Free Will

II

Her apartment was beautiful and elegant, a lamp in the living room revealed dark art deco wood and chrome. She led me to the middle of the rug, walked several paces away, turned and said, “Take off your clothes.”

At first I was paralysed with embarrassment. I watched her slowly removing her gloves; she teased the ends of each finger; revealing patience, deliberation. She turned and looked at me, her eyes scanning from top to bottom. How on earth had this young woman cultivated so much confidence?

“If I have to tell you something more than twice you must leave.”

I began to undress.

She paced back and forth several times; I watched her legs, her body, as I removed my clothes.

“Not like that, don’t just toss them on the floor. Fold them. Put them on that chair,” I took my trousers and shirt, folded them neatly and piled them on the chair. “Those too.” She said pointing to my underwear.

Naked, I stood with my hands by my side and watched as she picked up my clothes from the chair. She stared down at my penis, it was swollen and felt hot, but was not yet standing to attention.

“If that is not hard as a stone by the time I return, there will be trouble.”

*

She returned swinging a key on a chain, her eyes were fixed on my cock. She had caught me stroking it, I felt embarrassed and let my hands drop to my sides. It was hard, just as she had ordered. Her face was expressionless, cold.

“Clasp your hands behind your back,” I did as she told me. She reached down to take my penis in her hand; squeezing it hard she pulled the skin back forcefully to reveal the head. It glistened with my excitement; a long, drooling droplet was forming. “Still believe in free will?” She ran two fingernails along the underside of my erection, scraping over the most sensitive part; collecting the oozing issue from my penis. She brought her fingers to my lips, “Clean my fingers”.

Her voice was flat, matter of fact; but direct, an order. The thought of my own fluids did not repulse me; actually the thought of being made to lick her fingers excited me more than anything, but I dared to test her.

I remained motionless, staring into her eyes, my mouth firmly closed. She grinned and gently cupped my testicles with the other hand. “Lick”. I did nothing. She began to squeeze, gripping just above the testicles and pulling downwards. “Lick”. Still I waited, but not for long. She began to close her fingers onto the sensitive orbs, digging her fingernails into the soft flesh. I gasped with the pain. I closed my eyes and took her sticky fingers into my mouth; she didn’t stop squeezing me until they were clean.

“Let me tell you, that is the last time you test me. Remember I told you I if I had to tell you something more than twice you were out on the street?” I nodded. “Well get out.” She pointed to the door. “My clothes…” I stammered.

“Get out.” She walked to the door and opened it, a blast of cold, damp air. She threw the key at me “get your clothes and get out.”

I’m not sure what came over me, but I suddenly realised that I couldn’t leave this woman. It was the feeling of displeasing her, of not living up to her directive. I sank to my knees.

“Please, I’m sorry I beg you, please let me stay”. She slammed the door shut and walked to stand directly in front of me.  The source of the musky smell I had caught earlier this evening was now centimetres from my face; heady combinations of sweat, stale urine and sexual arousal.

“I was going to just make this evening an example to you of how weak you are, to show you how easily manipulated a man like you is by a beautiful woman. I was also going to reveal to you a secret, that I could train your mind and teach you strength of will.”

She ran her fingers into my hair and moved towards me, pulling my head back so she could push her fragrant sex onto my face. Through the silk of her dress I could feel her labia upon my lips, “Do not dare to move your lips”. All I could do was inhale; I’d never smelt such a strong, arousing scent. She nudged a foot between my knees.

“Open your legs.” I did as she asked, and she began to grind her heel against my penis, alternating with bouncing my testicles on the tip of her patent leather shoe.

“You’ve managed to annoy me, if you stay I’m going to make this much more painful than I was originally intending too.” She pushed my erect penis up against my thigh, grinding the heel into its flesh. “Do you wish to stay?”

I had no idea it was possible to feel this way. My mind was consumed by the smell of her sex. All I could think about was being able to taste her, to have her. I would do anything for her at this point; submit in a way I never knew was possible. I moaned into her sex and nodded assent.

“You may stop what we are doing at anytime. You have simple to ask and I will give you back your clothes and you may leave. However, if you choose to do this, you will never see me again, ever. Do you understand?”

She was pressing against my face, rubbing up and down; I could feel the material of her dress becoming slick and sticky on my mouth. Later I would marvel at the speed of my decent into submission, and the latent power of sexual arousal.

I closed my eyes, moaned yes into her wetness and nuzzled a nod. I felt as though I had been drugged.