Torture

Rachel Kramer Bussel had a novel idea to promote the release of her two new collections of erotica about domination and submission. (She’s on Top deals with female domination of male submissives; He’s on Top deals with male domination of female submissives.) The clever editrix is taking her books on a virtual book tour across the blogosphere. Each day this month, a different sex blogger will feature a tale of domination and/or submission.

Today, it’s my turn.

When my date was assigned, I noticed a happy convergence with two other events worth celebrating. One year ago this weekend, Avah entered her twenties. She entered my life on the same day.

Happy anniversary and happy birthday, Avah mine.

The door clicked shut.

Avah looked up. She grumbled and pulled her down comforter tight. She was dreaming, she was dreaming . . . she opened her eyes suddenly and looked at the clock. It was just after nine.

She sat up and reached for her glasses. Blinking the world into focus, she picked up her laptop and clicked it on.

She read over the instant messages from the night before.

The door clicked open. Avah looked up.

“Are you up?” a voice whispered.

“Yeah, I’m up,” Avah answered.

The door pushed open. “Surprise!” Avah’s roommate rushed in, holding a bouquet of mylar balloons. “Surprise, surprise! Happy birthday, happy birthday!”

Avah clapped. “Oh my God, you are too sweet!”

Tanya sat on Avah’s bed, laughing. “It’s a big birthday! You’re twenty! You’re not a teenager any more.” Tanya pulled the balloons overhead. “I was hoping to get these back before you woke up. They don’t have much of a selection here, but at least there was one that said ‘happy birthday.’ Oh, and this cute one with the bear.”

Avah giggled. “It’s really too sweet. You are just too much.”

Tanya handed over the balloons with an exaggerated flourish. Avah put down her laptop and took the bundle of ribbons.

A screen on the laptop was open.

Tomorrow you are mine, finally.

At ten thirty, Avah’s phone rang. She looked at the receiver and smiled.

“Hi, Mom!”

“Good morning, baby. I hope I didn’t wake you up?”

“Mom, I’ve been up for over an hour.” Avah pulled on the ribbon of a balloon, making the bear dance.

“Oh, good. I know you like to sleep in on the weekends, so . . . well, anyway, happy birthday, baby! I can’t believe how big you are!”

Avah laughed. “Thanks, Mom. So twenty years ago, that was a big day for you, huh?”

“Oh, I’ll say it was!” her mother laughed. “Did I ever tell you how long it took us to get to the hospital that day? God, the traffic was torture.”

“Only every year, Mom,” Avah smiled.

A little before noon, Avah put on her jacket and walked to the campus parking lot. She unlocked her car door, turned the ignition, and popped in a CD. For the first time, she drove into the city alone.

The traffic at the tunnel was torture.

She parked near the park where she played lacrosse most weekends. She walked to an unfamiliar apartment building. At the entrance, she reached into her pink bag and pulled out a slip of paper. She lifted the receiver on an intercom, looked at her paper, and dialed a code.

A man’s voice answered.

“Good girl. Come in, take the elevator, knock on the door.”

The intercom went dead.

The door buzzed. Avah walked into the building lobby.

She took the elevator. She arrived at the door. She looked down at her slip of paper, then up at the door. She drew a breath, straightened her hair, and knocked.

I opened the door, smiling.

“I can’t believe we finally meet,” I said. “It’s been weeks of torture. Come in, come in.”

Avah stepped into my apartment. I closed the door and stood close in front of her. I kissed her cheek, and then her lips.

I kissed her deeply.

“Avah,” I whispered. “Take off your coat.”

Avah stooped to put down her bag. She removed her coat and handed it to me. “Thank you,” I said. I dropped the coat on the floor.

“Avah,” I whispered. “Take off your clothes.”

Avah began to unbutton her shirt. She looked down as she worked the buttons, her cheeks flushing red.

I stood back, watching.

Her hands were steady as she handed me the shirt. “Thank you,” I said. I dropped the shirt on the floor.

She looked up at me. I kept my eyes on hers, waiting. She had very pretty eyes, I noted.

Avah looked down, and began to unfasten her jeans. Her blush deepened as she unzipped. She wriggled her hips as she worked the tight jeans down her thighs.

She stepped from one leg, and then the other. She handed her jeans to me. “Thank you,” I said. I dropped the jeans to the floor.

Avah stood before me, stripped to her underwear. Her pale flesh looked vulnerable and exposed, still marked by the pink striations from the folds in her clothes. I stepped forward, lightly touching her thighs. They were still cold from the outdoors.

“Close your eyes,” I whispered. “Let me look at you.”

Lids lowered over Avah’s pretty eyes.

“Hands to your side, please.”

Avah’s arms dropped to her hips. I gripped her wrists in place, reassuring her that she was doing very well. I kissed her cheek, and released her wrists.

I stood back a few steps. I would take my time to admire the body Avah had delivered to me. She was pale, but her paleness differed from my own. My pale is blue and paper-thin; you can see right through to the veins and bones inside. Avah’s pale was pink and rosy, her flesh soft and full of life; even now, covered in goosebumps, her body exuded warmth and fecundity.

I stepped forward, touching the cheek of a child’s face. My hand dropped to touch the belly of a woman’s body.

I slowly walked around her body. I reached around her back to her belly, moving up to cup her small breasts. As I gripped her breasts, my erection pressed against my jeans.

I unfastened her bra, allowing it to fall to the floor.

Avah twitched slightly.

I returned to view the front of her body. Her breasts were such morsels, such a contrast to her full hips and ass.

I took her panties in hand and pulled them down. Avah flinched, but held her position.

I crossed the room and sat. I looked to her, recording her in my mind’s eye.

I have an excellent visual memory. I would retain this moment for later recall.

For now, I would take the time to savor the reality I would later revisit.

In my time, I called her name. “Avah. Drop to your knees.”

Avah lowered herself hesitantly, using her hand to guide her blind eyes. Her knees felt the cold of an unfamiliar wooden floor.

I stood. “Spread your legs.”

Avah spread her knees.

“Hands on the floor, palm down.”

Avah leaned forward, splaying her hands on the floor.

“No,” I corrected. “Head up.”

Avah arched her back, raising her head.

I took her chin in my hand. “Good,” I commended, my voice low. “Now, keep your eyes closed. I’m giving you my cock. Your introduction to this cock will not be visual. First, you will feel it in you . . .” I unzipped my jeans. “ . . . smelling it, tasting it . . .” I took her jaw in my hands and squeezed, forcing her mouth open. “ . . . learning it.”

I pushed my cock slowly into her mouth. Slowly, fraction by fraction, I slid myself beyond her lips, over her tongue, into her throat.

Avah gagged, but only slightly.

I pulled back and slapped her face. “No gagging.”

Avah furrowed her brow. She breathed deeply and exhaled.

“Good.” I began to ease back into her, beyond her lips, over her tongue, into her throat.

I held myself in her.

“Good, good . . .” I commended, petting her hair.

I kept myself in her, petting her. She couldn’t breath, yet she didn’t complain.

I can use her, I thought.

I pulled back slightly, clearing her throat, but keeping myself deep in her mouth. Her nostrils flared as she inhaled. She exhaled rapidly, then drew another breath.

Even as she struggled for oxygen, her tongue never ceased to swivel under my cock.

Good. I like perseverance.

I pulled out and tucked my cock back into my jeans. I zipped up.

I leaned forward. “Avah,” I whispered into her ear. “You are doing very well.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. I realized that I had barely registered her voice in our first moments together.

Good. I like quiet moments.

I put my fingers in her mouth. Her lips closed tight on my knuckles.

“All fours,” I commanded. “Eyes closed. Follow me.”

I walked backwards, using Avah's jaw as a handle as I guided her to my bedroom.