The Dawn of Darkness (Part 6)

The days between our study sessions we had no contact with each other. I tried not to think about what she filled her days with, and everything that happened in my own life seemed to be under a hazy finish, just waiting to be graced again with her luminescence. I attended classes, talked with friends, ate and slept. I tried to keep myself occupied until we could meet again.

I also tried to keep my mind void of any predetermined acts. The first night in the hotel room was vaguely planned, but there was a large part of me that wanted to keep whatever happened between us in the future as uncalculated as possible. The ally had been something entirely off the cuff, and it was the thoughts of this that swirled most in my mind. The possibility that she might turn it down, walk away, revulsed. That was the part that thrilled me the most. Finding the thing that would test her limits.

She called on Friday afternoon, an hour before we were supposed to meet and asked to change our designated location. She had been asked to housesit for some friends for the weekend, in a neighborhood outside of the college community. It was a 45 minute drive away, and she asked if I could pick her up and take her there. I agreed. While gathering up the books that we were going to need for our studies, curiosity overflowed my mind. A new place, foreign to me but not to her. My imagination was ripe with the potential of it.

She fiddled with the stereo as we drove, the sun slowly setting and flooding the car with a rich glow. Her features were positively angelic in the light. I had to consistently remind myself to keep my eyes on the road, to not look at her, to not become impaired by her beauty. I'm in charge, I'm in charge, I'm in charge, my mind repeated. If there was ever a time to remember this, it was now.

The house was a standard little box of a structure on a street lined with similar domiciles. There were small lights leading up the pathway to the front door. She pulled a key out of her purse and let us both in, flipping on the light in the front hallway. The living room was filled with an IKEA lover's dream, pre-fab monstrosities that were barely passable as furniture. The dining room table was draped with a table cloth ruby red in color. I sat in one of the chairs and discovered that they were much too low for the table.

She had brought a small bag with her, full of clothes for the weekend, I imagined. She excused herself and wandered down the narrow hallway to drop it in a bedroom. I fingered the marigold colored napkins, neatly rolled in ugly little napkin holders that could only have been handmade by the owner. Hand strung beads on elastic cord. How domestic.

She returned a few minutes later, strolling into the room with confidence. She'd removed all of her clothing and stood before me, right hand on her hip, full of pride and confidence. I swallowed hard. This was outside of what I was prepared for. Up until this very moment, she'd been the picture of submission, willing to only jump on my instruction to do so. My brain began to chew over the thought that she was hoping for our situation to form into something new. A shred of disappointment clawed at my heart.

She had let her hair go natural for the evening, her honey blonde curls in wild disarray. As she stood before me now, I noticed an elastic band on her wrist. She lifted her arms and haphazardly pulled her hair into a ponytail. Her shoulders were strong and wide-set. I found myself drawn to the masculine nature of them. She took her hands and slid them down her sides, caressing her breasts briefly before sliding them down her stomach and hips. They continued to her thighs, and she began to bend down. I watched as she crouched onto the floor.

That's when I noticed it.

I'd seen items similar to this on an HBO special, one that had detailed the fetishes of a certain group of enthusiasts. There was a tail protruding from behind her, undeniably affixed up her ass. A horse's tail. She rolled her head around in a circle and gave a small snort and whinny. I tilted my head to the side, uncertain as to what to do next.

She began to make her way over to me, slapping the palms of her hands on the floor in a clopping sound. She came over to my side and shook her head wildly. Her ponytail bobbed. She looked up at me with those eyes, with that stare. Before I could fully comprehend what was occurring, I had reached down with my hand and was stroking the side of her face. She whinnied again in satisfaction.

Suddenly I bolted straight up from my chair, nearly knocking it backwards. This was displeasing. I had not requested this, had not made this a part of our game. Sure, she wanted me to control her as an owner would control a pet, but it was she who had brought this act into our affair. That would make her the one in control, the one in power. I shook my her violently from side to side, as if in an attempt to dislodge it from my thoughts.

"No," I muttered, irritation seeping into my tone. "Not acceptable."

I was down on her in a flash, yanking the tail from her ass. A small bulb was exposed as the article holding it in place. A small wheeze of shock escaped her. I wrapped an arm around her waist and yanked her up. I pushed her over the table, bending her body in front of me. I began to spank her ass wildly. My hand stung as I delivered blow after blow to her buttocks. She whimpered softly, but did not voice any outrage. I wheeled her around so that she could face me. Tears streaked her cheeks.

I raked a shaking hand through my hair. "Who..." I was on the verge of stuttering. "Who is in charge here??" I demanded. Her mouth opened, but words failed her.

"WHO??" I yelled, driving my face up into hers. "Tell me now!"

"You are," her voice was barely a whisper.

"What? I couldn't hear you. I asked you who was in charge."

Her eyes were downcast. "You are," she repeated.

"Look at me when you answer me."

Her eyes raised to my face. She stared into my eyes. I was shaking hard, gasping at air like I had been drowning. She blinked. "You are. You are in charge."

I sighed deeply. "That's right. So who gets to decide what our games are?"

"You do."

"Did I tell you to be my horse?"

"No."

"Why would you assume that I would want you to be my horse?"

Silence. Then, tentatively, "I thought you might like it."

"I'll tell you what I like," my voice was returning to its full strength. I leaned in and lightly wrapped the fingers of my left hand around her throat. I sniffed at her neck. She smelled like vanilla. I took a deep breath and inhaled the scent of her. Her body became very still.

"Tell me," she implored in a hushed tone. "Please. Please tell me what you like. Tell me and I'll do it. I'll do anything. Tell me what to do. I'll do it. ANYTHING."

I closed my eyes. My cock was pulsating rapidly inside of my jeans, painful and yet deliriously pleasurable. The sound of her words echoed in my ears, sweeter than anything I'd ever heard before, dripping like honey through my thought processes.

I pulled back and looked her in the eyes. She was peering at me with hesitation and hope. I lunged forward and enveloped her mouth with mine, jabbing my tongue into her mouth, less of a motion to kiss her than one to eat her face off. If I could have ingested her, her visage, her presence, I would have. I would have swallowed her whole.

She returned my embrace in full, letting her own tongue swirl around mine, trying to keep up with my hunger. My hands gripped at the back of her neck, pulling her into me. I ground my body against hers, enjoyed the softness of her limbs, the inviting nature of her stature. Her breasts smashed up against my chest and I could feel her hard nipples through my shirt. I ran my hands down off of her neck and grabbed ferociously at them, twisting the handfuls of flesh. A thought instantly sprang into my head. I tore myself away from her.

She leaned back against the table, panting. I scanned the floor until I saw what I was looking for. The tail was not far from where we stood. I retrieved it and began to whip at her breasts. The thin strips of suede glanced off of her skin and left light pink lines across her flesh. Her nipples hardened into rocks. She gasped and moaned even while slightly recoiling from the blows. My arm came down in horizontal motions, giving equal attention to each breast. When her skin began to glow bright red, I stopped and lowered my arm, allowing the tail to slip out of my grasp and drop to the floor. She was breathing hard. I was fighting for air.

I ripped open my jeans and freed my cock. I pushed her back onto the table and slid into her, fucking her fast and hard. I twisted at her sore nipples while slamming into her, relishing the feel of her pussy as its muscles flexed over the length of me. I fucked her until I was seconds from cumming and then retracted and turned away from her. She sat up in confusion, reaching a hand out toward me. I slapped it away. I gulped down lungfuls of air until I had steadied myself and regained my composure. I turned to face her again.

"Why...." she started to ask, but I reached forward and clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Why? Why? Do you really think that a girl who has been as naughty as you deserves my cum?" She shook her head softly. "You need to earn it. You need to work for it." I was yanking up my pants as I spoke.

"And you're going to have all weekend to get that opportunity."