HisIndecentBoxSetpub (27 page)

“
Oh,
God, Damien.” I wanted to grab onto his arm, to touch him . . .
anywhere. But the damned handcuffs were keeping that from happening.
Now I was feeling the full emotional weight of being restrained, the
mind fuck that my ability to touch him had been taken away.

“
That's
a good girl,” he whispered, leaning to give me a chaste kiss on
the corner of the mouth. When he pulled away, I strained forward,
biting his bottom lip. He continued to move away though, and I was
forced to let go.

Damien slapped his
cock against my pussy a few more times, milking out any stray
contractions. Then he angled it to slip into my warm wetness. I was
oh so wet for him. Dripping, practically. He slid inside with ease,
making me feel full and complete. When we were coupled together, it
felt like I was an extension of him, and he was an extension of me.
It just felt so right.

He began thrusting
immediately, slow at first. I moaned when he pressed his body against
mine, leaning in for a kiss. Our tongues danced together, and between
breaths, I sucked on his lips while he filled me, pumping and
pounding, his gorgeous naked body moving on top of mine.

I wanted him, so
bad. Not just sexually. I wanted to belong to him, and for him to
belong to me. For us to be more than this. More than sweat and sex
and lessons.

Up
until this point, I managed to drown those thoughts out. Why they
were coming back now, I didn't know, but they had come with a
vengeance, snuffing out my happiness and pleasure.
Not now.
Please,
I begged, feeling the
tears welling up in my eyes. But every time I looked at Damien, I
knew I couldn't have him, and it absolutely killed me.

Before I knew it, I
was sobbing loudly. Damien stopped thrusting, looking at me with
concern as he pulled out.

“
Are
you alright? Am I hurting you? What's wrong?” he asked, coming
to my side to look me over.

“
No.
You're not hurting me,” I cried.

“
Then
what?” he breathed a sigh of relief.

I brought my arms in
front of my chest and pushed myself into a sitting position, avoiding
his gaze and feeling like a complete idiot. The waves of emotion
wouldn't stop though, and I knew I couldn't torture myself anymore.
This was a mistake. I never should have come.

“
I
can't do this anymore,” I sniffled.

“
Do
what?”

“
This.”
I thrust my wrists at him. He moved to unfasten the handcuffs, but I
pulled my arms away. “No. Not just this. I mean, all of this,
with you.”

He looked incredibly
uncomfortable, sitting rigid as he watched me. “I'm not sure I
get what you're trying to say.”

The words came out
of my mouth before I could stop them, “I love you, Damien. I'm
in love with you. And you don't want me like that. I know it. I
understand. I just . . . I can't do this, knowing that you'll never
want me like that.”

He took a deep
breath and then looked away. “Oh.”

See. I knew it.
This was pointless.
Why had I
come at all?

I fought with the
handcuffs, practically breaking them in an attempt to get them off.
Then I flung my legs over the side of the bed and fumbled for my
clothes, putting them on as quickly as possible, crying all the
while.

“
Do
you want to talk about this?” he asked, sitting on the bed with
his legs crossed while he watched me dress.

“
What's
there to talk about? I told you how I feel, now I want to go home.”

“
Yes,
you did tell me how you feel. But you never asked how I feel about
you.”

I was too scared to
know—too scared to ask. Instead, I slowed down, taking my time
as I continued to dress.

“
I
do care about you, Cheyenne. I really do,” he began.

“
But?”
There was always a but. The way he was hesitating let me know there
was a but. And buts always hurt. I tried to brace myself for the pain
to come, but what did it really matter. The tears had begun falling a
while ago. It wasn't like I could produce anymore of a torrent.

“
But
I don't do relationships. Not in the traditional sense.”

“
I
kind of figured,” I sniffled, sitting on the edge of the bed to
strap my feet into my sandals. In a matter of minutes, I would be out
the door and putting this whole mess behind me.

With my shoes on, I
stood and grabbed my keys off the chest of drawers, practically
running to get out of the room. Before I could make it to the door
though, Damien grabbed me by the wrist and drew me back to him. His
hot mouth enveloped mine, and I gasped, slapping at his chest. When
he pulled away, I was all fury.

“
What
part of I can't do this anymore don't you understand?” I
growled.

“
What
part of I want you don't you understand?”

I blinked a few
times, my mind a mess of confusion. “You . . . want me? But you
just told me that you don't date.”

“
I
don't date, but I do carry on relationships in other ways.”

“
Other
ways?” I felt absolutely stupid, like there was something very
obvious that I wasn't getting.

“
If
you would be interested in learning about BDSM, then I would be
willing to take you on as my submissive.”

I scowled. “You
want me to be your slave.”

“
No,
and yes. I want you to be by my side. I know you don't really
understand, because we haven't gotten into it much. But in the BDSM
world, collaring someone is as good as putting a wedding ring on
their finger. Now, I don't want you to get ahead of things and think
I want to marry you. I'm just saying that I would like to work
towards . . . that type of relationship with you.”

He was stuttering,
searching for words, and I could tell he was desperately trying to
keep me there. My brain couldn't process everything at once. Wedding
rings and collars sounded like two completely different things to me.
But he was right, I didn't really understand. Perhaps I should have
allowed him to start the lessons, so I had a better idea of what he
was talking about.

“
So,
if I agreed to become your submissive, then it would kind of be like
we were dating?” I asked.

“
There's
a process to it that's a bit more complicated than that, but yes,
essentially, you would belong to me. We would be in a committed
relationship with each other.”

“
I
. . . really don't know what to say.”

“
If
you love me, as you say you do, then say yes.” His eyes had
returned to their normal empowered smoldering, as if he already knew
he had won.

“
Yes?”
I wasn't sure if it was an answer or a question. There was no doubt
in my mind that I wanted him. Heck, I admitted to loving the guy.
This wasn't the type of relationship I had hoped for, but I would do
anything to be by his side.

“
Good.”
He took my hands in his, then leaned down and kissed me on the cheek.
I was still in a daze, lost in the surrealism of the moment. “I
have a lot to teach you, and it will be a while before you earn my
collar, but I'm sure we'll both have a lot of fun getting there.”

I nodded, confused
but happy. Damien Reed was mine.

“
Do
you want to hang out for a while?” he asked, sounding more
casual.

“
No.
I think I'd rather go home. Sorry. I didn't mean to freak out on you.
I've just . . . been harboring these feelings for a while, and it's
really been tearing at me. All this time, I thought this was just sex
to you.”

“
Well,
now you don't have to worry about that anymore.” He smiled
warmly.

“
I
guess I don't.”

Slowly, the misery
was fading away, being replaced by giddy happiness at the thought of
all the lessons to come. Damien was a kinky freak and a sexual beast.
I couldn't wait to see all the interesting new techniques he wanted
to show me.

More than that
though, I was relieved that I could finally let my guard down. My
heart didn't need a wall of doubt built around it. I could open
myself to Damien completely, and we could begin a beautiful new
relationship together.

His Indecent
Training

THE QUESTIONNAIRE

There was an uneasy
feeling in my chest as I stared down at the submissive questionnaire
Damien Reed had given me. For the past few weeks, he had been
teaching me about sexual nature and fantasy. This would be taking
things a step further. Learning about BDSM would put our relationship
on a completely different level—a level I had wanted so badly
since first setting eyes on Damien Reed. He was handsome, dominant,
caring, and still a complete anomaly to me. More than anything, I
wanted to unravel his mystery—and become a part of it.

Initially, I hoped
for a normal relationship with him. But Damien Reed's desires ran
darker than that. I had tasted his carnal lust, pressed up against
the glass window of a public building. He had taught me that sex was
more than just a man and women coupled together. It could be so much
more—have so many different sensations.

I licked my lips,
thinking of all the things we had done together. Memories of being
blindfolded, and handcuffed, and forced to masturbate for him.
Everything he did to me brought a new wave of emotions and sexual
bliss. Before I knew it, I had become addicted to his
lessons—addicted to him.

This was the next
phase. The phase where I was more than just his student. The phase of
commitment. But it came at a price. Many of my normal everyday
freedoms would be stripped away. I would have to learn to obey his
every command, to be at his beck and call. Not his girlfriend, but
his submissive. In truth, I still wasn't sure that was what I wanted,
but I would do anything it took to be close to him, and if this was
the price . . .

On top of the
questionnaire was a letter. It read as follows:

To the submissive
under consideration:

You are reading
this letter because you have taken an interest in becoming a
submissive. The first part of the process is to fill out the
following questionnaire for examination and consideration. Many of
the questions are very personal. Please be advised that it is
important for you to answer all questions as honestly and thoroughly
as possible.

Part of being a
submissive is to be completely open with your Dominant. By accepting
this questionnaire, you have agreed to take the first step in that
process. All questions must be answered from the bottom of your
heart. There must be no falsified information or half-truths.

If you come
across a question that you don't understand, research the
information. It is your responsibility and first duty as a submissive
under consideration to fill out this questionnaire completely.
Failure to do so will result in consideration for your training to be
revoked.

The seriousness of
it twisted knots in my stomach. If anyone else had handed me such a
letter, I might have smirked or laughed. Damien Reed didn't play
games though. Every typed word was meant wholeheartedly, and I knew
that if things were going to work between us, then I had to be as
honest as possible, no matter how uncomfortable it made me or how bad
I might feel about my answers.

In truth, I had been
putting off filling out the questionnaire for a while. The sheer
number of questions on it made my head spin. Some of them were easy
to answer. Some of them, not so much.

It was down to the
wire though. I would be meeting with Damien Reed the following day to
go over my answers. Whether I liked it or not, the questionnaire
demanded my full attention if I wanted to belong to him. And I did
want to belong to him.

With a sigh, I
removed the staple from the stack of papers and filed the letter to
the back. The first page was a basic health questionnaire, asking me
about drug usage and medical conditions. For the most part, I was a
good girl. The only drug I had ever experimented with was marijuana.
I enjoyed it, but not enough to go out of my way for it. My medical
and psychological history was clean too. The only thing wrong with me
was bad vision, and I preferred to correct it with glasses, which
Damien already knew.