The Satyr

by Tiana Laveen

  She huffed and shook her head. There was no way this man would just let it go and worst of all, he must be feeling some sort of betrayal with his over-the-top reaction. But this was Nixon. What did she truly expect? He pulled out a cigar from his case and lit it, then took a drag as he stared at her.

  “Something is wrong. tell me. If you don’t, I’m going to ride your ass all night, and not in the way you want me to. I want you to come to me when you’re havin’ a problem. I don’t care how big or small. We’re connected. We’re one. If you’re not right, I’m not right.”

  It felt like the weight of the entire world was on her shoulders, forcing her to bend, threatening to break her.

  “Well, things got worse, and fast. I tried to speak to Terrell this evening about the situation.”

  “Yeah…” Nixon stretched an arm across the back of the couch. “So, what did he say when you voiced your concerns about the case being taken away and given to someone else?”

  “He said he wants me and Camden to work together on it, but I know that won’t happen.” She looked down and shook her head as she scratched above her ear. “It was mine. I shouldn’t have to share it. Secondly, Camden is not going to let me do my job. He’s shown his hand and he can’t be trusted. He came out of nowhere and blindsided me. He stole from me! I worked like a dog on this, and he gets to just show up like Mr. Golden Boy and steal it! These people stick together. I’m the only Black woman in that firm and I am sorry, but not sorry, Nix. You have no idea what I go through in this environment. You walk into the room and people trust you on sight! I walk into the room, they look past me thinking I’m the paralegal or a witness for some drug dealer! I am tired! I am fed the fuck up!” By the time she realized she was hollering, it was too late.

  “Thank you for finally telling me the truth. For the record, I agree with you. I’m not stupid. I know what happens out here in the world, Yasmine. I’ve dated too many Black women to not notice the fuckin’ stares, how some of you are treated when they think we’re not together, not knowing one another… Take a Black chick out to eat at a fancy place, get the ‘Will this be one check or two?’ I never got asked that shit when out with White women. It was constant bullshit. Even got followed in an upscale boutique one time when I was seeing this one Black lady. Another time, I was dating this beautiful Ethiopian woman and some people didn’t like it. Let’s just say I had a physical altercation and just for the record, I do own a gun. I know how to use it and I believe wholeheartedly in our Second Amendment rights. Anyway, I thought I might have to use it… But I never let any of that stop me from dating who I wanted to date. Fuck other people’s opinions. You can come to me and tell me these things without worrying about me having a fragile ego. I can take it. All of it.”

  Nixon stood, grabbed his keys out of his pocket, and made his way to her door. “Where are you going?”

  “To my car. I need to get my clothes since I’m spending the night. I’ll be right back.”

  As she waited for him to come back, she mulled over what he’d just said. Wow… I honestly didn’t expect that reaction from Nixon. I am pleasantly surprised. That’s… I don’t know… It’s great that he can put what I said in context. Regardless, I didn’t want to talk about this tonight… It’s not going to make me feel better to talk to about it at all. Like Goldie said, we’ll just have to go to Plan B, but right now, all I want to do is drink some wine, relax, and forget about it.

  She picked up the remote control and started channel surfing, trying to find something, anything that promised sure distraction. Oh, here’s RuPaul’s Drag Race… She placed the remote control on the coffee table and just as she was getting into it, her doorbell rang. Getting to her feet, she looked out the peephole then opened it. Nixon had a dark brown leather carry-on bag slung over his shoulder.

  “I got it. All set…”

  Back inside, they sat back on the couch and he placed the bag onto the floor beside him. He continued to smoke his cigar and remained quiet for a bit.

  “Got an ashtray?”

  “No, but I can get some foil.” She went to put some foil in a bowl and brought it to him. A few minutes passed while she waited for the other damn shoe to drop.

  “Do we really have to watch this?” She smirked and tossed him the remote.

  “You just love to complain, don’t you?”

  “I don’t wanna see this shit is all.” He shrugged.

  “Please don’t tell me you’re homophobic?”

  “What? I don’t give a shit what anyone else is doing in bed. What do I look like giving a single fuck about who anyone is nailing? Do you remember where ya met me?! The director there is flamin’, and a good ass friend of mine, and the host, Taz, has eaten more pussy than probably even I have! She and I are thick as thieves!” He had a point. “I just don’t like this stupid ass show.”

  “Don’t be uncouth.”

  “Uncouth? Now isn’t that ironic. Let me give you the rundown since your memory is short. My girlfriend invites me over, doesn’t ask me what I wanna watch or do, doesn’t offer any head, ass, or pussy, not even a hand-job. Doesn’t show me around her spot. Nice ass apartment by the way, too girly for my tastes, but I didn’t expect much less,” he stated with a raised eyebrow as he looked around. “Some host you are… fuckin’ lousy. But I’m the one uncouth? So much for the grand tour.”

  “Nix, you are a real piece of work, but that aside, point taken. I apologize. I’m just so distracted. I don’t have the patience for all of that tonight. I know, I know… It’s your first time spending the night at my place and I didn’t even do the proper walk through, but you need to cut me some slack.” She chuckled sadly and he smiled reassuringly.

  Then he stood back up. “Where’s the bathroom? And bedroom? I wanna freshen up and take my bag in there.”

  “Go down this hall and my bedroom is the door at the end of it. You can use the hall bathroom or the one in my bedroom, whichever you prefer. The master suite bathroom has some of my makeup and hair products on the vanity counter though.”

  He picked up his bag and headed down the hall. Grabbing the remote once again, she leaned back and watched the show. Before she knew it, she’d polished off her glass of wine and was itching for another. She could faintly hear the shower in her bedroom going, sounding much like soft rain. She tried to relax, but her nerves were still on fire, her mind racing with memories of a workday she wished had been simply a bad dream. She closed her eyes and laid her head against the couch. Moments later, she found herself grabbing the pillow she’d been propped on. She sniffed it, smelling his rich cologne, and smiled. Nix, you always smell so damn good…

  Then she suddenly woke and turned to look in the direction of the hallway.

  That’s music. He must be playing that from his phone. I know that song.

  Eminem’s ‘Love the Way You Lie’ was playing. She scooted a bit down the couch to get a better look. Things seemed relaxed. He’d left her bedroom door halfway open, and she could make out shadows bouncing off the walls.

  “Nixon?”

  No response. Perhaps he didn’t hear her over the television and the music. She rose from the couch and went to her bedroom, pushing the door completely open, then paused. Nixon stood with his back to her. He was completely naked at the side of the bed, seeming to be in a trance. On her white satin sheets sat an open book – a blank journal, similar to the one he’d gifted her. Next to it lay a pair of handcuffs. He slowly turned to throw her a look from over his shoulder.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I didn’t give you permission to come in here with me. I didn’t call for you.” His eyes darkened; his voice was low and rough. Her heart pounded in her chest. Raze is in control now… “Go back to the living room and wait until I call for you.”

  Her pussy pulsed, tightened, and cried out as she marched back out the room and sat on the couch. Seconds ticked by, feeling like an eternity. Every nerve in her body was screaming, her desire pulsed, and she knew s
weet relief was imminent. About a minute later, he called out to her.

  “Yasmine! Come! NOW.”

  She hopped to her feet, adrenaline rushing, and raced to the bedroom. She found him standing in the same place, and this time knew not to speak before he did. Her nipples hardened at the sight of his ass muscles clenching as he bent down to smooth out a wrinkle in the sheets. His eyes found hers.

  “What do you see?” he asked in an icy tone. His expression too was devoid of warmth, as though he were a different man from the one she’d been talking to in the living room.

  She’d heard this loaded question before. The kind that was so difficult to answer when he asked. He seemed completely consumed by his thoughts, dipped in a pool of sharp-edged lust.

  She drew closer to him and hugged herself. Looking at the bed, then back at him, she answered, “I see a place laid out for me.”

  “Very good. What’s on the bed?”

  “A blank book and handcuffs.”

  “What do you think they represent?”

  She deliberated on his question for a moment, suspecting she’d get the answer wrong.

  “The blank book represents an open book, maybe… and… the handcuffs represent bondage.”

  He smirked and nodded.

  “You were close. The blank book is half of you, the handcuffs are the other half. On one hand, with me, you’re open, willing to be explored to the fullest. I want to take you places in your mind and on your body that you’ve never been before. You fought at first, but now you’re giving into your nature and are becoming fulfilled. On the other hand, on the other side of you, you still struggle with restraint. I’m going to break you of that. Tonight. You’re ready.”

  He walked over to the right side of the bed, picked up his phone and turned down the music, then joined her at the foot of the bed. “Tell me again how you felt when you were told that you no longer would be working on that case?”

  “I felt angry…”

  “First of all, say it in the present tense.”

  “I feel angry.”

  “Okay, so let’s dig deeper. You used a better description earlier. What’s the word you used in your living room?”

  She stared blankly at him, trying to recall what he could be possibly referring to, then it hit her.

  “Blindsided.”

  “Yes.” He flipped the book closed, tossed it on the nightstand along with the handcuffs, and grabbed a silky piece of fabric that had been hidden beneath the book. He placed his hands on her shoulder and looked briefly into her eyes.

  “Turn around.” She did that, and stiffened when he blindfolded her. “Now, as you stand in darkness, not knowing what to expect, deprived of the gift of sight, you have to rely on your other senses to get you through the rest of this night. What can you use to help you navigate this experience you’re about to have?”

  “…Touch, taste, smell, and hearing.”

  “Yes, baby. Correct. And you’ll rely heavily on all of those this evening. Because if you miss something, it just may cost you…” He tugged at her dress and removed it. The fabric was roughly jerked down her arm, making the flesh burn. She felt the cool air, then his big hands all over her body. The dress puddled at her ankles. The next thing he did was unclasp her bra, and she shuddered when the warmth from his mouth rested on her cleavage. He was so close, breathing in and out… casting a shadow of intimidation.

  His moist tongue glided against her nipples, back and forth, and he massaged and rubbed the mounds, lavishing them with feverish oral and tactile affection. She clenched when his teeth pulled on her left nipple before enveloping it deep into his mouth, sucking hard. The sensation bordered on pain…

  …so

  …so

  …good.

  “Tonight, I’m going to use you. I’m going to fuck you for my very own pleasure. You’re not a good girl, Yasmine. You’re a fucking Nymph. You’re the best kind, too… the kind that has everyone fooled, the kind that is undercover. But behind closed doors, in that sick and twisted mind of yours, the parts no one sees, you crave to have a big, long dick shoved down your throat. If you’re deserving, I’ll let you suck my dick and lick my balls. Remember, it’s a privilege to taste my cum…and you’ll be drinking plenty of it…”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The Five Senses of Life

  Yasmine’s knees grew weak from his worrisome words. He feasted on her breasts once again, administering incredible affection to her tits in a way that made her feel adored, wanted. She could not help but wonder what he looked like as he did so… She heard his heavy breathing, felt the warmth and wetness of his mouth against her skin, and smelled his fresh and clean body.

  Moments later, he pulled away from her, picked her up in his arms, and deposited her unceremoniously on the bed. Something had switched in his brain; his attitude changed. The blindfold left her in complete darkness, cutting her vision.

  “I have absolute power over you, even in your own damn house. This is your territory, and I’ve fully taken over. You lied to me, tried to keep yourself away from me, so I will have to fuck you harder… harder than ever before. You’re going to take all of me tonight. Every fucking inch. I’m going to destroy your pussy… give you delicious pain…”

  She swallowed hard, her pussy wet and threatening to stream down her inner thighs. How helpless she was.

  “Owww!” She wailed when he tugged at her right wrist. Some sort of fabric was wrapped quickly around it, then pulled taut. He’s tying me to the bed. He’s tying me to this damn bed! “Nixon! Nixon!”

  He ignored her. She could hear him walking to the other side of the bed, and then he did the same thing with her other arm. She now lay flat, stretched wide.

  “Shit!” He grabbed her ankle, and now he was tying that, too, the soft material so tight. It seemed like he was taking an eternity, but it could’ve only been a minute until she felt the strain in her thigh muscles as her legs were opened so wide, it hurt. She couldn’t see him, couldn’t hear him, but she knew the fucker was there. His energy was like a dark cloud. But she wanted his reign, and his rain…

  I know he’s there… Looking at me… dominating me with his thoughts before even touching me again.

  “I know what this is now. You’re a Dom.”

  She heard him chuckle. He sounded as if he were pacing back and forth, slowly but surely.

  “I am whatever the fuck I want to be. Men like me are sometimes considered Doms, at least at The Cage.” His voice boomed and the sound radiated through her. “I don’t care for titles, I don’t call myself that because I don’t consider myself to be entrenched in BDSM society, but some in the Sex Club community find them useful. I believe people do what they wish. We follow our basic instincts, or at least attempt to. If someone tries to make us steer from those instincts, we find coping mechanisms, we go underground, we keep secrets – but we will always want, always need, always desire what we crave. I can’t be dominated in bed or anywhere, for that matter. You can’t be dominated at work, and yet, someone has tried. How insulting. However, in bed, you want to be controlled. Completely ravished.

  “You’re not a sub in the traditional sense, Yasmine. You’ve had no training, read no books, taken no courses. It just comes to you naturally. It’s your basic instinct. And that is what makes you so beautiful. You came into this world, my world and now, our world, organically. I could not believe my fucking luck when I saw you at The Cage. Gorgeous. Professional. Beautiful voice. Confident. And most of all, needing to be led and fucked until you could barely walk… There doesn’t need to be a title for what we are, and what we do. I told you titles don’t mean shit to me; in fact, they’re limiting, and I don’t like limits. But just know, you’re my plaything, Yasmine. You’re my toy. I will fuck you as much and as hard as I want. I will keep going until I get my fill. I will eat your pussy whenever I want to, make you cum over and over and I will fuck you in the ass without warning, if I so feel like it. We have an agreement, a binding verbal
contract. You only do these things for me. You only want these things from me. No other tongue, hands, or dick will do. You’re not a whore, but you are definitely my whore, twenty-four-fuckin’-seven. Do you understand me, you dirty fuckin’ princess?”

  “Yes!”

  “SAY IT!”

  “Yes, Nix… I am your dirty fucking princess! Your whore!”

  “I’m standing here, looking at you. You’re so amazing, so sexy. Every inch of you is a diamond, a piece of my playground. Tell me what you hear…” He grew quiet then.

  Her heart galloped and her face flushed.

  “I hear my own breathing.”

  “Mmm hmm… I do, too, baby… I do too…” She felt pressure on the bed. His scent was so intoxicating. He was so close… “I want to eat my pussy… I’m going to lie between these spread legs and eat what belongs to me. I love eating this sopping wet, slick, sweet kitty of yours. I dream about eating you over and over again. But let it be known and understood that I own this pussy. It’s no longer yours. It’s mine.”

  She cooed when his big hands wrapped around her thighs and his body nestled between them. A hot, wet tongue lapped at her core, starting slow, then building pace. She couldn’t move the way she wished; all she could do was writhe about, beg, and curse as her man sucked and tongue fucked her jewel with now lightning speed.

  “Mmmm! Such good pussy!” He moaned, motor-boating her pussy, sloshing noises filled the room. Her nectar trickled down her ass and thighs, and her body was no longer hers. He’d taken over, making her feel so alive. “You taste amazing, baby. What a pretty little pink cunt you have… If you’re a good girl, I’ll bless you with my cock – shove my dick in you, drill the fuck outta you and cum so deep inside you, you’ll be tasting and swallowing my fucking load…”

  “Ahhh!”

  He flicked his tongue fast and furious against her clit, in circles, up and down, and around and around.