Teach Me Tender, Teach Me Rough Page 11

  “Cameron, thank god,” he said, giving her a hug.

  She half expected him to ask about the limo or maybe even be upset, but all he did was take her by the hand and lead her inside. He kept saying over and over how he had realized how much she really meant to him and how he would do whatever it took to keep them together.

  Cameron couldn’t take it anymore. She finally interrupted him from across the table. “I slept with another man,” she said.

  Craig blinked, as if waiting for a punch line. He had been holding both her hands in his, just moments ago talking about their future, white picket fences and children, and now…it was like the foundation of his world had just crumbled.

  “Cameron…what are you saying?”

  As though it weren’t self explicit enough.

  “I fucked someone else, okay? It happened last night…”

  Craig released her hands. “Who was it?”

  He was speaking slowly, in that measured tone he always used when he didn’t want to become emotional. They had always laughed about how she was the emotional one for both of them.

  “You don’t know him. He’s a friend of one of my teachers.”

  “Damn,” said Craig under his breath.

  “I met him doing my project for Alternative Sexuality.”

  “Must have been some project.”

  “He is sexually dominant,” Cameron said, “I’ll answer any questions you have.”

  It was the least she could do.

  “Is that supposed to make it all better?”

  “No,” she acknowledged. “It’s not.”

  He looked down at his coffee as if seeing it for the first time. “I knew something was off. You’ve been so…distant, even in bed. Is he the one who put those marks on you?”

  “No,” she said, feeling more like a slut than ever.

  “So, what, there’s a group of guys? They hand you around or something?”

  “It’s not like that.”

  Cameron thought of Rachel, helplessly accepting cock after cock. And all the rooms in the club where girls could be used, the cages, the dirty mattress, designed for sexual humiliation.

  “So what is it like?” he said, sounding pretty distant himself. “There must be something they do for you I can’t. You like being spanked or whipped, I guess.”

  It was Cameron’s turn to stare at her coffee. “Sometimes,” she said, barely whispering.

  “And chains, you like those? Do they make you hot?”

  Her eyes moistened. “Please don’t be cruel?”

  “How am I cruel? I have a right to know what I’m up against.”

  Cameron felt something release deep inside. It was submission, degradation of a different kind, but exciting none the less.

  Craig was about to strip her of her pride and invade her inner thoughts.

  “There was a woman, too. There were two women, actually.”

  “You’re bisexual?” Craig didn’t seem disgusted. In fact his voice had tightened, indicating he was very interested.

  “Not exactly. I get excited from the power exchange. It’s like being made to do something I don’t exactly want, but I have to, you know?”

  “Or you’d be punished.”

  “Yes…”

  Craig sighed, deep and reflective. “So what am I supposed to do about this? You expect me to dominate you, too?”

  “I can’t force you. That defeats the whole point.”

  He shook his head. “This whole thing baffles me.”

  She reached to touch his hand. “I’m sorry, Craig, I am, you deserve better than me.”

  “No, Cameron, what I deserve is the girl I met and fell in love with. What in blazes happened to her?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “Maybe she never really existed.”

  “If those people have brainwashed you…”

  “They can’t do anything that isn’t already in my own head. I had fantasies, Craig, when I was a teenager. I thought I was over it. I should have known when I was afraid to tell you about the project I was doing.”

  His hand was cold in hers.

  “Talk to me, Craig.”

  “You wouldn’t like what I have to say.”

  “Try me…”

  “I think you’re irresponsible and reckless. You’re also afraid to be happy, which is why you are trying to wreck what we have. Do you deny it?”

  “No.”

  He sighed again. “Is there any way past this?”

  “I have to pay,” she said. “If we want a fresh start.

  He snorted. “What? I should beat your ass to settle things?”

  “If you wanted,” she said.

  The voice came from far away. At the same time it was deep inside, perhaps the most accurate thing she had said about herself in a long time.

  “Punish me, Craig.”

  His gaze narrowed.

  “You’re angry and you have a right. Whatever you decide, I will abide by. Corporal punishment, loss of freedoms, sexual discipline…”

  “Sexual discipline, what’s that?” he asked, a half sneer on his face.

  “It’s where you use a person’s body however and wherever you want, you play it rough as you like, make me suck you off in a men’s room, for example, or tie me down and fuck my ass.”

  “And how does that differ from rape exactly?”

  “Because I am agreeing to submit…and because I deserve it.”

  “But you’d enjoy it, too. You said yourself, this BDSM stuff is about roughness, playing with the idea of force.”

  “It’s a fine line,” she acknowledged. “You might need to pick things I definitely wouldn’t like, house cleaning, cooking, or take away my television privileges.”

  “Privileges? What are you sixteen?”

  Cameron didn’t want to break down, not here, not now. “I’m trying to relate to you, I am trying to reach out.”

  “I’m sorry,” he acknowledged. “I know this can’t be easy for you.”

  “It’s even harder for you. And you really didn’t deserve it.”

  “But I do love you, Cameron, and that means I won’t walk away.”

  She bit her lower lip. It was a leap of faith. “I have to know that whatever we do there is pleasure for you. If it’s just to please me it will all backfire.”

  “So we have to find my natural dominant self.”

  “Yes, but the scary part is not all people are turned on by BDSM, it’s like any other variation, latex, high heels, it either arouses you or it doesn’t.”

  He arched a brow. “We did manage to have a pretty wild session the other night.”

  “You ravished me,” she acknowledged. “You were a tiger. Can you isolate exactly what turned you on?”

  “I think it was seeing you spin out of control…and then taking over.”

  “You dominated me, you really did.”

  “But I was angry, that’s not good.”

  “Agreed, so how do we take the emotion out of it for you? If anyone can figure that out, it’s you.”

  Craig laughed, which she took as a good sign.

  He ordered refills, which gave them both a chance to think.

  “I do know of one thing we could do,” he said at last.

  Cameron pounced on his words. “I’ll do anything, Craig.”

  He was smirking, a little like Victor. “I’m not sure you’d like it, but it could be a way to help me feel…on top of things again.”

  “Yes…”

  “You could wear a chastity belt.”

  Cameron’s belly did a hot flip, another good sign.

  “Well?” he said.

  “I said anything, right?” she rasped.

  “You did.”

  “It’s settled then,” Cameron declared, having no real idea what she was saying. “Between the two of us we will find a way to lock up my pussy and give you the key.”

  Craig nodded. “And in the mean time there is something else.”

  She wai
ted with bated breath.

  “It involves going back to the apartment.”

  “You’re the boss,” said Cameron.

  “Indeed,” said Craig trying it on for size. “We’ll see about that.”

  ***

  Cameron’s hand hurt like hell. She was on the tenth page and she had barely scratched the surface. Craig wasn’t letting her use her laptop either which made it take twice as long.

  “Baby, why can’t I at least write in cursive?” she had asked as he laid out the punishment assignment.

  “Because your handwriting sucks,” he had told her, hands on his hips. “Anyway, this isn’t supposed to be easy.”

  He had a point, the bastard.

  Actually she was elated. He was showing signs of being a natural dominant and he was doing it his way.

  “I want every single detail,” he had told her as he sat her down at her desk. “Every time someone touched you or you touched them, everything that was said and most importantly how it all made you feel.”

  The idea was brilliant. In the BDSM world it was called slave journaling, the compulsive revelation of the sub’s inner mental workings to her dominant, usually for the purposes of further control and manipulation.

  “What will you do with it?” she had asked him as he thrust the legal pad in front of her. “When I’m done?”

  “That is not for you to worry about,” he had said.

  Midway through page eleven Cameron decided to take a potty break.

  Craig stopped her midway down the hall. “Where do you think you are going?” he asked with all the friendliness of a jail warder.

  “I have to go pee?” She hadn’t intended it to come out as a question.

  “Without permission? I don’t think so.”

  Cameron’s nipples tightened even as the objections rose. “But you can’t make me hold it.”

  “You’re right,” he said showing a malevolent amount of patience. “I can’t make you do anything. But I can set the terms under which we will be reconciled. I believe you gave me that right, did you not?”

  She lowered her eyes, her voice thickening. “Yes…”

  “In that case, I suggest you return to your assignment, forthwith.”

  “Craig, please?” She crossed her legs for emphasis.

  He considered. “I will give you two options.”

  “Okay…”

  “Either pee in the toilet and start your assignment all over or…”

  “Or what?” She was afraid to find out.

  He had that look, that little smile she was coming to associate with males in the process of mentally tormenting their females.

  “Or you can pee in the bathtub…with me watching.”

  “You can’t be serious,” she exclaimed. “You know I don’t even like the door open when I’m using the bathroom.”

  “I know you don’t and it’s always annoyed me. It’s like you’re excluding me. So what’s it going to be, make up your mind.”

  Cameron bit her lip. Both choices sucked, but in the end her sore hand beat out modesty. “I’ll choose…the bathtub.”

  “You’ll be naked,” he further refined the terms. “And I will watch.”

  “Of course you will,” she grumbled.

  He stood in the doorway as she stripped. She had been nude for him many times under many circumstances but nothing had ever felt like this.

  “You seem pretty excited,” he said.

  She felt the color come to her cheeks. He knew her all too well, the high pointed nipples, the way her breasts rose and fell and how she kept licking her dry lips, quick little dabs of her tongue.

  “Yes,” she acknowledged. “You’re…the first.”

  “The first how?”

  “You’re pushing me past a boundary, Craig. This act of submission, this level of obedience belongs to you and you alone.”

  She noted the swelling of his cock, yet another good sign in a long list.

  “Tell me why this is hard for you, Cameron. What is it about revealing your bodily functions?”

  “I—I’m not sure. I remember as far back as high school not wanting anyone else in the bathroom with me. I would hold it in for two or three periods waiting.”

  “But you know you can trust me,” he said. “What you feel stays with me. I want you to share it…all of it.”

  She crossed her hands in front of her sex. “I feel embarrassed.”

  “Put your hands at your sides,” he said. “Open your legs for me while you talk.”

  Cameron complied, her pussy throbbing and aching, her head swimming. “It’s…it’s humiliating.”

  “You’ll be squatting,” he said. “The piss will come out of you, it will go down the drain.”

  She lowered her eyes.

  “I want my cock in your mouth afterwards,” he said. “I want to come and I want you to swallow everything I give you.”

  “Yes, Craig, I’ll do that.”

  “Think of this as a cleansing,” he said. “You’ll piss your cunt clean, you’ll erase the marks of that other man, what’s his name again?”

  “Victor.”

  “Yes, we will erase Victor.”

  Cameron felt a twinge of panic. Men like Victor did not erase easily, nor did they surrender their prizes. She could only hope he had already had his fill of her.

  And she of him.

  “Do you need to go badly, Cameron?”

  “Yes…”

  “Ask me, ask permission.”

  “Can I, Craig? Can I relieve myself?”

  “Say ‘piss’, Cameron. Ask to go piss—for my pleasure.”

  “May I piss,” she said, waves of degradation overcoming her. “For your pleasure.”

  He unzipped his pants. She felt a lump in her throat as he pulled out his enormous, thick cock, warm, familiar…like coming home. “Yes,” he said. “You may piss for my pleasure.”

  Cameron climbed into the tub. The tiles were cold on her feet. Craig entered the room now, his shaft in hand. He was stroking the length of it, very slowly, squeezing and massaging.

  “Spread your thighs wide,” he ordered. “Play with your nipples at the same time.”

  Cameron released a soft moan assuming the position. She felt the zing of pleasure and shame simultaneously. Her nipples ached. She thought of Victor kissing them, biting them.

  Luckily there were no marks. She would have to write about it, though, presumably when Craig was through taking his pleasure.

  “It’s…hard,” she complained.

  “I can give you water to drink, we have all day.”

  What day was it again? He was missing classes and so was she. First things first…

  “I’m waiting…” His breath was quick and his cock looked ready to explode. Cameron felt it deep within, the release, the mix of sensations, the flow, a trickle at first, golden yellow drops and then…a rush, a jet from out of her cunt, spraying the tub floor and splashing up onto her feet.

  Cameron was still pissing when he reached for the back of her head drawing her in. He had never been this hard, this thick. He grunted and shoved himself deep inside her mouth. She nearly gagged as he touched the back of her throat.

  Fortunately he pulled back a little, wanting the suctioning of her tongue and cheeks. His come spurted, nowhere to go but down her throat. Cameron gurgled and swallowed, gurgled and swallowed.

  He pressed the top of her head, steadying himself. For a long time he continued to fuck her mouth, even as his erection began to flag. Unbidden she licked him clean as soon as he extracted himself.

  “You may take a shower and return to your assignment,” he said, looking both refreshed and strangely enlightened. “And don’t bother getting dressed again.”

  “Yes, Craig,” she said huskily.

  It wasn’t master but it was close, a damn sight closer than she had thought possible just a few short hours ago.

  Cameron resumed her writing now, this time in the nude. With every word she was painfully awar
e of her condition, the hypersensitivity of her body, the way her breasts rose and fell, the way her nipples tightened as she continued to relay the story, blow for blow.

  She kept her thighs tight together, fighting the arousal. The parts about Victor were the hardest. Just thinking about him made her heart pound, her pulse race. She knew she should be confessing, leaving the past behind, but she found herself wanting to be back there. She had missed so much the first time around, all the subtle nuances of their conversations, first at the club and then at the café.

  He had a sense of humor. This was clear as she relayed the conversations. He also knew how to wrap her around his finger with his looks, the way he curled his lips, the way his dimples flashed, and those eyes. What would a woman give up just for a chance to see herself reflected in those icy depths?

  He reminded her of a roller coaster, a ride of terror and thrills that you barely survive but can’t wait to take again, a dark pleasure you partake of knowing you will never be able to share it with another human being.

  When she reached the sex scene her hand froze up. The ink might as well have been her blood. It had happened so quickly, the act itself, and yet time had stretched out almost to infinity. Was she deluding herself to think it had been something unique in both their lives, something sacred?

  Or did a man like Victor fuck women to oblivion on a regular basis, making them participate in their own utter undoing, their complete abasement?

  If anyone was quintessentially male it was him, shamelessly reducing sex to its basest animal nature, no pretext of anything emotional. And yet he brought out her most female instincts, needing and wanting it to be permanent, hoping for something, anything.

  Did he care about her? Did he think of her? Had it meant anything to him?

  Hurriedly, she forced herself through, clinically describing the scene and wrapping it all up with a neat bow.

  Just as hurriedly now she brought the entire assignment to Craig.

  He gave her a kiss and told her how he proud he was of her.

  She didn’t want him to be proud.

  She didn’t know what she wanted.

  “You’re tired,” he guessed.

  “It was a lot,” she agreed.

  Grinning he took her hand. “Let’s go to bed, you can take a nap and I will read what you wrote me.”

  Craig lay on his back, head propped up on the pillow, still fully clothed. Cameron lay across him, her cheek on his chest. She could hear his heartbeat, steady and soothing…safe.