Innocence Tempted (Generational Sins Series)

by Samantha Blair

  "Uh, when will that be?" I asked. I was glad that he wanted to see me again, but truthfully this whole thing was freaking me out a little. Checklists? About sex? Seriously? Still, there were some things I was curious about and a few that I’d like to try.

  "How's Tuesday? Let me cook you dinner."

  "Uh." I mentally went over my father’s schedule. I wasn't busy, but if I wasn't home at dinner time he would ask where I was going. I was going to try to avoid that as much as possible. "Yeah, Tuesday should be fine. I'll just come here then?"

  "Seven?" he asked. I nodded. Seven indeed.

  "Do you have any questions so far?" he asked.

  "Only about a million."

  He laughed. "I promise you, it's not that complicated. Think of it like a game. I'll tell you what to do, and you will either obey me or disobey me. Your actions will have either rewards or consequences accordingly."

  I bit my lip. That didn't sound so hard. "Okay. What's my first task?"

  "You already completed your first task, and you did very well. It's time for your reward."

  Oh right. I blushed against my will. I can't believe I sucked his cock. It's such a double standard, but he probably thinks I'm a huge slut now.

  "Tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours."

  "N-n-nothing," I stammered. He wasn't buying it. He lifted my chin like he had done in the store and looked into my eyes.

  "Hey, don’t be afraid to talk to me. I'm not going to think any less of you for having doubts or asking questions okay?"

  "It's just stupid," I mumbled.

  "It's not stupid, Kat. Tell me what's got you looking so conflicted."

  "You don't—" I paused, trying to force the words out. "You don't think I'm a slut?"

  He laughed. "God no, Kat, why would you say that?"

  "Well I just met you, and I mean... If Jamie knew—ya know? She would think—"

  "I think you are a beautiful, curious woman who wants to explore her sexuality. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that. What you choose to do with your body is your business and no one else's. You are not a slut. You are not dirty. And the next time that someone tries to put ideas like that in your head, I want you to ignore them. Don't ever doubt yourself when you're with me okay?"

  I smiled. "’Kay."

  "Now," he said, leaning forward over me. "About that reward."

  He brought his lips to my neck and nuzzled just below my jaw line. I lifted my head to give him better access. His hands brushed the expanse of skin just above the waistline of my jeans. I jumped slightly at his touch.

  "Relax, sweetheart. I'm just going to make you feel good. We won't go any further than you want."

  I nodded. He unbuttoned my jeans and gently tugged them off of my hips.

  "I wanna touch you," he said. God, I loved the sound of his voice. It was like he could melt my insides with those words.

  He dropped my jeans to the floor then pulled me into his lap so that I was straddling him. His hands moved gracefully over the outside of my thighs, then came to rest just below my cotton panties. I was really glad that I'd worn cute underwear. They weren't the sexiest pair I had, but they were blue at least.

  "Put your head right here," he said, tilting his head and indicating that I should lean on his shoulder. I did as he asked, breathing in his scent. He smelled of masculinity and wood smoke. Heavenly.

  "Just relax, beautiful. I'm going to make you feel good."

  It was impossible not to relax under his touch. His skilled hands gently worked the knots out of my back as I pressed my chest against his. I closed my eyes and gave into the sensations, trusting him to do as he said he would. His rough hands moved over my body with the practiced ease of an expert. There was no fumbling, no hesitation, just steady confidence. It was intoxicating.

  I gave into the feeling of power that he exuded. I just knew that he would take care of me. I felt incredibly safe and protected in his arms. It was like nothing else mattered. I could forget about everything else in my life and just feel.

  His jeans were unyielding under the soft skin of my naked thighs as I rubbed myself against him. I couldn't help it. He was setting my body on fire by touching me everywhere but where I wanted him to most. He laughed gently in my ear. "You're an eager little thing aren't you? I can't wait to see you strugglin’ against the ropes when I tie you up. You're gonna be a squirmy one."

  I moaned softly and felt the wetness pooling in my panties. Just the thought of being tied to this man's bed was enough to have me on the verge of an orgasm. I ground my core harder against his denim-covered erection.

  Finally, he brought his hand up between my legs, his fingers sliding under the waistband of my panties while the other hand cupped the swell of my ass. He pushed two fingers slowly inside me, his thumb coming to rest right on my sweet spot. I rocked shamelessly against his hand.

  "You are so wet," he growled. "Do you like the idea of being tied to my bed? You want me to restrain you, and then have my way with you don't you? You want me to possess you, to use you for my pleasure."

  "Please," I begged. God, I was so close. His fingers were working magic between my legs, and I was absolutely desperate for release.

  "Fuck my fingers, you greedy little slut."

  My eyes widened in surprise at his words. He’d just finished tell me that I wasn’t a slut and now he was growling the filthy word in my ear. Part of me wanted to be deeply offended, but a part of me that I hadn't known existed wanted to hear him say it again. I brought myself down harder onto his waiting hand. He rubbed circles on my clit with the pad of his thumb.

  So close. So fucking close.

  "Cum for me, Kat."

  His words held such authority. I could do nothing but obey him. I closed my eyes and pushed my hips forward one more time as he curled his fingers slightly inside me. I couldn't stop the throaty moan that escaped from my lips as I came. He told me how sexy I was as I shuddered in his strong grip. It felt incredible. In that moment I felt like the most beautiful woman who ever lived.

  He held me sweetly until I could breathe normally again. Eventually, I realized that I would have to leave the safe bubble of his arms. I reluctantly put my jeans back on, and he pulled the completed pages from the printer. I promised to look over them before Tuesday. He kissed me on the forehead and walked me out to my truck.

  * * * *

  A weekend had never passed by so slowly. I was counting the minutes until Tuesday would finally arrive. I'd read the checklist no less than fifteen times. I didn't even know what some of this stuff—okay a lot of this stuff—was. Thank God for Google. Unfortunately, the more research I did, the more I wanted to experience. I was so fucking horny by the time I got to the end of the list I thought I would explode.

  Did people really do these things? I had no idea, but I was desperate to find out. Some of it, I'll admit, was intimidating, especially under the punishments section, but my curiosity and desire were far outweighing my fear. For some reason, I just trusted Cody. He might want to do some filthy things to me, but I didn't believe that he wanted to hurt me.

  I had the day off on Tuesday, and it was miserable. I had nothing to occupy my time and so my imagination ran wild. My dad was working from three to eleven, so we had breakfast and lunch together, but scrubbing the kitchen counter for the third time in one day was still not enough of a distraction. All I could do was remember the feel of Cody’s hands on my body and his cock in my mouth. I replayed his words over and over in my head. You want me to restrain you and then have my way with you don't you? You want me to possess you. Think about how it's going to feel when I have you tied to my bed, and I'm fucking you hard.

  I shook myself out of my musing. I was going to go insane if I had to wait any longer.

  My dad finally left for work, and I went upstairs to get ready. I took a bath and shaved my legs. When I was done I carefully trimmed my pubic hair as well. I'd considered going to get waxed or something but I didn't really know
what to do. I thought Cody would probably say something if he wanted me to behave differently. He sure wasn't shy about asking for what he wanted.

  I flushed with heat. Fuck. I had no idea that a man could affect me this much.

  I dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt that I'd always thought looked good on me. I had on the sexiest underwear I owned. I had considered dressing up more, but knowing me, I would just trip over my strappy shoes and make a fool of myself. Finally at a quarter to seven I got into my car, my completed checklist in the envelope on the passenger seat.

  Cody answered the door a moment after I knocked, and I was once again taken aback by his muscled physique. He was dressed in his standard jeans and t-shirt, which made me feel better about my choice.

  "Right on time. Come in, Kat." He took the brown envelope from my hands and ushered me into the kitchen.

  "Something smells fantastic," I commented. It was true. He'd made ravioli, salad, and garlic bread. I was impressed. Cowboys weren’t known for their cooking skills. We made small talk for a while as he finished dinner, and then he joined me at the table.

  "So," he said. "What did you think?" He gestured to the envelope that was now resting on the table at his right hand.

  I swallowed the bite of salad that I was chewing. I knew I was blushing, and I hated it. "Um, I found it all very interesting."

  He gave me a very stern look. "You can do better than that, Kat."

  "Uh, okay, I um—" I hesitated. This was not easy to put into words. "I was incredibly aroused by it. I did some research, because I didn't know what a lot of those things were, and there were some things I would really like to experience."

  "Good." He opened the folder and looked at my list while he ate. I'd suddenly lost my appetite. What if he thought I made bad choices? What if he wanted to do something I wasn't comfortable with? I pushed my food around on my plate.

  "Eat, Kat," he commanded. I dropped my fork. He burst out laughing at me. I was mortified, but I laughed with him. Maybe I was being just a little silly about the whole thing.

  "Jeez, sweetheart, calm down. I promise I don't bite... hard." He winked at me, and I melted. He handed me a new fork and went back to my checklist.

  "You're surprisingly brave," he commented, "at least on paper. Did you really mean this or did you fill it out thinking that this was what I wanted to hear?"

  I swallowed hard. I had been truthful. I mean sure I was nervous, but if I didn't like something I could always say stop. I didn't have to like everything that we tried. He said he wanted to be my teacher, and I wanted to be a good pupil. How was I supposed to know what I wanted until I'd tried it?

  "I was honest," I managed. "I mean, you’ll stop if I don't like it, right? I don't know for sure that I'm going to like everything, but I'm willing to try."

  "Good girl," he said, considering me. "You're gonna be a lot of fun."

  I smiled and went back to picking at my ravioli.

  "We need to establish some safewords. Did you come across that in your research?"

  "Yes," I answered. "But I didn't really understand why the safeword wasn't just 'stop' or 'no.'"

  "Good question. Some people do use those words, but they can be limiting. What happens if you want to experience rape play or other kinds of fantasy where 'no' might really mean 'yes'? In a case like that, you need to be sure that the meaning is really clear. Secondly, sometimes 'no' just slips out. For example, if I were to throw you over the table right now and spank you, you'd be likely to say 'stop' out of reflex, but you wouldn't necessarily mean it. Picking something a little more obscure means that you have to think about it before you say it. You have to be really sure that you really want to stop before you safeword."

  "That makes sense," I agreed.

  "The traditional method is to use two words, typically “yellow” for slow down, and “red” for stop—like a stoplight. Because you're learning, I'll expect you to use yellow a fair amount at first. You're going to have questions and that's okay. If you say 'yellow,' we'll talk about it. The only time you should use red is if you're really afraid, or if something really hurts, like in a dangerous kind of way. The second I hear 'red' I'll completely stop, get out of character, untie you, whatever the case may be. Don't use it lightly. Safewords are a very serious issue."

  "Okay," I agreed. I was glad that he was taking this seriously. This was my safety we were talking about after all.

  "Any objections to using “red” and “yellow”?"

  "No," I said.

  "Good. Those are your words. Don't forget them." He considered my list for another minute. "It seems like you like the idea of restraint and/or suspension. Why is that?"

  I blushed, again. I couldn't quite figure out how to turn my thoughts into words. When I didn't answer right away, he chastised me, telling me that if I wasn't mature enough to talk about it, I wasn't mature enough to do it. I thought that over for a minute and had to concede that he was probably right. It was just so damn intimidating.

  "I'm sorry, I just, it's all kind of new to me." I took a deep breath and continued. "I like the idea of restraint because I think it would be arousing to be immobile. I've never really tried it, but sometimes with Jake, he would be on top of me, and I always liked feeling his weight on me. It made me feel like he was in control and that made me feel—I don't know—safe? Somehow?"

  "Good. We're going to explore that." I couldn't help but smile. I couldn't wait for that part. "Are you finished?" he asked, indicating my dinner. I was. He put both of our plates in the sink and then led me to the living room.

  Cody

  She was something else.

  I'd gotten fairly good at reading people after nearly a decade of studying body language, but this girl was really throwing me for a loop. When I'd first seen her groveling before her boss, I'd taken her for a naturally submissive, not particularly brave woman. Then with her coworkers, I thought that she was easily influenced, swayed by their opinions. This idea was further cemented in my mind when she let me fuck her mouth and finger her pussy after the bonfire. A little push went a long way with her.

  But, when she handed me her completed checklist, I was completely floored. Either she was trying to make me happy, or I had underestimated her. She'd marked only three hard limits on the whole sheet, and a small handful of soft limits. Nearly everything was checked "willing to try." There were also a few checks for things that she had done previously and enjoyed. I had never seen a beginner with such an adventurous checklist.

  I really wanted to know what was going on in that pretty little head of hers. It had to be one of two things. Either she was so desperate for my approval that she was willing to do anything, or she was really kinky by nature and totally didn't know it. I guessed it could also be a combination of the two. What on earth had happened to this girl that she would need the approval of others so badly?

  She was incredibly nervous. That much was obvious. Usually I found it endearing—there was something about a woman's fear that was a massive aphrodisiac for me. But with Kat it had me kind of worried. I really needed to get to the bottom of her reason for being here. I was missing too much information, and I couldn't go any further until I got some of it. With a woman as young as she was, this kind of relationship could be seriously damaging if not properly handled. If I was going to be responsible for her, we were going to do this right. I moved her into the living room after dinner where we could be more comfortable.

  "Kat, I've got to ask you some serious questions, and I really need for you to be honest with me. By doing this I am taking responsibility for your well-being, and that means your mental health as well as your physical health. I don't know you very well, which means that you have to tell me some things. I wouldn't ask questions like this if I didn't need to know the answers, okay?"

  She bit her bottom lip, but nodded her head at me.

  "Were you abused as a child?"

  "What?" Clearly my little introduction speech hadn't properly prepared he
r.

  "Kat, some women want to be submissives because they've become comfortable with the idea of hitting. Some women can't process pleasure without pain, as a result of the abuse they endured. I don't think that's the case with you, but I need to know for sure. Did someone hit you or sexually abuse you as a child?"

  "No. My dad was a good dad. No one ever hit me."

  "Did he use spanking as a form of discipline or punishment?"

  "No. He grounded me and threatened to keep me in a holding cell."

  I laughed. That sounded like Mark.

  "Okay. How about your mom?"

  "She died a couple of years ago. I really didn't know her very well. She left us when I was just a baby, and she'd breeze through town now and then, but she was never really a very stable parental figure for me. God, I feel like you're my shrink or something."

  I shrugged. "Bartenders and Dominants are all really psychologists in disguise."

  "Yeah, well, I don't really see what this has to do with wanting to tie me to your bed." Her tone was very defensive. She was lashing out at me, and I wasn't sure why. It was time to reassert some authority.

  "If you take that tone of voice with me again," I said very calmly, looking right into her eyes, "I will punish you. You will not enjoy it. Do you understand?"

  She lowered her eyes immediately and mumbled a "Sorry." I let it go for now.

  "Kat, it is not my intention to aggravate you. I promise you that it won't always be like this. However, you came here tonight and handed me a checklist that pretty much tells me that you want me to be rough with you, potentially very rough. That's not bad, and it's not wrong, but it is a little unusual."

  She blushed and twisted her fingers in her hands.

  "We all have needs, Kat, and I have to understand what your needs are. In a car, I make a terrible passenger, because I have to be in control. If we're going somewhere, I need to drive. That carries over into the bedroom for me. I need to have control over my sexual situations. I get off on the power that comes from having another human being under my control. I also get enjoyment out of teaching a woman to submit. I prefer women with limited experience."