by E. Jay Lames
“Thank you.”
“Is your computer okay?”
“Yes.”
“So, you’ve just been ignoring my emails then.”
I bite my lip in embarrassment.
“You know what that does to me when you bite your lip.”
I look at him. Our eyes meet. There is nothing but unbridled desire when we stare into each other. I realize how much I miss him.
We can’t take it anymore. We attack; making out and groping at each other furiously while everyone in the graduation is watching. We’re so lost in each other, we don’t even care.
“Oh, Chastity. What I wouldn’t do to you.”
“Sebastian,” I whisper.
There’s a long, shocked, bewildered silence throughout the hall as we fall to the floor in sexual congress.
“Do you submit to me, Miss Stool?”
“I do, Mr. Shade.”
We begin ripping each other’s clothes off right on stage. He is nibbling at my neck and suckling the tops of my breasts. I’m sure glad my one family member here is unconscious from alcohol consumption.
“Shall I dominate you, Miss Stool?”
“Please, Mr. Shade…I beg.”
He turns me on my stomach and takes off his belt. He pulls my pants off revealing my bare ass.
“Oh, I’ve been waiting for this moment, Miss Stool.”
I squirm underneath him, voluntarily helpless, ready to take my first real step as a Submissive. And what better place to do it then at my graduation, a ceremony of transition.
“I told you what I’d do to you. I’m going to spank you, right here.”
His voice is soft and soothing, and it’s damn hot. My insides practically contort with potent, needy, liquid desire. He gazes at me, wanting eyes blazing.
Should I run? This is it; our relationship hangs in the balance.
I stay.
He places his hand softly on my naked behind, fondling me. The ceremony is still on pause as this goes on. The chancellor walks over and whispers something in his ear, to the effect that maybe this isn’t the time or the place for this, Mr. Shade, sir. Sebastian just glares at him. The chancellor gets the message and steps out of the way.
Shade resumes. He sizes up my ass cheek and whap! He hits me—hard. Ow! That really, really hurt. I try to rise, but he holds me down. He hits me again, harder. It’s loud and echoes throughout the auditorium. Holy fuck it hurts! I try to wriggle away, there’s so much pain. More than I’ve ever felt before. He won’t let me get away.
“Keep still,” he growls, “or I’ll spank you harder.”
He rubs me first but then the blows follow: a rhythmic pattern of vicious slaps. He spreads the searing pain throughout. He then stops and rolls my battered body away. I’m languid and sore while lying by the podium.
“There, is that better?” he tells me.
There are tears streaming down my face. He walks over and tries to caress me. “C’mon, baby, I have to continue giving out diplomas.”
“No,” I hiss. “Don’t touch me!” His face is in shock. “This is what you really like? Me, like this?”
He gazes at me. All the other students do, too. As well as the starving African child.
“You are a fucked up son of a bitch,” I scream.
“Ana,” he pleads, shocked.
“Don’t you dare ‘Ana’ me! Especially since my name is Chastity!”
“Oh, right.”
I grab my diploma and storm off the stage. Shade is looking at me the whole time, staggered.
“Chastity,” he calls across the auditorium. “Can’t you ever love me?”
I stop. I think. Everything we’ve been through. But then I’m reminded: That. Shit. Hurt!
“No.” I walk out. As I’m now alone I fall onto the floor in pain: physical…mental…metaphysical…metamental pain. I’ve brought this on myself. Now, it is time to move on. I have no doubt. No more Sebastian Shade. No more BDSM. No more uncertainty about who I am.
I have found my life purpose:
I’m going to go out into the world and finally find out how in the hell they get that leaf-print in the coffee milk.
It’s a damn miracle how.
That’s what I think too, Subconscious. That’s what I think too.
THE END
