes and don't move and don't speak. You have permission to say one thing - Emmett - if you want me to stop, you'll say my brother's name."
I find myself lying back on the wide backless couch, laying my hands on my stomach and closing my eyes.
I mean, maybe we were going to do some counselling.
He said he was mostly mental - over physical Domination.
So -
Edgar walks out.
I hear him pad out into his room, he shuts the door and... huh?
I have the strongest desire to open my eyes. To call out.
But I have to focus.
It's... actually... not hard. He said one thing. I mean, I can say one thing. Emmett. The rest? I do nothing. He does stuff. And I have one word. Emmett. Okay. No room for my brain to do weird stuff with that.
Very simple.
Kind of ingenious.
Emmett.
I'll say Emmett if I want him to stop.
...huh... Edgar walked away, though.
Huh.
Perhaps twenty minutes pass, and in that time, I hear Edgar reenter the main room and grab some water. I hear the filtered tap run. I hear things, really simple things. I think he's checking his work again on his ipad, because I hear him pick it up and put it back down.
What the fuck, but also - okay? This was really relaxing. Just waiting. Huh...
Huh... and it's kind of making me sleepy.
One word.
Emmett.
One word -
Edgar, eventually, walks back over, my ears sensitive to his movements.
I feel him, somehow with my nose and the hairs on my arms - I can feel where he stands. How odd that I can feel distance.
"Cheryl, if you want to do anything beyond what you're doing right now, you will ask me permission first," Edgar speaks so slow... "That includes movement... speech... Cheryl... now... I'm going to ask you a question... answer with your words..." damn, I must be in some kind of counselling, I feel so happy and free of all worry when he talks to me so soothingly, "...are you in control yet...?"
"Of what?" I ask.
"It's a yes or no question," Edgar corrects me, but he does not touch me in punishment.
"Yes," I answer with my first response.
"I thought so," I wait a moment, and Edgar waits a moment too, "...Cheryl... open your mouth and stick out your tongue..."
Oh.
I find myself doing it, since he asks so politely.
Splat.
Warm, hot cum - squeezed onto my face, over my tongue, some of it coats my lips.
Instead of tensing from the shock, I just feel my body relaxing.
The total opposite of my usual hyped up nonsensical knee jerk nopey-nope reactions.
"Swallow it and shut your mouth - I had to clean out that backchat, Cheryl. A disrespectful mouth gets a Master's love - you better fucking savour it."
I feel a different kind of splat, down below, as my pussy squeezes out fresh warm happy juices with his sexy command.
...savour it.
I do and then I swallow it as it's strong, while I feel Edgar's hands now gliding under the top of my dress. One hand feels my breasts, while the other slips between my legs, a finger tracing the outside of my soaked panties.
"Don't squirm," Edgar warns me before I do, as he keeps stroking my pussy with his finger over my panties, spreading the cream, while his other fingers massage my breasts. Without much more caution, Edgar begins to play his game.
I have one word available, but I'm too entranced to stop this.
He's grabbing my knees soon, lifting my legs as he scrunches up my panties and rips them from my legs.
Edgar climbs onto the couch, and this whole time my eyes have been shut obediently.
"Don't move, doll face," Edgar's only warning as he lies down to press his lips to each thigh, then taking his long, deft tongue, dipping it through my exposed petals, licking up to my clit, rubbing back down and licking up again.
So hot.
I find myself addicted to it already, as Edgar eats me out, I try to stay as still as possible while he tortures my clit. Edgar must see me squeezing, and trembling with every precise lick of my pussy.
"...you're not allowed to cum..." Edgar speaks over my hot wet flesh, "...not at all tonight, actually... you can cum tomorrow... but you'll have to stay and learn patience to receive that kind of generous reward... do you understand me, Cherry?"
Cherry.
Boom.
Spell.
Broken.
When Edgar says my name like that - I imagine it's Emmett tone exactly. I freak out and suddenly pull right back, kicking my feet at Edgar's shoulders and his face. I topple off the edge of the couch, but I mange to pull my dress back down as I stand up and see Edgar genuinely irritated.
"No," I hold up a hand, while staring at Edgar's lips that he licks clean. I have to close my eyes and look away, "No. I have to go."
"I'm not done with you, Cherry," Edgar warns me again.
"Don't call me that," I whisper as I shake my head and head for the door, pantyless, "I'm sorry, it was a mistake, I'm leaving."
I get as far as the door, after slipping on my shoes and retrieving my bag. I'm about to exit when Edgar's Dominant tone is administered.
"Don't ever come back Cheryl - next time it'll just be lessons through pain and punishment. Fucking brat."
I open the door and rush out, slamming it without looking him in the eye.
Cowardly? Maybe.
Geez.
I find myself running off.
I was enjoying all that too much.
I had my fun; which I never wanted.
And after it all, I find myself running back to Emmett... Edgar just seemed a little bit too dangerous with how well his mind games worked.
There was something about him.
It kind of made me; emotional for Emmett.
Edgar was so refined - but Emmett was so fucked up.
It was a strange thought, or maybe it was a sixth sense - but I felt Emmett Ransom needed my help urgently.
Emmett had a desperation for normalcy, almost like he envied Edgar's grasp on life.
I think I knew what it was now.
That god damn meditation for yoga dick has given me a big brain.
My acquired knowledge through brief submission, has helped me inadvertently get to the bottom of Emmett's obsession with enslaving me.
I wasn't the one Emmett was trying to control.
It was all about him.
The way he played that violin and overworked himself incessantly, the way he roped me into a death that rocked the family, to cover up the accident...
Emmett Ransom had no fucking control - and he was looking anywhere and everywhere - but at himself.
*•.¸♡ --- ♡¸.•*
Pewdiepie reference. Come on. It was pretty funny. Right? Heheh. BIG BRAIIIN.