Too Hip for Love

by Sindra van Yssel

  Uh-oh. Please say yes. Don’t say no. I don’t want to lose you.

  “I’ll think about it,” she said at last.

  That he hadn’t been prepared for, although he should have been. It had always been yes or no in his mind. He nodded slowly. “Okay. Will you stay here while you decide, please?”

  Karen hesitated and then nodded. “I think so. Yes.”

  * * * *

  A month later, Karen was still thinking. She knew it wasn’t fair to leave Parker hanging, although a part of her felt he’d kept her hanging for years. Still, she’d never pressed, so how was he to know she wasn’t satisfied? What he offered was everything she had wanted for a long time. She loved serving him. She loved giving him pleasure. And she loved the pleasure he gave her. It could keep her happy for a long time, but she still wouldn’t have any kids. He still hadn’t said I love you.

  She was getting around better now, not needing the crutches at all. In fact, as long as she didn’t try to do anything athletic, she was perfectly fit, and there was no reason for her not to go back to her own apartment except that she liked being near Parker.

  She had wrapped up her work for the day and was cutting carrots in the kitchen while wearing only a loose oversize T-shirt and some slippers. They’d worked out a simple arrangement—he cooked dinner but left instructions for her to do the prep, since she usually finished working before he got home. She was doing it standing up to put more weight on her knee. As long as she didn’t run or do anything strenuous, using it was supposed to make it get stronger faster.

  She heard him as he entered the door and put down the knife so that she could go greet him. I like helping him take his jacket off, she told herself. The fact was she looked forward to his kisses.

  His black trench coat was already off when she got there, but he still had his sport coat on. He waited for her to get close, and she reached out for his coat. Instead, he grabbed the T-shirt and pulled upward. She lifted her arms obediently, and in a moment, she was naked. In the next she was in his arms, his tongue in her mouth, one hand on her ass. He had a way of making her feel soft, sexual, desirable, pretty.

  She wished she could sink to her knees in front of him and take him in her mouth. Pleasing him was so simple. She liked to serve, and he’d waited on her far too much lately, but kneeling on a hard floor was one thing she still could not do. He lifted her off the ground and moved her so that her back was against the wall and kept kissing her. He roamed her body with his hands, reminding her that she was his and that he found her sexy.

  Slowly, inexorably, she was becoming more his slave every day. And mostly, she loved it. He was her drug, administered with his tongue and his fingers. When he slid his hand down to her mound, she spread her legs in response as he had taught her. His fingers brushed her clit, caressed it for a few long moments while inside she got wetter and her nipples bunched up into tight peaks. Then he pushed two fingers inside her. He supported her weight with one hand on her ass, and the other probed her insistently, curling to massage her G-spot while his thumb stroked her clit.

  She knew what he wanted, and she resisted. She wasn’t sure herself whether it was rebellion, or a fear of falling under his spell, or that she wanted the sensation to last. She gritted her teeth, trying not to come. She told herself his pleasure should come first, that only when he’d come in her mouth or her pussy or her ass should she be allowed to climax, but that thought only made it harder. His touch was one half of his magic, his control the other. She had no control at all.

  With that, she gave up the fight. Her pussy squeezed around his fingers, and her back arched. She raked his scalp with her fingernails and screamed in his ear, but he didn’t flinch. He stayed there, milking every shudder and spasm out of her, extending her orgasm or making her come again. She wasn’t sure which or where one climax started and the other began. And when she was spent at last, he picked her up and carried her to the living room, sitting with her on the plush brown couch while she recovered with big, panting breaths.

  “My turn,” she said at last, reaching for his zipper. Hell, he could keep his coat on for all she cared now.

  “After dinner,” he said.

  She pouted.

  “And I do mean right after dinner. Don’t pout. I’ll use you when I choose, not before and not after.”

  She was tempted to pout again, in hopes of getting a spanking, but he’d do that when he chose too, and not because she was egging him on. For better or worse, he was far too perceptive for that, and if he thought she was manipulating him, he was more likely to make her sit in the corner than to spank or flog her. Still, the time would come for all of that, if she waited.

  “Is the prep done?” he asked.

  “Everything but the last few carrots. I’ll get them.” She started to get up, but he stilled her with a hand.

  “No, I’ll finish. You rest for a bit.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She sank back into the couch gratefully, but still wanting more of him. His cock. His love. Why doesn’t he say it?

  She flipped on the TV, not wanting her train of thought to derail her postorgasmic high. She could all too easily vacillate between being sure he loved her, because of his actions, or being sure he didn’t, because if he did, he’d say it— Never mind. She wanted to enjoy the moment. The meaty fragrance of Brunswick stew wafted from the kitchen. I think I’m becoming addicted to his cooking too. It was all over the place, sampling from a variety of ethnicities, but today’s dish was probably learned from his mother, who lived down in North Carolina and was evidently quite a cook herself.

  The food was delicious and filling, as expected. She suspected she was putting on weight at his house, and she’d have to start paying more attention to how much she ate. Tomorrow. Maybe he’ll make something not quite as yummy that won’t test my resolve. I never liked okra before, but it’s fascinatingly good in this.

  “Go to the bedroom,” he told her. “And wait for me. On all fours, legs spread, eyes closed. I know how I’m going to use you, but I want you to wonder.”

  Her traitorous pussy moistened at the thought. Two weeks ago, she couldn’t have done that, but now her knee was healed enough that she could, at least on the soft bed with most of her weight forward on her arms. And then he would come in and take her however he chose. “Yes, Sir.”

  There was a bottle of lube in a drawer of the nightstand near his bed, and she took it out in case he wanted to use it. And a condom. He’d offered to fluid bond with her, and she was very tempted, but it would be tantamount to accepting the contract and agreeing to exclusivity. They’d been exclusive the last month anyway. But for now, it was enough that she made the supplies available. She climbed onto his bed, enjoying the feel of the soft blue jersey sheets, and grabbed a pillow for her head. She sprawled out crossways to the way they slept because the head of the bed was against the wall. He might want to walk around the bed and use her mouth instead of her proffered pussy and ass.

  She waited. He was putting the dishes in the sink, possibly loading the dishwasher, she assumed. They’d do the dishes that needed to be hand washed together later. How quickly we’ve fallen into a rhythm.

  Hearing his footsteps, she closed her eyes and listened. He entered the room and walked halfway around her. Her mouth salivated at the thought of sucking on his cock, but instead of continuing, he stopped and opened a drawer in the chest near the foot of the bed. She had turned her head away from there, and now she wanted to open her eyes and twist to look. But he’d spot that right off. It was a desire not to disappoint him, more than for obedience itself, that kept her in position, and she chided herself for that.

  She felt him put something on the bed. Heard a couple of metallic sounds that reminded her of luggage being opened. Another sound or two. She couldn’t figure out. A slight buzzing she knew she ought to be able to place but couldn’t.

  “Eek!” she screamed as he touched her side. Although he didn’t quite touch, just brushed against it, but the touch was
shocking, literally, and it took a force of will not to try to jerk away. He grazed her again, this time on the right butt cheek, interrupting her attempt to make conscious sense of it. But then she realized what the buzzing was.

  A violet wand. She knew he had one, although he hadn’t pulled it out for a while. It got its name from the way it could make a glass electrode glow, but that’s not what he was doing. He’d plugged the device in and attached a metal lead from it to his own body, electrifying it with very low amperage but high voltage electricity, the same kind that could make your hair stand on end. Now, whenever any part of his body got very close to her without making good contact, a tiny spark would leap across the gap between them, shocking them both. The only thing was, he knew when and where it was going to happen, and she didn’t, so she couldn’t prepare.

  Sadist. And why am I positioned this way if you aren’t going to fuck me somehow?

  A shock in her pussy gave her the answer. The wetness intensified the sensation, she knew, changing the conductivity of her skin and making the sensation more intense. Not to mention that she had more nerves there anyway. His fingers played up and down her nether lips, lingering around her clit as she usually liked. “Oh my God. You… I don’t believe you… Oh, ouch!”

  “This hurts me just as much as it hurts you.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “For that, my dear, we turn it up a little.”

  “Bullshit, Sir?” she said. She was partly repentant, but she knew that wouldn’t mollify him, and maybe she didn’t even want it to. As intense as the sensations were, she knew he wanted to give her more. Wasn’t it good service to take that for him?

  And, if she was entirely truthful to herself, she wanted the intensity too. The pain. At first, from surprise, it had been anything but pleasant. But now? Yes. She wanted it.

  The buzzing got louder, proving he was true to his word. His fingers played across her ass, tickling her anus and her pussy. Left hand for one, right hand for the other, she suspected. He always kept them separate. The sparks had at least one effect in common regardless of where they were felt, making her clit swell and her pussy tingle.

  The pain and pleasure were almost too intense, and she wondered how much more she could take. When she was about to say something, he slid his arms around her waist and held her for a moment, grounding them both. Then he ran his palms over her breasts lightly, making them tingle again as the electricity jumped between them. He knows how much I can take. And he’s in control. A warm feeling washed over her and settled in her core. She ached for his touch. Even if it came with sparks.

  “How is your knee, girl?” he asked.

  She hadn’t thought of it since he started touching her, she’d been so distracted. Still, she felt a slight twinge now that she directed her attention that way. “I probably shouldn’t stay like this too much longer, Sir.”

  “You’ll push it too far if I let you,” he said. “Open your eyes, turn around, and sit on the bed facing me.”

  She did, thinking she could have stayed in that position a while longer if he’d asked her to or if it meant having his cock inside her. But she liked what she got to see too. He was naked, the metal rod strapped to his thigh with a Velcro strap. And his cock was rock hard. He liked doing what he was doing, obviously. Maybe he’d liked the view too. She reached for him and then stopped. “May I, Sir?”

  “Yes.”

  She cupped his balls gently and then realized she’d forgot about the violet wand for a moment as the shock hit her fingers. It must have hit his balls at the same time, but rather than jerking away he simply took her face in his hands, palms firmly against her cheeks, grounding himself. He tilted her head upward.

  She stroked him gently, looking into his eyes adoringly. His cock was so huge and firm, and she loved the silkiness of his skin there.

  “I want to feel something,” he said suddenly. “Let go.”

  She let go, and so did he.

  “Stick out your tongue,” he directed.

  She did, even though she feared the shock. She could do things for him she never thought she’d have the courage to do. He touched her tongue, gently, making it tingle. It was more intense than on her nipples but not as much as on her clit.

  “Good girl,” he said. “Now slowly bend down to lick my cock, get the shock, then soothe me with your tongue.”

  A bead of precum had formed on the tip of his cock, and she wondered if he knew what he was in for. Of course he does. He always tests out his toys on himself, when he can. The wet would make it more intense, and she knew her tongue would crave full contact with his cock as much as his cock would enjoy her tongue. She leaned down until her tongue tingled, but rather than following directions exactly, she withdrew it and slowly closed her lips over the head of his cock. Sparks flew between them. This hurts you more than it hurts me, for a change. Although the sensation on my lips is strong.

  He grabbed her hair and forced her down roughly. He was usually more gentle than that but not always. In an instant his cock was pressing against the back of her throat. She hadn’t meant to manipulate him—she was just being mischievous, but the moment he took back control, she knew that was exactly what she wanted. It made her feel owned, and that made her feel so very good. It was something she always wanted from him—that moment when he selfishly took over and sought his own pleasure—simply because it made her feel like she belonged to him. And now she wondered why she hadn’t signed the contract and given herself to him like she’d always wanted.

  He was so deep, though, that she gagged on him and started to panic. Just in time, he pulled her back slightly and let her relax. She breathed deeply through her nose. He’d never cut off her air. I’m fine.

  He reached forward and flicked off the switch on the violet wand while she calmed herself. Then, with gentle pressure on the back of her head, he urged her farther down on his cock. She took him in, past the point of comfort, loving the way he pushed her as no vanilla lover would. I can’t settle for a picket fence and kids. I’m just not that kind of girl. I ache to be a slave, to be used, to be allowed to be my most slutty self.

  She ignored the voice that said it was only half of what she wanted. She let him guide her head, holding it as he thrust into it. Let me make you come. Use me, Master. Let me be here for your pleasure.

  She felt him swell in her mouth, and she knew he was close. She rubbed her tongue against the underside of his shaft and squeezed his balls lightly in her hand, rubbing the spot between his balls and his ass that always seemed to make him come even more violently. She was soon rewarded, his cum shooting hot and hard against the back of her throat. His hands moved to her shoulders as his thrusts stilled, letting her take a little control again, and she moved her head to continue the friction, sliding her lips down his shaft until she’d gotten every drop.

  Then he pushed her back on the bed and pulled her legs apart. She oofed as the breath rushed out of her. “Stay,” he growled. The voice shocked her. And pleased her. She knew she’d gotten to him, that his lust had pushed him past the point where he could be so exact. She loved his usual self-control, but she liked this even more.

  He reached back behind her, grabbed the violet wand, and took the contact that led to his thigh out. Then he put in a glass electrode shaped like a comb.

  With the electrode only she would feel the shocks, although they tended to be milder. Still, the comb was one of the more intense attachments, because it made contact at the points and the ends rather than from a flat surface. He turned the wand on, and it buzzed, the light shimmering orange and purple inside the glass comb.

  He raked it over her breasts, sending tingles all over, tilting the device so that her nipples got the most intense shocks. “Now you’re going to come for me,” he said to her, his voice charged with intent. He pushed his fingers inside her, and she jumped.

  No, I’m not. She wanted to resist and not make it too easy for him. But she was wound from the play before and the anticipation and
the pleasure of giving him pleasure, and she knew she was primed. He’d have his way, in this and everything else. She looked down and could see a spark as the electricity jumped from the glass comb to her nipple, and she shrieked. A little pain, a little pleasure, and a lot of control—these made an irresistible erotic cocktail. The pressure built in her core toward the point of inevitability, where even if he stopped, she would still come; it just wouldn’t be very satisfying.

  But he didn’t stop.

  He ran the wand over her body, shocking her stomach, arms, and breasts, never being predictable. But his fingers—the steady rhythm, the thumb pressing on her clit, the stroking of her G-spot—his fingers were very predictable indeed, doing exactly what got her off the fastest. He knew her body so well, and her resistance was useless.

  She gasped as one particularly sharp shock hit her nipple, and that pushed her over the edge, her whole body tingling. Her toes curled, and she bunched the blankets in her fists as her pussy contracted around his fingers, wave after wave of pleasure sweeping over her. Even the shocks of the wand weren’t enough to get her attention in the wake of her orgasm, and he seemed to realize that as he set it aside.

  Then he surprised her. He leaned over and kissed her pussy. He raked his tongue over her clit. Whenever he’d gone down on her before, even for a moment, he’d always made sure she was tied up or blindfolded or both. Something to assert his dominance over her, as if to say I may be licking your pussy, but you are still the submissive. But she had no doubt of that anyway. She held her legs open for him as she felt the pressure build again. His fingers inside her and his tongue on her clit drove her to her peak.

  “Now,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper but still easy to hear in the stillness that was broken only with the heavy sound of her own breath. “Come for me.”