Bdsm Sex Stories Page 4

  "Say you want me," she breathed, her voice hard.

  "I want you."

  "Say you need me."

  "I need you, Rachel. Please!"

  "Beg for it."

  "I...please, Rachel. Please, I need..."

  Rachel did something then that I won't ever forget. It wasn't entirely pleasant, but it aroused me further nonetheless. I didn't understand any of it. Not why she did it, or why part of me liked it. She released my wrists and slapped me, hard, across the face.

  "Say that you belong to me. Say it!"

  Rachel's voice had lost the affection that it had only moments before. All that was left was hunger and an aggressive dominance that, to be honest, frightened me a little. Inside, I knew that I deserved the punishment. I knew somehow that I had been bad, and this was what I deserved. I was simultaneously more aroused than I'd ever been, and also close to tears with emotions I didn't understand.

  "I'm yours, Rachel. I belong to you. Please...please stop it."

  Just like that, Rachel was herself again, looking down at me with familiar affection and new want. Something dark had passed over us, and I wouldn't understand it for many years. She kissed me, deeply, her hands on the side of my face, my arms around her back. She met my eyes as she reached down and guided my cock inside of her. This time we moaned together. I never understood how much she had wanted me.

  "Fuck, Reuben, you feel like steel inside of me...and you're so hot. God..."

  Rachel fucked me then. She was on top and in charge, and that felt right, at least for our first time. She knew what she was doing. Her body flexed, and her hips rolled, and her internal muscles squeezed my cock. I groaned and responded, and my hands explored her breasts, squeezing gently then roughly. She preferred the latter, and soon I was fondling her body hard enough to leave bruises. I didn't want to hurt her, not really. I just wanted to do what pleased her.

  After what seemed like hours but was probably only a few minutes, we were both close. Rachel wasn't moving in the same way but was simply bringing herself up and down on my cock. I had my hands on her waist and was helping her move, up and down, harder and faster, and with more need.

  "Rachel, I'm going to..."

  "Do it, baby. Cum inside me, please. Please, Reuben, please cum inside me. I need it, and I'll be good for you, so good just cum inside me and..."

  I did cum, and even then, a part of me wanted to truly fill her and make her pregnant. I'm sure a lot of that was just my eighteen-year-old hormones, but some of it was something more profound. I knew that she was for me, or I at least wanted her to be. I groaned as I did so, too focused on pleasure to speak.

  "Oh god, Reuben, yes, god, yes, I love you!"

  One last time, Rachel's body turned rigid and shook, her pussy milking my cock of every last drop, squeezing and pulling my cum out of me. I felt myself still thrusting up inside of her, even as I knew I was dry. Then it ended, and she fell, almost limply, down on me, kissing me on my lips and face and forehead and neck.

  "That was so good, Reuben. So good. Thank you so much."

  I couldn't respond. I felt all kinds of emotions pour through me, and the largest of them was definitely love. Real love. The first, if not the strongest, of my life. I think she felt it too. After a few moments, she rolled off me, releasing my cock. She settled in beside me. I had expected for her to lay on my chest, but instead, she guided my head until it rested on her breast. Then she sighed as she played with my hair. I was so full of love for her that I was almost in tears. I was embarrassed. Men weren't supposed to behave like this, or so I thought.

  "I don't want this to be one time," I said, admitting my fear, now that we'd fucked.

  "Me neither," Rachel answered, "but we have to keep this a secret. I could get in trouble, and I guess you could too."

  "I won't tell anyone. Ever."

  "I know you won't. I trust you completely. I'm sorry for hitting you, Reuben. I'm so sorry. I...I guess I thought you might like it. Someone did something like that to me, my first time. I guess I didn't like it either, not really, but it turned me on a lot. It still does when someone hurts me during sex."

  Finally, I understood something about Rachel that I hadn't before. It wasn't a particularly deep understanding, but it was real. She was three years older than me, and much more sexually experienced, but not all of those experiences had been positive for her.

  "I...I forgive you. I loved everything else. I love you, Rachel."

  "I love you too, Reuben. Even more than..." Rachel trailed off then, and I realized that she had been close to saying something that she didn't want to admit. I looked up, and pain and guilt flashed across her face, briefly.

  We slept together that night, never far apart, always touching or holding one another. We woke and made love twice more, once fiercely, and once slowly and tenderly. When I woke up, she had left me for her own room, but her side of the bed was still warm, and her scent lingered in the air.

  Our relationship only intensified from there.

  * * *

  Welcome Home

  * * *

  I rested uneasily in my old bed. The room had been redecorated, but Isa assured me that my childhood things had never been discarded. I didn't have much interest in them as any memories I had associated with them were not of the nostalgic variety. When I had left home, the room had been a discordant shade of light blue and full of old dressers and antique furniture. Now it was done in a modern minimalist style. The color was a relaxing forest green, which Isa knew was my favorite. I had spent a lot of time out in the woods surrounding our estate when we were growing up. We both had.

  I slept a few times but only for an hour or so at a time. I had nightmares of events, both real and embellished by childhood fears. In one, the corpse of my long-dead father crept in through the window while I slept and then ate me. In the logic of the dream world, I then somehow became him, which was worse than being simply consumed.

  It would be fair to say that I was terrified of being here. I knew that Isa wasn't lying to me directly, but she was leaving something out. Could this be related to some strange requirement of the will? I didn't know, but I was sure that I would find out.

  Eventually, I gave up on sleep. I pulled on some old pajama pants and a shirt and padded down the long carpeted hallways. I passed a maid doing some overnight cleaning. I was going to say hi, but then she spun neatly in place, faced the wall, and looked down. From my own memories, I knew that here eyes would be closed tightly.

  I sighed again. Yet another depraved De Heer tradition. In many manors, the servants would have been required to curtsy, even in this day and age. Here, the maids and administrators, while few in number, were selected and informed that they would be expected to service the residents or anyone the residents specified, in any way they chose. There was no coercion (in theory anyway), and the compensation was incredibly generous. My father always found it to be an ethical solution, given that the women were selected based on a psychological predilection for submission and a need to be used.

  It still felt wrong to me, perhaps because I'd seen how my father treated them. It was one thing to objectify someone in play. It was quite another to regard human beings as nothing more than something to be discarded. All of the staff signed waivers/contracts demanding non-disclosure and providing for a significant payout to loved ones in the "unlikely event of death or permanent injury."

  There was a nice girl who went by Raja, a few years older than I was. When I was seventeen, I awkwardly flirted with her, but nothing ever came of it. One day she was simply gone. When I asked my mother, she simply said that Raja quit. I later found suspicious stains in the corner of her small room, missed when whoever had cleaned up had taken the sheets and mopped the floor nearby to a mirror shine. Just one of many crimes I suspected my father had committed. Casual exercises of power that he believed he had a birthright to. Truthfully, it was only my cowardice that prevented me from standing up to him sooner. I believed that he would have h
ad me killed if I became enough of a nuisance.

  I found myself letting my hand run down the maid's back. She shivered, and it wasn't from disgust. I realized then that there probably hadn't been many men here recently. If she had both a tendency and a need to be submissive, then she was probably very pent up. Why, if I fucked her, I'd probably be doing her a favor.

  I jerked my hand back, disgusted with myself. Some of that might be true. And yeah, I'd had sex with the staff here before, when I turned eighteen. I justified it by being less of an ass than my father, but that was a low bar. I caught him once brutally fucking a girl my own age right in the hallway, in the middle of the day.

  I wanted to apologize, but I knew it wouldn't make any sense. Instead I just sighed and continued down the hall. The truth was that it had been a while for me as well. Nina had met someone that she was serious about, and when one of use was seeing someone else, we didn't cheat.

  I walked down the long halls to one of the back stairways. I always felt ridiculous using the massive twin staircase in the main foyer. I managed to make it to the kitchen without any more encounters with the staff. Most were asleep, and it appeared to me like there were far fewer working here than there had been earlier. I wondered if the family had fallen on hard times or perhaps with father's death, they didn't need as many around. Many did tend to quit after only six months or so.

  Most of the furnishings in the kitchen were different than when I'd last been here, including the large stainless steel refrigerator which gleamed in the dim light that I turned on. I opened it, expecting to have to dig around a bit, but there, stacked on the left, was proof of Isa's planning. There were simple foods there, but I knew then that she had indeed been monitoring me, and that she had paid attention to my eating habits.

  Yogurt, cheese, meats, berries. All simple and at least somewhat healthy things that I enjoyed. She'd even had the kind of soda that I preferred, Cheerwine, shipped in. I was at once both touched and a little bit taken aback. Isa hadn't had to do this. She had her plan to trap me here, where she could keep an eye on me. At least she intended to keep me a little comfortable.

  I took a small package of raspberries and a soda and turned around to leave. I almost dropped them in shock. There was someone in the kitchen with me, standing beside the sink.

  She looked unsure, like a deer caught in headlights. I got the impression that half of her wanted to run out the door, and the other half wanted to just stay still and hope that I wouldn't notice her. I probably should have nodded a greeting, apologized, and gone straight back up to my room, but I didn't. The truth was she was rather striking in appearance.

  I'd never seen her before, of that much I was sure. She was really too young to have been working here when I lived here. I guessed her age at twenty-one, maybe twenty-two. She was short, if not petite, and even in the dim light I could see that she had striking platinum blonde hair. Her face was heart-shaped, and where Isa's was beautiful but sharp, this woman's expression was open, giving. Her glacier-blue eyes were wide with something like shock and she held her arms across her chest. Belatedly, I noticed that she was dressed rather formally for the hour. A simple white blouse with what looked like light blue designer's jeans. She even wore heels.

  "I'm sorry!" Her voice expressed dismay that wasn't called for. Then again, she probably knew who I was. And if she knew me, maybe she had known my father as well. Perhaps the reaction wasn't so extreme after all. She looked down but didn't turn around as I had expected.

  I put my food down on the counter and extended my hand, doing my best to smile warmly.

  "Hi," I said, "I'm Reuben. I guess I just moved in."

  Her eyebrows raised, but she shook my hand firmly and professionally. It was the kind of handshake you gave before presenting to the board.

  "Oh," she said, "I know who you are. I guess I wasn't expecting to see you in the kitchen at this hour. Isa, I mean...um, Ms. De Heer usually calls if she wants something from down here. I'd just finished up the last of my, um, tasks, and I was going to eat something and go to bed."

  "By all means, then, don't stop on my account," I said, holding the berries out to her. She took one very carefully, much like an animal that desperately wanted to eat and befriend someone but didn't entirely trust them yet. Her caution was advisable, and not just because of family history, but because I had an agenda. If she was on a first-name basis with my sister, then I wanted to know more about her.

  "Oh," she said with almost a comical expression of embarrassment after quickly eating the berry, "I forgot to tell you my name. I'm Sarah Huriens. I'm your sister's personal assistant. I set up everything to her specifications, once she told me that you'd be staying here for a significant part of your time."

  "She must be working you very hard if you have to eat this late."

  Sarah blushed almost immediately, telling me what kind of work she had been doing for Isa. I shoved away my mixed feelings of both arousal and jealousy. Those days were well behind me now. That being said, there was something very appealing about this woman beyond her attractive appearance. Perhaps it was her seeming eagerness to please or the way her face projected kindness.

  Or maybe it was just the part of me that was like my father, scenting innocent prey.

  After a moment, I realized that we were standing in silence, and Sarah's eyes had turned down again.

  "Well, I apologize for getting in your way," I said at last, "it was nice to meet you, and I'm sure that I will see more of you, soon."

  "Oh, thank you, sir. Please don't think anything of it. It was wonderful to meet you, sir."

  I chuckled at her formality as I left. I had gotten used to the way real people lived.

  "Call me Reuben, please, at least when it's just the two of us. I don't want to get you in trouble with my sister, but everyone here seems to regard me as something to fear, and if you would be all right with it, I'd like to have the chance to prove to at least one other person here that I'm not."

  "Yes, sir, er, Reuben. Yes, I would love to get to know you better. Until you get your own assistant I believe I will be filling in. I've been looking forward to meeting you, to be honest. Your sister speaks very highly of you."

  Well, I won't pretend that didn't shock me, but I covered it up, waved good night, and snuck back upstairs with my snack. As I ate, I found myself unaccountably optimistic. Sarah had given me something to look forward to, and try as I might to keep my thoughts gentlemanly, it was effortless to imagine her full lips on my body, and what she might look like out of her clothes.

  I sighed, pledged to whatever spirit looked out for me that I would be at least somewhat good, and then lay down.

  I slept surprisingly well.

  * *

  The following day I woke up to the leftovers from my snack, having disappeared. The maids here had always been like ninjas, cleaning whenever you weren't looking. I found it a little creepy now that I was an adult, and I wondered if locking the door at night would make any difference.

  I had woken up naturally around seven am, the time I usually got up to get ready to go to work. Although it was a Sunday, I typically tried to keep a regular schedule, because otherwise getting up for a morning class on Monday could be a real pain. I supposed that I wouldn't be doing a lot of teaching now. I realized that I should probably quit or go on sabbatical. Isa's arrangements aside, they might need to backfill for someone who couldn't be there often. Though it hurt a bit, Nina and the rest of my friends would probably be safer with some distance from me.

  I went downstairs and found a maid waiting for me. She was young, even younger than Sarah, and she smiled and gestured for me to follow her. Wordlessly she led me into a small room that I recognized as my mother's office. It had been redecorated a little bit but was otherwise very similar. A single working desk with what looked like a modern laptop sitting on it, a table that could seat two had breakfast and a large binder on it. I smiled in understanding, and the maid left me there, closing the door behind h
er. The room had the same decor, tasteful and relaxing greens and browns which matched the trees that I could see out the picture window. I stepped closer and enjoyed the early morning view of the lake. A crane patiently waded in the shallows, eager to find its own breakfast.

  I sighed, sat down, and began to eat and chug coffee while leafing through the binder. I knew what was expected of me. Truthfully, I preferred digital media, but I suspected that there were things in here that no one wanted me to have access to in a digital format just yet.

  The binder was a complete layout of the De Heer organization as it currently was. It had an excellent introduction, which took me through the changes, sales, and acquisitions that things had undergone in my absence. It wasn't poorly written, either. Before I knew it, I had a better understanding of what was going on that I ever had when I was a resident at the mansion. When I heard a knock at the door, I was startled to have realized that almost two hours had passed.

  "Come in," I said, standing up and stretching.

  "Good morning, sir...I mean, Reuben," Sarah said, poking her head around the door. Her smile in the morning light was brilliant and eager. She wore a beautiful blouse that showed a bit of cleavage and a tight white skirt that made it just above her knee. Around her neck was a simple silver chain. I found myself cheering up already.

  "Have you come to test me on what I've learned?"

  "Actually, I'm here to get you for your morning meeting with Ms. De Heer. I mean Isa. You'll be meeting with her every morning on the weekdays that you're here and having dinner with her every evening. I know that today is Sunday, but we have a lot to catch you up on. After the meeting, you and I will sit for a while, and I'll help you get up to speed."