Page 2 of How May I Please You

The pain of my past shatters into a million translucent pieces.

Every bruise you leave behind makes me more whole. I am set free by giving myself over to you, allowing you to take the weight of my life into your hands and lighten the load with BDSM. This is why the lifestyle isn’t for everyone. It takes a level of understanding that not everyone has, and it’s so much deeper than most people know.

By the time you’re finished, my entire torso is covered in red and pink streaks. A normal person would look at me and think I’ve been tortured. They would wonder how I could endure pain on this level, but they wouldn't know any better. We are not normal. We are elevated above those who think of sex and life one dimensionally. To us, this is perfection. This is bliss, and the soreness I feel tomorrow will put a smile on my face every time I move. I am a masochist, and the pain you inflict equals pleasure in so many more ways than one.

Panting, you drop the flogger and stand face to face with me, your breath hot against my mouth.

“You’re so perfect, Little Devil,” you tell me, rubbing my cheek with your knuckle while stroking your cock through your pants with your free hand. “How did I ever get so lucky to have you?”

You aren't the lucky one, Evan. I am.

You remove your hand from my face and place it against the newly damaged flesh on my stomach, making me suck in a breath.

“Does it hurt?” you ask.

I nod.

“Good. I love hurting you. It gives me everything I need in this life. To inflict pain on you is my greatest pleasure, Little Devil. The way you take it makes me so proud.”

Tears fill my eyes knowing I’ve made you proud of me. You … my Sir.

“Look how hard you’ve made me,” you say, still stroking your erection through your pants. “Look at my cock.”

I look down just as you push the waistband of your sweats down to your thighs, revealing your cock in all its thick, veiny perfection. It throbs in your hand as you stroke it, and my heart flutters with need as you stop to catch my falling drool in the palm of your hand once again. This time, you use it to coat your dick, lubing it up until it shines with my saliva before stepping forward and positioning the tip at my entrance.

“I’m going to fuck you until I come inside you,” you inform me, nearly growling with anticipation. “You’ve not missed your birth control, right?”

I shake my head.

“Good girl, because I’m about to fill you with so much cum it’ll be dripping out of you for hours. Are you ready to be fucked into oblivion, Journey?”

I nod, more ready for your cock than I’ve ever been.

You don’t waste another second. I feel your thickness stretch me out and fill me up and it takes my breath away. You move without thinking about it—like we were made for each other, existing within me thoughtlessly because I am where home is.

I stare into your eyes while you fuck me just the way you said you would. Each stroke is long, and every thrust is powerful. You become a god inside me, gripping my hips so hard I expect you to break the skin while you pound into me. All I can do is moan behind the ball gag, drool cascading out of my mouth and splashing onto your body.

My mind goes numb when you break me. I don't think about anything at all. I am free in this moment, and it all peaks in the blissful instant that you erupt inside of me. Your head goes back until you're looking up at the ceiling, and you let out an animalistic growl that echoes throughout the basement we’ve turned into our BDSM dungeon. Your muscles vibrate as your orgasm has its way with you, and when you’ve regained your composure, you pull out and step back, breathing hard.

I feel your cum begin to drip out of me as you rub my face again, locking eyes with me.

“You’re so perfect,” you remind me. “God, I’m so proud to own you, Little Devil. You make me so fucking proud.”

While I pant like a dog, you pull your pants up and turn on your heel. I watch with my arms and legs still bound to the Saint Andrew’s Cross as you walk to the corner of the basement and sit down in a leather, black armchair. That’s where you stay while I am still bound, and I will wait patiently for you. Just because you’ve finished doesn't mean that our scene is over. Eventually, you’ll come back and untie me, and we’ll engage in whatever aftercare I choose. You’ll rub my feet while we drink wine together, and I may even have you give me a shoulder massage or play with my hair while I relax. We’ll get to all of that, but for now, I wait for you.

This is what we do. This is our dynamic. This is our way of life. We are dark and twisted, and if anyone ever tries to take this away from me, I will burn their entire life to the fucking ground.

I belong to you, Evan.

You … my Sir.

chapter

two

Waking up with the birds chirping outside, the sun squeezing its way through the closed blinds, and Journey at my side has become a routine part of my day that I can't function without. Especially the part where she is lying next to me, her head on my shoulder with her leg draped across mine. The warmth of her body comforts me more than any blanket ever could, and I can never help the smirk on my face as I look down at her and run the tip of my finger across her beautiful cheek. My Little Devil.

To say that Journey and I have grown together over the last six months would be an understatement. We’re inseparable now. After everything we’ve been through, how could we not be? I met and fell in love with her just under a year ago, and in the beginning our life was a rollercoaster. She showed up on my doorstep looking for someone … someone who was buried in my backyard. Every cell in my body believed that Journey would be the end of me, but the tables somehow turned and she ended up being my true beginning.