Submitting to Her (28 page)

If I continued to please her, she had to
continue to love me. I figured if I could get us past this, somehow
show her that she didn't need to look back to her past, our sexual
exploration could keep moving to the next level.

She said she didn't love him, and at the end
of the day I had to trust her. But perhaps I was Icarus getting
just too damn close to the sun.

I kept the light off in my room, and could do
little more than pace as I waited for Zoey to return.

It was a long while I had to wait. Much
longer than before. Lying on my bed in the darkness, I had actually
nodded off before I was awakened by the sound of Zoey's door
opening.

Instantly alert, I scrambled to get off my
bed, to take a more concealed position on the floor.

I wondered if I was making a mistake by
watching them again - perhaps it would be easier to take this if I
left, allowed them to do their thing, wait until the inevitable
departure of Brandon once he'd finished with her. Yet there was
that dark, curious part of me that wanted to see - even craved the
burn of seeing her with him, because it was also so exciting to
watch her express her sexuality.

Frustratingly this time, through the door I
had only a view of the sofa in the other suite, not the bed. It
wasn't quite as convenient a room layout as before.

I could hear Zoey's voice, and if I was not
mistaken, it sounded a little slurred. "Just a quick drink from the
minibar, Bran. We have to be up early tomorrow."

Brandon was muffled, I couldn't hear what he
said.

Then Zoey said: "I wasn't kidding, Bran. I'm
with Aiden now. I told you."

I felt my heart swell, my chest filled with
warmth. She'd told him she was with me.

But Brandon walked past, holding a beer from
the minibar in his hand as he went to peer out the window, and I
had to wonder why she'd brought him up to her room if she was going
to tell him she was with me.

"There's no way he'll keep you happy,"
Brandon was saying, looking over to where Zoey was, making me
envious merely for being able to see her.

She said something I couldn't hear, then
Brandon said: "Come here."

With a single hand signal he directed her to
sit on the sofa. There she was. God, she was beautiful, and
blushing slightly. I thought I saw her trying to peer in through
the door, to see if I was there. I'm not sure if she spotted me in
the darkness, but she seemed to be purposefully sitting in a
position to show me that she had no panties on under her skirt.

I felt my loins tingle. I had to force myself
to believe she did not love him. She was just keeping him happy for
business reasons.

"I'm not sure if I'm going to allow you to
have him," he said, approaching her now, looking down sternly.

She crossed her legs and put her hands on her
thighs, looking at him with submissive deference in her eyes.

Looming over her, Brandon said: "You don't
need a wimp like that - you never did. You need a firm hand, like
always."

I saw him grab hold of her top, yanking it up
to reveal her bare breasts, and I felt the anger beginning to
bubble up inside me. What was he doing?

Zoey, my strong-willed Zoey, was not stopping
him. She sat up, straightening her back and stretching up to put
her face inches from his, her mascara-laden eyes flickering over
him from behind her glasses as she offered him a half-smile, as
though she was wrestling with the conflicting impulses to dominate
or be dominated.

"You need me to tell you what to do, don't
you Zoey?"

She sat still as he let go of her top, the
elastic snapping back against her skin, and said nothing. I got the
distinct impression his authoritative tones were turning her on in
a different way than I was able to achieve. It made me feel
helpless.

Brandon leaned forward and smelled her, his
head just a few inches to the side of hers. He seized her arm,
pulled her toward him, then his hand was gripping her hair and the
back of her neck rather brutally instead.

"I think you're just teasing me 'cause last
time I was so soft on you," he said with a menacing sneer.

He kissed her, holding her by the neck,
tearing at her top to keep it from slipping down over her
breasts.

In the darkness of my room, I felt my
hardened cock twitch at the sight of her hard nipple. The blush in
Zoey's cheeks seemed stronger now, and she was gazing up at him
with something like wonderment.

"You know you can't do anything without me,
Zoey," he said, his fingers closing around her throat, squeezing
her, intimidating her with his power. "You'll be a mess without
me."

She said something softly, but I couldn't
hear what it was. Brandon crouched down in front of her, pulling
her toward him by the neck, as though she were nothing but a rag
doll, and he was whispering something in her ear that I could not
decipher.

She was smiling, enjoying his roughness.

I almost let out a groan of pure
disappointment, before I realized they might hear.

Brandon seemed to be throttling her, and yet
she was smiling, those nipples so erect on her exquisite breasts. I
was being torn apart by conflicted feelings, wanting desperately to
go in there and defend her, yet knowing she'd told me to keep
out.

She said: "Yes." I wasn't sure to what she
was responding, but it did not make me happy.

Presumably responding to an order from
Brandon, Zoey stood up in front of the sofa, standing straight like
she was in a military parade, facing me directly. Brandon reached
forward and pulled her top up now, over her head, before removing
her skirt as well.

Oh, she was so stunning, hands clasped
obediently behind her back, chest pushed up, butt pushed back,
pussy exposed for me to see.

"You see?" Brandon said, pacing around her
like an army sergeant major inspecting the troops. "You need this,
don't you?"

She nodded, still giving him that half-smile
that infuriated yet also excited me.

"I didn't hear you," he slapped her face,
then slapped her right breast. It wasn't hard, but the sound of the
impact on her skin shocked me.

I sat up, now worried he was actually going
to hurt her. I was deathly afraid of what I'd have to do if he did
hurt her - Brandon was no small man. He'd clearly been an athlete
in college, and he'd kept up the regimen since then.

Zoey was smiling, partly with quiet rebellion
against this dominant man, partly through sexual arousal.

He slapped her again on the left breast, and
she let out a little moan, said: "Yes, sir."

"Yes sir, what?" Another slap, another
moan.

"Yes sir, I need you to control me."

Brandon walked behind her, and put his hands
around her neck again, as if to strangle her. He put his face to
the side of her head, inhaling the scent of her hair, and said:
"That's right, little girl."

Then he said quietly, though loud enough for
me to hear: "You don't have any need for any of your feminist
bullshit, and you don't have any need for that dickhead Aiden
Jones."

I caught my breath. Zoey didn't say
anything.

He gave her another semi-playful swat on the
breast, then swept his hand all over her chest, down her stomach
and over her pussy, making her moan in the process.

Now the big man pulled down his pants, still
standing behind her, and said into her ear: "Touch it. Now."

He held her as she fumbled with her hands
behind her back, blindly seeking out his cock just as his hand was
reaching around to grab her pussy.

I sat horrified, wondering why she was
allowing this. Was she accepting all this simply to win the
contract the next day? Why did she want me to see this? It felt so
disruptive and undermining of my view of her as a strong force in
my life - worse than it had been in Ms Jenkinson's presence.

Yet my cock was so thick between my thighs as
I watched, kneeling there by my bed wearing only a pair of boxers
and a t-shirt. How thrilling it was to see her so bare, completely
exposed to someone else, challenging the boundaries of control.

Now he stood by her side, and hissed: "On
your knees."

She turned to him, did exactly what he said,
lowering herself to the ground so he could feed that hard cock of
his into her mouth. So compliant as she took him between her pretty
lips, rocking her head back and forth, looking up at him with
compliant eyes.

He held her hair tight in one hand, and led
the movement of her mouth on his hardness. Fucking her head. Again,
she was letting him do whatever he wanted.

Periodically, he'd remove his cock from her
mouth and smack her around the face with it a few times before
pushing back inside her lips. He was disrespectful of her, he did
not appreciate her feminine power, he was wasting his entire
experience. Although I'd never been abusive to any girl I'd been
with, watching Brandon offered me a glimpse at how I'd frittered
away ten years of experiences with women. What a waste.

Taking a deep, anxious breath, I stood up,
fighting off the pins and needles in my feet, agonizing about
whether I should just march in there, and push him away from her.
She'd told me to keep out of there, though, whatever the
circumstances.

I got the sense she was teaching me a lesson.
Would I be simply failing her to go in there now? What if, in order
to pass the test, I was actually supposed to go in there and defend
her?

When I returned to my place, to peer through
the door, I saw that Brandon had now shoved Zoey onto the couch, so
she was lying face down along it, and her hands appeared to be
bound behind her back, tied with a toweled bathrobe cord.

Now naked, he was standing behind her,
slapping her rear, casting great pink splotches right across her
buttocks.

She cried and moaned with every strike,
burying her face in the sofa cushions to stifle herself, but again
I couldn't tell if she was enjoying it or not. She certainly wasn't
trying to struggle or get away.

They didn't seem like hard blows, but
produced sharp cracks of flesh on flesh. Brandon nestled his cock
between her cheeks in between spanking her, her pert behind
becoming steadily more rosy with every strike.

"You see? You love it," he declared. "There's
no way that creep next door can make you feel anything as good as
me."

Then I saw him manhandling her hips, pulling
her towards him, and his cock was pointing direct at her pussy. I
watched, side on, as the big man pushed forward, sliding his
bulging manhood inside my Zoey. I felt the air squeezed out of my
lungs as I saw that thing sinking into her.

"Oh fuck," he said, "Oh fuck, babe, you feel
that?"

I hated guys who called anyone 'babe', it was
so stupid. I hated Brandon, he was stupid. But Zoey was letting him
fuck her, letting him strike her behind as he continued fucking
her, answering him in the affirmative as he asked her if she liked
having his dick inside her as he slapped her.

He pulled out of her, and went over to the
other side of the couch, and knelt down to feed his cock back into
her mouth, glistening with her pussy juices, demanding to know if
she liked his cock, if she liked sucking him all coated in her
come.

I could see how wet her pussy was as he
fucked her face again, and I suddenly felt quite inadequate. Did I
make her that wet when she was with me?

Of course I did. I made her come - he didn't.
Brandon needed me to be watching for Zoey to come.

I buried my face in my hands, turning away.
Taking a deep breath, telling myself that she was only doing
whatever needed to be done to make this guy happy for the
contract's sake.

When I turned back, Brandon was pushing her
roughly over to the arm of the sofa, shoving her over it, then
forcefully plunging his cock back into her pussy, squeezing and
slapping her butt cheeks as he pounded her, even reaching forward
to slap her face and her breasts.

He was saying: "You're going to stop seeing
him, aren't you, bitch?"

But she was saying: "Never, never, never."
And I hoped against hope she was saying she was never going to stop
seeing me.

He smacked her, said: "You'll never see
him?"

And she said: "I'll never stop seeing
him."

I was getting so wound up. Zoey's moans were
more like cries now, and though my cock was hard in my undershorts,
I was on my feet, feeling myself losing control as he hit her.

Storming into the room, shoving him off
her.

Brandon was laughing.

He said: "God, took long enough for him to
come for you, Zoey, are you sure you've chosen a good one?"

I was confused, standing there like a
lemon.

Zoey looked at me, a touch angry, a touch
pitying me. Perhaps even a touch pleased that I was there. "You
shouldn't have come in, Aiden," she said. "I told you to stay
out."

Brandon was still laughing, saying: "Time for
some punishment for sissy boy."

Zoey said: "Come here."

I felt physically sick.

I ignored Zoey, throwing out the rules of my
submission, and faced Brandon. I've no doubt I looked completely
ridiculous, but I was a seething ball of rage. I growled: "If you
hit her again, I will put you in the hospital."

That probably seemed quite rich, seeing how
much bigger Brandon was than me. But rage and adrenalin can do
funny things to the strength and power of even the most average of
men.

It was probably not what I was supposed to do
if our firm wanted to keep its part of this deal Brandon was
supposedly concocting. To Hell with it.

He sneered at me. "You do as I say,
loser."

"When did I agree to that?" I asked.

He said: "You do what she tells you. She does
what I tell her."