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Cum-uppance

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A reporter gets what she deserves.
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Amber sighed impatiently. The person she was writing the article on was due 10 minutes ago. She hated waiting.

This was unlike any other assignments she had ever had. The magazine wanted her to do something a little risqué, something sexual. She had chosen to do an expose on a person in the BDSM community. The problem was, of course, a lot of people in the community didn’t want to have their lives exposed in print. So she hung out in the local BDSM group chat room, under the guise that she was newly into BDSM but too shy to go to any of the local events.

What started out being research for an assignment ended up being so much more. When she did the story on the homeless children, she expected to get emotionally attached. But this…this was different. Damien made it different.

Damien was an unattached Dominant, well respected in the community. Amber decided to target him as the person she was going to write about. She approached him online and told him she was interested in becoming his submissive. Talking to him was her biggest wet dream come to life. He was able to know things about her—her fantasies, her thoughts, her desires. Things she had never told anyone.

But Damien was frustratingly quiet about himself. He wouldn’t even send her a picture. She didn’t know what he did or even if Damien was his real name, since a lot of people seemed to use aliases. So she suggested a meeting, to try to get him to open up, to give her something else that she could use in her story. At least, that’s what she told herself at the time…

Amber checked her watch again for the third time in five minutes. Perhaps he wasn’t going to show. The thought filled her with disappointment.

She was considering getting up to leave when something touched her cheek. Amber physically jumped, startled, and when she turned her head, a beautiful red rose entered her vision. A man held it out to her. Damien. He wasn’t handsome in the classic sense of the term, but there was something—magnetic about him. Intense. Hot. Erotic.

“Hello,” he said, and handed her the rose.

“Hi,” she answered with a smile, and took the rose from him. Her heart started racing, she kept smiling, feeling nervous.

Damien sat in the booth across from her, and regarded her with incredibly intense, dark eyes. Amber considered starting the conversation, but besides the weather, how-are-you, or something equally mundane, she couldn’t think of what to say. And why was he late, anyway?

“I can tell that you have a question, Amber. You may ask it,” his voice was low, deep, and sent shivers up her spine.

“You’re late,” she blurted out before she could stop herself

“Well, that’s hardly a question, but nevertheless, I will respond. I am not late. I told you to be at a certain time, and I did not say when I would arrive.” Amber could tell that Damien was regarding her closely, watching her response.

“Oh,” she finally said. She didn’t know what else to say.

“I have noticed from talking to you that you need to learn patience. The lesson has begun.” Amber felt herself sucking in her breath at the last statement. Why that would affect her, she didn’t know. She could feel her pussy grow wet.

The waitress arrived with two glasses of wine, and set one in front of each of them. Amber wondered when Damien had a chance to order it. Perhaps he had been there for awhile, watching her…

“So now, I have a question for you. Why is it that you wished to meet with me today?” he asked.

“Well, it’s like I said… you are…I mean, I wanted to see, well, I want to get to know you better.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m interested in…in a relationship with you.”

“What kind of relationship?”

“Um, well, a D/s relationship.”

“Interesting.” He sipped his drink slowly, watching her the whole time. Amber began to grow confused. They had discussed this already, why all the questions? “So tell me Amber,” he said after a moment of silence, “wouldn’t you say that obedience to the Dominant is important in a D/s relationship?” Instantly, Amber felt a blush hit her cheeks, and she realized what Damien was getting at.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Yes, what?” he demanded.

“Yes, obedience to the Dominant is important in a D/s relationship.”

“Yes, I would think that it would be,” he said, and continued to watch her with those dark, fathomless eyes. “But you haven’t been obedient, have you?” he asked.

“No,” she whispered, and looked away from his face as she took a long swallow from her drink.

“Look at me,” he commanded. “What were the instructions that I gave you?” Amber looked up into his eyes. She found the experience uncomfortable.

“I was to sit in the third booth from the left after entering the pub, I was to wear a short skirt and a button-up blouse, and….and…” she hesitated before she finished finally, “I was not to wear any underwear.”

“But you are wearing underwear,” he stated. Amber nodded. She had originally put on her clothes that morning without underwear, but she felt so exposed…naked practically, so she put them on. Then she thought about taking them off just as she arrived to the restaurant, but the thought of sitting in a public place with no underwear made her really uncomfortable. And besides, why should she take them off? It wasn’t as if she was really interested in becoming this man’s submissive, right? And what was he going to do if she didn’t follow his instruction to the letter anyway?

“I am very disappointed,” he told her. Instantly, Amber felt upset with herself. It really, really bothered her that he was disappointed, and she wasn’t sure why. She felt herself try to shrink into the seat.

“Will you excuse me a moment?” she asked.

“Why?” he asked

“I need to use the ladies’ room.”

“Oh, by all means, please do so.” Amber got up from the table. Once she got in the bathroom, she took off her bra and panties and stuffed them in the purse that she had thought to take with her. As she was doing so, she told herself it was just because she was playing a role, she was just trying to earn his trust. But she also wanted to please him—very, very badly.

Amber looked at herself in the mirror—a small red-headed woman whose hard nipples strained against the fabric of her blouse. Anyone who looked at her would be able to tell she wasn’t wearing a bra. She bit her lip, and considered putting her bra back on. In the end, she decided to button up her shirt all the way to the collar. It wouldn’t help much, but it somehow made her feel a little more protected.

Getting back to her table, she sat down, and took an unladylike drink of wine, trying to regain her composure. Amber felt a thrill flood her chest as Damien smiled at her. She had pleased him, and the knowledge filled her with happiness.

“Much better,” he said. Amber found herself smiling back at him. A silence followed. Why did it feel like he could look right through her? He seemed completely relaxed, so different from how she was.

“It’s really warm in here,” Amber commented to break the tension.

“You’d be cooler if your shirt wasn’t buttoned up to your neck,” Damien commented, amusement flickering in his eyes.

“You’re probably right.” There was a short silence.

“So unbutton it, Amber,” he told her. His eyes were so intense, she couldn’t look away. Slowly, her hands reached up, and her fingers somehow managed to unfasten the top two buttons of her shirt.

“Is that better?” he asked.

“Um…yeah, a bit,” she answered. Damien managed to keep her so off-balance, she was behaving like a 16 year old on her first date.

“Just a bit?” he asked, one eyebrow rising slightly.

“Yeah,” she said with a little flirty smile, trying to get back some of her poise. “Just a bit.” Damien just looked at her. The man was incredibly intense. She got the distinct impression that he was waiting for her to do something, and that she should know what it was.

“Perhaps you need to unbutton a few more,” he finally said.

“Yes, perhaps I do,” she smiled again, determined to play his game. She unbuttoned two more, until her shirt was undone all the way to between her breasts. Then she even parted her shirt slightly to give him a better view.

“Good girl,” Damien praised. Amber sucked in her breath sharply at that statement. A wave of pleasure swept through her entire body and centered between her legs. She felt herself get wet. And instantly she became confused. Why would that simple statement affect her so strongly?

It was about that time that Amber began to feel a little light-headed.

“What’s wrong?” Damien asked her.

“I feel a bit…strange,” she answered. She turned her head slightly, and the whole room shifted around her.

“Describe what you’re feeling.”

“Um, I feel, drunk, I guess.” The room was positively spinning by this point. Her lips were numb and she had difficultly forming the words.

“Then I will take you home.” Damien stood, dropped some bills on the table and pulled Amber to her feet.

“No, it’s alright,” the words came in a slur out of her mouth. Damien placed one arm around her waist and hauled her to her feet. She stumbled along beside him, helpless to do anything but go along with whatever he wanted. He laughed softly—she could feel it vibrating through his chest.

“Is she okay?” Amber heard someone ask. The voice seemed to come from very far away.

“She just had too much to drink,” he answered. “She’ll be fine.” Keeping on her feet was becoming more and more difficult, even with Damien’s help.

Amber found herself being pushed into the passenger side of a sports car. The seat was reclined back so that she was in a nearly horizontal position. Damien appeared next to her, in the driver’s seat. About that time, Amber lost consciousness.

When Amber woke up, she realized almost immediately that she was bound, spread-eagle on a bed, and that she was naked. She struggled briefly against her bonds, and tried to fight the feeling of panic that was welling up inside her. What was Damien going to do to her now? What happened to her while she was sleeping? She could feel a gasp of terror from escaping her lips.

“Fucking unconscious women is not my style.” The hard voice came from her right. She turned her head and saw Damien reclined in a chair, lighting a cigarette.

“How did you—” she began, but he cut her off.

“Everything you think shows on your face; how fortunate for me.” He studied her with that powerful gaze, not saying anything for a few minutes, until the silence grew so overwhelming Amber couldn’t stand it.

“I don’t suppose it would do any good to demand that you let me go,” she said, trying to remain calm, cracking a half smile while she said it. He raised an eyebrow and shook his head.

“What do you want with me?” She asked the question that she really wanted to know.

“Perhaps I’m going to kill you.” A streak of terror ran through Amber until she thought about that for a minute.

“Well, you wouldn’t have had to go through so much trouble for that. You could have killed me a long time ago.”

Damien smiled and gave a soft laugh. “Quite right. I could have. Perhaps I’m just giving you what you have coming to you.” Damien finished his cigarette and approached her. His hand reached out, and caressed her arm gently—running his fingers back and forth.

“Why are you doing that?” she asked softly. Damien didn’t answer her, and continued his ministrations on her arm. Her arm began to tingle, and tingle started to spread…

“Why are you doing that?” she asked again, sharply. She didn’t like how he was making her feel. She was his captive, for heaven’s sake. She should be repulsed by his touch.

“If you don’t be quiet, I’ll gag you,” he said. And she didn’t doubt for a minute that he meant it. “Why am I doing this?” he asked. “Well, because I wish to.” His hand moved up her arm, across the top of her chest, down between her breasts. She gasped, and struggled briefly. “I will tell you how things work here,” he said. “First of all, you will obey me. This is a simple rule. Do you understand?” His hand began to circle her breast, and now his other hand joined in.

“Yes,” she said softly. Instantly, pain spread through her chest as Damien grasped her nipples and pinched hard.

“Yes, what?” he asked. His voice remained deep and calm, and hard.

“Yes, I understand, Sir,” she cried out.

“Good girl,” Damien said. He began to gently rub her nipples, pleasure replacing the hurt he had caused. Again, Amber felt gratification at his praise, and became more and more perplexed by her body’s betrayal.

“Second, I will touch you wherever and whenever I want.” One hand continued to fondle her breasts, while the other hand moved lower and lower, until it reached her pussy. His fingers touched her gently there. She saw his eyebrows raise, and a smile spread slowly across his face.

“Is this exciting you?” he asked.

“No, Sir,” she said quickly.

“No?” he asked.

“No, Sir, this isn’t exciting me,” she said. A hard pinch on the inside of her leg made her cry out. “Another rule, Pet…don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying, Sir,” she cried. Amber felt another pinch, on the other thigh, even harder than the first.

“Your mouth says one thing, but your body says another.” Damien held up his fingers in front of her face, and she could see that they were gleaming with her wetness. His fingers pressed against her lips. “Suck them…and if you bite down, if you hurt me, I’ll make sure that you regret it.” Amber opened her lips, and Damien forced his fingers deep inside her mouth. She tasted herself and she tasted his salty skin. Amber sucked, her tongue swirling around his fingers.

“Well done, Pet,” he said, moving away from her for a moment. “If you didn’t say so, I would swear you were enjoying yourself. But, I will pretend for a moment that you aren’t excited—sexually aroused—that your cunt isn’t dripping wet. Why aren’t you excited? Hmmm?”

“This isn’t consensual.”

“Well now, that is odd, because this is what you said you wanted.” Damien’s hand returned to her pussy, rubbing it, his fingers entering her briefly. “This is one of your fantasies. This what we talked about—you, tied up, in my bed, spread open for my viewing, helpless, with me able to do with you whatever I wanted. Isn’t that what you said you wanted?” He paused for a moment, and made eye contact. “Unless, of course, you’re a tease…”

“I’m not a tease,” she immediately retorted. Damien’s fingers were tormenting Amber. She was breathing hard, trying to control her rising desire and failing.

“Oh, really? You’re not? Well then, you must be a reporter.” Amber froze. Damien ignored her response and continued to caress Amber’s pussy, flicking her clit. Amber tried to resist, but it didn’t take long before Amber was straining at her bonds, approaching orgasm. Her hips began to thrust against his hand. Even with her eyes closed, she knew that Damien was staring at her face, watching her reactions. Amber tensed her body, arched her back, and was just about to cum when Damien moved his hand away from her. She moaned, and bit her lip. Why was he doing this?

Damien stroked her breasts, her thighs, keeping her aroused. Then he returned to playing with her pussy until she almost came again. Her whole being cried out with the need to orgasm. She couldn’t stop making soft mewling noises, her hips rocked hard against the bed. The third time Damien did this; Amber couldn’t take it any more.

“Please,” she asked, the word was finally torn from her mouth.

“Please, what?”

“Please…don’t stop, Sir.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” she stopped, searching for the words. “Because I want to…I need to cum, Sir.”

“Oh, I see,” he mused. “Then perhaps you should beg for permission.”

“Please, Sir, please may I cum?” Damien’s fingers stopped. He moved until he was standing right next to her head.

“No, you may not.” Amber gave a small cry of frustration. Her body hummed with desire, need. Damien left Amber for a short period of time, and when he returned, he was naked.

Damien untied Amber’s wrists and ankles. Before she could even think about struggling, he roughly turned her over, one knee in the small of her back. Her wrists were quickly tied together behind her, and she was jerked her off the bed until she was kneeling at Damien’s feet.

Damien’s hand tangled in her hair on the top of her head.

“Now,” he said, “you will suck my cock until I tell you to stop, and you will do an excellent job of it. If you are very, very good, I will consider letting you cum.” He pulled her hair slightly until her head was tilted back and she was looking up at him. “Don’t forget the rule about hurting me. You will regret it.” Amber didn’t doubt his words for a second.

Damien’s hand pulled her head closer to him. She could smell him, a spicy smell, hard to describe. She liked it. Amber opened her mouth and obediently began to suck on his already hard cock. He guided her head, moving it back and forth at the rhythm he wanted.

At first, Damien gave her direction. “Don’t just suck, use your tongue. Lick around the head.” Amber followed all of his instructions. Amber wanted to be angry, to be unaffected, but she wasn’t…she could feel her juices flowing out of her, making her thighs wet, her ankles. She wanted to please him so he would let her cum. And she wanted to please him for the sake of pleasing him.

Damien began to move her head faster. With her hands tied behind her back, she had no control at all. She was helpless to do anything except what he wanted, move as he wanted. Damien began to thrust so deeply down her throat, she was almost gagging. Soon this was not enough for him. Damien’s hands clenched down on the sides of her head, holding it still. Amber was helpless to do anything except let him fuck her face. His cock grew harder and stiffer in her mouth, until his body arched back, and he cried out, a primal sound. Amber’s mouth was filled with hot semen, it spurted down her throat.

Damien stood still for a moment, patting Amber’s head softly. “Good girl. Good little cocksucker,” he told her.

Damien pulled Amber to her feet, and led her to an X-shaped cross leaning against the wall. He quickly untied her hands from behind her, and chained her wrists and ankles to the cross, until she was bound, spread before him

Damien caressed Amber’s hair, combing it with his fingers, his touch gentle and soft. “Such lovely hair,” he complimented. Suddenly, he grabbed a fistful of hair and jerked her head painfully backwards. Tears sprung to her eyes and she cried out in pain.

Damien pressed his mouth close to her ear. “Do you think I’m stupid, Amber?” he hissed in her ear. The sound reverberated through her whole body.

“No,” she cried.

“No, what?” he demanded, giving another sharp tug on her hair.

“No, I don’t think that you’re stupid, Sir.”

“Really,” he asked skeptically.

“Yes, really. Really, really.”

“That’s interesting.” He let go of her hair, and she rested her head on one of her raised arms. She didn’t realize she had been holding her breath until she started breathing again.

Her relief was short-lived. A sharp snap sounded right next to her head. Amber shrieked, and tried to move out of the way.

“Do you know what this is?” Damien asked. Amber shook her head no. “It’s a single-tail whip. It’s my favourite. Don’t worry, it won’t cut the skin.” Damien paused for a moment. “Unless I want it to.”

Damien swung the whip again. It felt sharp, it stung, but the feeling was brief. The crack and sting came four or five more times. Amber was beginning to relax—the sensation was surprising, but not really what she would classify as pain. She even felt herself beginning to grow wetter still, to get even more turned on, which she wouldn’t have thought possible.

“It wasn’t too hard to figure out,” Damien said. Another crack. This time the sting was intense—it hurt—and she cried out. “I’m naturally an untrusting person.” The whip came down painfully again. “Your computer’s firewall is very poor. You really should have that fixed.” The whip was moving faster, her back felt like it was on fire.

12


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