The Dawn of Darkness (Part 9)

Screaming.

I recalled a high pitched screaming, deep from within my chest, burning at my throat, tearing out of my body. There's a coppery smell that can only be blood. Stinging pain, muting every other sensation in me. Falling back limply. Conceding to the pain. What the fuck was going on in my head?

She was prancing around in nothing but those heels. Her ass jiggled with even the tiniest of steps that she took. I was laying on the couch, waiting for her to bring me food. She'd be attending to me all through the morning, rubbing my feet, not speaking a single word, just nodding and smiling. I barked order after order at her and she filled every single one of my demands. The day was stretching into the early afternoon and I was beginning to get bored. The memories shot into my system just as I was letting my eyes close.

Unremarkable was becoming a definition that no longer fit into the puzzle of my life. There were demons locked away inside of me and now they were clawing to escape. My stomach lurched. Suddenly the idea of having a willing servant was feeling less and less exciting. She could sense it as she dropped to the side of the couch and held out a bite of cheese for me to eat. Her eyes scanned my face. Her right eyebrow raised and her fingers trembled slightly as they got got closer to my mouth.

I leaned forward and bit the cheese, as well as the tips of her fingers. She yelped. I narrowed my gaze and her and she snapped her lips shut. I allowed a small smile to twist at the corners of my mouth. She hesitated for a brief moment and then pinched another piece of cheese in her grasp. Her hand drifted slowly to my face. She swallowed visibly. I shrugged my shoulders, rolled my eyes and dropped back onto the couch.

She sat back and sighed. "Have I done something wrong?" This was the first sentence that she'd spoken since telling me in the small hours of the morning that I'd been too rough with her. Any trace of confidence that she had formerly embodied was drained from her. She was acutely aware that her charms were wearing thin.

I pursed my lips slightly. "No." I thought about what the appropriate thing to say would be. I didn't have the motivation to play the master at the moment. Instead, I decided to give her the opportunity to humanize herself for me. To give me angles to exploit.

"I've been wondering about you. I know so little about who you are, where you come from. I want to understand you." She smiled slightly when she heard this. The key to most situations is to allow the other person to make it all about themselves. To give them the permission to be self-centered without the fear of judgment.

She began to tell me about her childhood. She told me about her premature birth, her mother, her mother's addictions. She rambled on about school, the other kids in school and how they acted towards her. Living with her grandmother. She talked proudly of how she worked the angles necessary to get into college. She offered me information so willingly. The stories poured out of her, jumbled together. It was if she was showing me every card in her deck. She even provided a self-analysis for me. It was so easy.

After an hour of non-stop talking, she paused and took stock of my expression. Her head tilted to the side slightly. I'd perfected that look that lets people feel like every word they are sputtering wildly is being valued. Her mouth formed a tight smile of contentedness. She dipped her head forward and placed her cheek on the back of my hand, then looked up at me with those eyes.

They almost crumbled my reserve. Those damn eyes. They could wreck me like a blow to the spine cripples a man. I ran my other hand over her forehead. She closed her eyes and purred.

"Let's go outside," I suggested, sitting up and swinging my legs off the couch. She stood and walked to the sliding glass door that opened into the minimal back yard. There was a hot tub crowding the tiny porch. The fence was lined with rose bushes, now all in full bloom. There were colors ranging from white to yellow to pale pink to the deepest of reds. She walked over the lawn, the heels of the stillettos sinking slightly into the soft ground. She approached one of the rose bushes, one that was filled with pink blooms. Her nose sank into the petals of one of the flowers and she inhaled its scent deeply. I walked to the far end of the lawn and eyed the bush with the red roses.

Yanking one free, I strode over to her and held it up in offering. As I neared her, my bare toe found one of the sprinkler heads. I looked down at it and images pounded into my temples. A twisted metal handle. A hatch door in the ground, approximately 2 feet by 2 feet. I blinked hard and the image disappeared. When I looked up, I could see her leaning forward to appraise my offering. I dragged it down over the front of her body. The thorns cut into her skin like a cat's claws. She gurgled a small surprised noise in her throat. I could see a trail of tiny beads of blood floating to the surface of her skin, from her shoulder to halfway down her left breast.

Before she could speak any protest, I grabbed her up in my arms and lowered my head to her chest, sliding my tongue over the trail and licking up the blood. Her eyes were wide with alarm.

"It was an accident. You stepped into it," my tone was strong and reassuring. Her eyes returned to a normal size. I looked over my shoulder to the hot tub. "Do you think that's heated?"

We went together to inspect it. The water was indeed warm. After a couple of minutes toying with the knobs, we determined how to turn on the jets. I lifted her up to sit on the side and removed her shoes. She swung her legs around and lowered herself into the water. I climbed in after her. I leaned my back up against her chest and she ran her nails over my head and shoulders, then started to massage me. Her touch was too light and began to irritate me.

"Suck my cock," I demanded. I got up off of her and moved to the opposite side of the hot tub. I put my hands behind my head and looked at her.

"Are you going to sit up higher?" she asked.

"Why would I need to?" She raised an eyebrow at me. "You can hold your breath, right?"

There was a hint of fear that passed over her at that moment, when she figured out what I was proposing. She hedged. I realized that it might have been a mistake allowing her to open up to me, explain who she had bee, who she had become. Perhaps humanization was not what this situation called for.

"Did I give you a choice?" I growled, falling back into the demeanor that I had displayed for her over the commencement of our affair. She shook her head, the tiniest of motions. "That's right. I told you to suck my fucking cock! Now do as I say and get to work!"

Her eyes glazed over. I could see that rebooting process occurring again. My mind seized that. She was going to do as she was told. She liked being told what to do. Giving up control. Not having to think. She wanted to be led.

She slid through the water and positioned herself between my knees. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her head dove beneath the water. The next sensation that I felt was her mouth wrapping around the head of my cock. I felt her lips form a tight seal and her tongue swish around my shaft. I let my head fall back. The jets were on my back, blasting away at the muscles lining my spine. There was foam floating on the surface of the water. Had a stranger wandered into the backyard at that particular moment, they wouldn't have been able to discern another person's presence.

She continued sucking and licking for the next couple of minutes. I could feel one of her hands lightly squeezing my sack. Then I felt her break suction and start to rise to the surface. Her head reappeared and she began to take deep, hard breaths. My cock ached. I had been very close.

"Get back to work!" I snapped. She was still panting. I pushed her head back down as she took in a deep gasp.

The feel of her mouth returned. I closed my eyes, but not for long. She returned to the surface after less than a minute.

"Why do you keep stopping? I'm never going to fucking cum if all you are going to do is tease me!" I glared hard at her.

She was coughing lightly. Water was dripping from the end of her nose. She wiped at it with the back of her hand. "I don't think I can do it," she panted. "I'm not very good at holding my breath."

"Well, then this is a good time to learn. Breathe!" The command startled her and she saw what was coming. She'd only gotten half of a breath in before I pushed her under the surface again. She struggled with me, not even attempting to go near my dick. I let her fight me for a couple of moments before letting her up.

Her eyes were red-rimmed from the chemicals in the water. There was an air of panic clinging to her. I softened my tone as I spoke again, reaching out and lightly running my thumb over her cheek.

"It's OK. It's not your fault that you're no good at sucking cock. It's an art form, and one where you possess no talent, I suppose." She blinked at me and began to protest, but I held a finger to her lips. "It's OK," I cooed. "You can't be perfect at everything."

Her mouth formed a hard line. I smiled internally. I knew that look. That was the look of stubborn determination. She wiped water off of her face and took three hard breaths. Keeping her eyes on my face, she dove beneath the water again.

I felt her sucking with wild abandon now. Her anger at me was thrilling, it even outweighed the minimal pain from her intensity. I felt her run her hands under my legs and force her body to stay beneath the water. My level of arousal tripled. When I felt vibration from her kicking the bottom of the tub in an effort to stay down for longer than her lungs wanted to allow her, I shot my load.

Reeling in the afterglow of my bliss, I barely registered her, leaning half out of the tub, coughing up water in a choking manner. There was a wet gurgle in her throat, and the next sound I heard was her throwing up whatever amount of water she'd swallowed.

"I guess you have some talent. We'll keep working on it though," I smiled as I spoke loud enough for her to hear me over the sounds of her retching.