by Dark Angel
Fuck this, I’m going for the third level, but I know it might be too much for me. I’ve never even had an orgasm. Do I really want it to be this way? I don’t even have time to decide, because regardless of what my mind wants, my body is desperate for more. I push the button without thinking and instantly know it was the right decision.
The bullet is moving rapidly inside me, sliding forwards and backwards while vibrating. My knees slam together, my clit craving friction. The clamps are squeezing my nipples and vibrating, the sensation making my breath catch.
“Ohhh!” I call out in pleasure, my body flipping onto my belly, my senses in overload.
My head falls on a pillow and it smells of Derrick, maybe the laundry detergent or something. Either way, he’s back in my head, and now this pillow is him. I shove it down my belly so that it’s right at my pelvis, and thrust forward, rubbing my sensitive clit against the luxury fabric.
“Fuck!” I moan. I didn’t expect it to feel this good. The waves inside me are building fast and my body is flailing on the bed, humping this pillow for dear life.
“Derrick!” I moan quietly and gasp once I realize what I’ve said. Oh fuck it! It’s just part of the scene. I’m auditioning, remember.
Thrusting forward, dragging my clit against the pillow, the butterflies in my stomach grow and flutter and my body feels on edge. My hand grasps a fistful of the sheet as I pull myself into the bed, my nipples screaming under the clamps as my body races onwards in preparation for an explosion.
“Ungh! Derrick!” I moan again, this time loudly, wanting him. Gazing over my shoulder, I pretend he’s watching me from that pretend camera, and tighten my ass in every thrust of the pillow I wish was him.
“Yes! Yes!” I’m yelling now and I don’t care. I’ve never felt anything quite like this and I don’t want it to stop. My stomach muscles are tense, I feel everything on every inch of my body. The bullet is penetrating me perfectly, hitting that elusive spot over and over.
Now both of my hands are balled into fists gripping the sheets as I pump my pelvis into the pillow, my clit savoring the friction.
“Oh! Oh!” I yell, a bit afraid by what’s going on. It feels like I need to pee, but there’s no way I’m stopping, not when Derrick is watching.
“Derrick,” I call out to him, my body moving just for his pleasure. Envisioning his sex body, and running my fingers over those chiseled abs, pushes me further. My body surges faster, my grip tightening on the luxury linen.
“Oh God!” I yell as my body seems to unravel. It’s an intense release of emotions, my hips slow on their own. I’m full on panting and my sex is clenching down, puckering closed.
Snatching off the nipple clamps a moan bellows out of me, the strong sensation extending that explosion for a few extra moments as my body begins to calm and my legs slightly tremble.
“Oh my,” I breath, my chest rising and falling dramatically as every muscle in my body tenses. Suddenly I feel very cold, unlike just a few seconds prior.
The idea of someone watching doesn’t turn me on now that I’m back in my right mind, instead it embarrasses me. I fall back to the bed, pulling the fluffy comforter up to my chin as I scramble to stuff the toys in the box they came from, deciding to delay cleaning the bullet. I can’t stand to look at that sinful gift right now.
Feeling a wetness against my thigh, I jump in horror before investigating. It’s the pillow, and there’s a puddle of my juices. I did that?
What if Derrick did see me behave in such a way? Then he would for sure think I’m not Alicia, because she would never do that. Not the Alicia he knew when we were kids or the grown one that lays in this bed mortified now. No, Alicia is the good girl, who never has a clue as to what the bad kids are doing.
Obviously Jake figured that out, able to bang my roommate for our entire relationship, right under my nose, because I would never even expect such a thing. Hell, I had caught them red-handed and still thought it must be some sort of mistake. It was probably him that trashed my room. Could he do that?
It doesn’t matter now. Derrick will figure it our and get to the bottom of it. Maybe I should just leave the apartment, especially considering I no longer have a roommate. What was that whole ordeal with Jenna about anyway? Today has just been the strangest day of my life. Or maybe this is just the strangest week.
I’ve finally got the break I wanted in my career, but not before becoming a stripper, reuniting with the boy that made my childhood hell, only he doesn’t know its me, since I’m pretending to be Misty, no Daphne, all while really trying to get him to confess his secrets to me so I can share them with the world. Oh, and I just climaxed on a pillow. Who the fuck am I?
I sure hope you’re keeping up with all of this, because I’m living it and I’m confused. My whole life seems jumbled up into a box like puzzle pieces, scattered. I don’t know how I’m going to be able to maintain all these roles for an extended period of time. Nothing seems to make sense anymore, but maybe I should just stop overthinking everything like I always tend to do. My mother would tell me to enjoy the ride, and that’s what I’m going to do. Besides, I just had a pretty good experience riding a pillow into oblivion, so maybe that’s a sign. My eyes are growing heavy, so I take a deep breath and sink into the cloud like bed.
* * *
I wake up and I think it's several hours later. But I look out the window and realize that it’s no longer night. I must have passed out into the next morning. The sun is shining and I hear Derrick coming down the hallway.
Oh shit! My door is open! I'm naked! I jump out of bed and manage to close the door right as he walks up past my room.
"Good morning to you too, love," he says walking up to my room.
I breathe a loud exhale of relief that he didn't see me. Can you imagine how embarrassing it would be if he caught me naked with nipple clamps and a vibrator next to me?
Gross!
"Derrick!" I yell at him. "What are you doing here?"
He laughs. "I live here, love," he says and I roll my eyes. "What are you doing up so early?"
I look at the clock. It just turned 6 am.
"I'm...I'm going to go for a run," I say shakily. I'm not sure why I'm explaining anything to him.
All I can think about was last night. God, last night was fantastic. I can't believe he got me that. I can't believe I actually used it. I can't believe him. He's supposed to be an asshole. He's supposed to be this huge dick. Then why is he behaving like this?
I should probably start getting ready to make sure he sees that I'm pretty normal this morning. That I didn't pass out from masturbating.
Masturbating to thoughts of him.
Wait, I freeze. I only have one nipple clamp on. Where's the other one? I look around frantically. I can't seem to find it.
"Looks like you had a good time last night as well," Derrick says, and I can just imagine a smirk on his face.
Wait.
Oh, no!
Did the nipple clamp drop?
Did it get pushed out the door?
Derrick's outside the door when he says, "I'll just leave this little bugger next to your door, love. I'm sure you wouldn't want to lose it."
Oh my God! Oh my God!
He knows. He knows!
I'm so embarrassed and scared that I fling myself onto the bed. I want to die right now. I want the earth to open wide so I can just go inside and hide.
I hear Derrick's steps walk down the hallway. I have to get it back. I change into a sports bra, and put on some yoga pants and my running shoes from the stuff that Derrick’ men brought over.
I need to get out of this condo and go for a nice long run.
For like, maybe, forever.
Never come back here again! I open the door and peek out. There's no one. I crouch down to retrieve the tiny nipple clamp.
"Boo!"
My heart literally stops as Derrick jumps out of the parlor across from my room.
"Derrick! You ASSHOLE!" I yell at him
. I'm shaking.
Derrick's laughing uncontrollably. "Sorry, love. I'm so sorry," he says as he laughs. "It was just so fucking hilarious. I had to. I hope you forgive me, yeah?"
I'm pissed off at this asshole and I can't believe he saved me yesterday. What an ass. That's it. I'm not going to respond.
"So tell me, was it as good as Jake?" Derrick asks and I roll my eyes. "Are you still thinking of that wanker, love?"
I ignore his off-English accent and head down the stairs. My cheeks are burning red. I open the door and start running away as quickly as possible.
* * *
Instead of running in Central Park, I decide to run downtown and am just passing by the Lower East Side when my head starts to clear a little bit. I still can't believe Derrick! What a disgusting dirt bag asshole!
But why is he so nice to me? And after he's nice, he turns around and starts acting like an asshole again!
It's so confusing. I'm hoping another mile will clear my head.
I need to clear my head.
I mean, look, I've told you before. I’m in this to grab dirt on him. Bring him down.
But a part of me wants to give that up and just have sex with him.
Every. Single. Day.
I shouldn't want to...I shouldn't do what I did last night.
Well, let me rephrase that actually. I shouldn't do what I did, thinking of him. That's just wrong.
He’s a sick man whore. Dirty. Lewd. Lascivious.
I shouldn't focus on his muscles or his smile, or his smirk, or his eyes, or his huge...ego.
I should just keep running.
But I stop when I see a black SUV slowing down next to me. On one side I have some stores. I slow down a little bit as the car comes to a stop.
Is it the Royal Security people? They’ve given me a wide berth since I moved in yesterday – and while I was cumming my brains out.
But it's not. A person gets out, and the sun is in my eyes so it takes me a moment to tell, but eventually I make out that its Jake.
"Well, look at what we have here," he says and I see only anger in his eyes, and all of a sudden I get uncomfortable.
"Jake, what are you doing here?" I ask, rolling me eyes at his theatrics.
"Alicia, look at my face," he says, not smiling. I look him. He’s blocking my way and advancing menacingly. Jake is no Derrick, but he’s still bigger than me. “This is how I get when I’ve been ignored for a week.”
"What are you doing here?" I ask again.
"What am I doing here? I'm here to find you," he says, grabbing my arm. My heart starts to race. What is he doing? He's my ex-boyfriend.
"I’ve been calling you nonstop for the last week," he hisses at me, "You haven’t answered or called back at all."
“You lost your privileges for me to answer your calls when you started cheating on me,” I answer back, grabbing my arm away.
"You were never planning on having sex with me were you?" he asks me, seething. "I bet you were never going to give it up to me, ever. Well I didn’t date you to get nothing out of it, so I’m going to take what's mine and you’re going to like it, you stupid bitch."
I try to pull away but Jake's too strong. I'm panicking. What are they going to do? Jake used to be my boyfriend! What's going on!
“I wanted to wait until I was ready!” I yell at him.
“Oh yeah?” he sneers. “So when I go to your apartment in the early morning and don’t see you, you’re ready now all of a sudden?”
Oh my God. Jake destroyed my apartment!
“You’ve been giving it up to someone else after kicking me out, slut?” he asks me with a sneer. “After all the time I put in, you’re spreading your legs for someone else? Fuck that, I’m taking what’s owed to me.”
I recoil in fear. He looks at me and smirks. But not the infuriatingly cute smirk of Derrick. This is a cruel smirk, filled with malice and spite. His arm tightens around me and it hurts!
"Don’t resist, or else say goodbye to that sexy body of yours, Alicia," Jake hisses at me. I look into his eyes and for the first time I see a deep reservoir of anger, poison and hate. How could I miss this side of him for so long?
This is a deserted stretch of road. I wonder even if it's worth calling out for help.
Derrick
You want to know where I was last night don't you? You want to know who His Royal Highness, with his 11-inch cock was fucking after he left the condo? It's in your head and you're trying to picture to yourself that slut that I was ravishing.
I was with a Princess all right. Her name is Princess of the Sea.
That's right. I went to the marina. To my fucking sailboat.
I'm seriously going fucking mental sitting here, staring at Daphne. I'm buying her presents, for fuck's sake.
But don't you fucking dare tell her where I've been off to, or we’ll have some fucking words. Now fuck off about why I sat there, looking at the stars, drinking scotch on my sailboat. Don't ever ask me about it again.
Besides, I need to clear my fucking head of Daphne and that was the only place to do it. It wasn’t even a whole fucking day of us living in the same apartment and I can’t get the thought of peeling her tightly clinging sundress off her gorgeous body and licking those massive fucking tits of hers. Of squeezing that fucking gorgeous ass. Of bending her over and sticking my cock deep into her. And when she starts talking to me, telling me about that fucking ex-boyfriend of hers or just conversing with me? When I find out there’s a brain inside of her head? That’s when I finally lost it.
I'm playing with fucking fire here – cavorting around with a stripper. We're looking at a scandal the size that's pretty much fucking incomprehensible.
Seeing Daphne in those black yoga pants and blue sports bra this morning has got the blood rushing to my cock like nothing else. I consider going and taking a shower and doing something about it.
But something catches my eye. Daphne, in her rush to avoid embarrassment, has forgotten to take her the panic key that Pressly gave her yesterday. A panic key is something that our security has given us. No matter where we are, as long as we're in the perimeter, anything happens, you push the panic alarm. Whether you tripped and fell, someone's trying to rob you, or you see a cat that's up in a tree, you push the panic alarm when you want security to come down.
She should have never left it.
Don't look at me like that. I'm not fucking chasing her. Besides, she couldn’t have gone far and knowing her, I’m betting she headed downtown than through the Park – she’s probably going to run by her fucking apartment to pick up some stuff.
I shrug to myself and grab the key, walking out the condo and into the elevator.
Besides, what the fuck kind of host would I be if I let something happened to her?
Which, considering her embarrassment, may already have happened.
Besides, I'm grinning at the thought of seeing the most innocent stripper I’ve ever met blushing uncontrollably when she sees me again, after she got caught dropping her nipple clamp.
I knew she'd love it.
But seriously, Daphne must be fucking new to stripping or something. I’ve never seen a more wholesome and innocent woman in my life. A normal stripper, she’d be all over me right now – fucking shucking off her clothes and climbing on my cock before she even moved in. She’d be doing the nastiest things to me after I rescued that boy who fell off the boat.
Daphne – it’s like she’s grown up around real princes and princesses.
Fuck, she acts more royal than me.
I'm on the bike, driving down 6th Avenue, looking at the sidewalk seeing if I can find her. Yeah, it's a fucking long shot. But my head is so fucking confused right now that the drive will do me good even if I don’t find her. Finding that nipple clamp this morning was intense. My cock stiffened so fucking fast I thought I was going to rip my boxer briefs.
A mile in, I see something that causes me to stop.
I see Daphne in the distance. And it l
ooks like there's a black SUV that's pulled up on the side of the road. And a bloke that’s yelling and frothing at the fucking mouth and grabbing her by the arm and throat. There’s no one else on the sidewalk nearby and I see that fucker grab her and pulls her off into the side street.
I pull out my phone and speed dial Pressly.
"Pressly, tell Sam I need backup," I tell him. He's on his way. I hang up. He knows my coordinates from my panic key.
I look over again and I freeze.
Fuck me, if that bloke is the fucking Jake that Daphne was talking about then I’m going to kick the living shit out of him.
I see him move over and take Daphne by the arm. She's trying to pull away but he slaps her on the face.
That's fucking all I need. I'm not letting security handle this shit. I rev up my bike and head straight for him.
That’s fucking it. He has no idea what he’s unleashed.
I can hear her scream for help.
Fuck my visa. I don’t care if I get fucking deported tomorrow by the DA. No one fucking touches Daphne like that. I push down on the gas. Hard.
The man looks over as my motorcycle comes up, but I don't fucking stop. I'm going to run him over.
He looks at me and, grabbing Daphne towards the SUV.
“Get off of me, Jake!” Daphne yells and manages to take advantage of his distracted gaze towards me to free herself.
So this is actually the fucking wanker Jake, is it? This wanker is in for a real fucking treat.
I steer my bike right into him and he gets out of the way at the last second, but trips on my wheel and falls to the ground.
I hop off the bike and make sure Daphne is okay now that he’s let go of her. She’s leaning against the wall. I make sure she’s all right and then turn back to the guy as he’s standing up. He's sneering at me.
"So you like reclaiming your manhood by hurting women, huh?" I spit out.
He doesn't say anything. He just pulls out a knife and waves it at me frantically.
