Good Girls Say Yes

Choosing to give him control doesn’t diminish me or make me less, it makes me brave. He doesn’t have any power that I don’t give him, and with the safeword I can always take it back. And deeper, this feeling of vulnerability, or trust, the fact that I can make myself powerless and not be afraid to be hurt…I never thought I’d feel that ever again. It feels like bubbles of joy are springing up underneath my skin, and I’m tearing up behind the blindfold.

“Do you understand?” he asks me.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Do you want to use your safeword?”

“No, Sir.”

Matthew presses his lips to my cheek. “Good girl.”

And then he starts to fuck me. I’m so wet, and I’m so ready, that I’m already on the edge with his first thrust. He kisses me long and deep, and I kiss him back as best I can without being able to move. I dance with his tongue, and I love the way he takes what he wants. He’s not afraid to take it because it’s his anyway—I gave it to him. I grip his hands harder and I can’t keep kissing him because I need to breathe. Every thrust of his cock knocks the wind from me and I never, ever want it to stop.

Matthew’s cock is stroking past my G-spot and hitting me hard and fast in that deep place that makes pleasure bloom everywhere and I need to come again. “Please, Sir, can I come?”

“I’m going to ride you hard,” he growls. “You have permission to come as many times as you like. And I want to hear you.”

He drives in again, and it’s like lightning. The orgasm crashes over me hard and fast, and I let him hear me, not quite screaming. I’m certainly not quiet though. The pleasure is there and gone in a flash, but Matthew hasn’t even slowed. It feels like that vibrator he left inside me: long, slow strokes that make me shudder with drawn-out pleasure and then speeding up until I’m barely holding on. And over again. And again. I haven’t come again even though I’m close, because Matthew knows exactly how far he can push me before he needs to pull back, damn him.

Suddenly I’m blind with light. He’s pulled off my blindfold and I can see him, so close and so real, those green eyes watching me. I can look down, just barely, and I see him pushing into me. The sight is like an electric shock to my arousal, and Matthew kisses me as I go over. I scream into his mouth, this pleasure a brilliant, brutal supernova. It sizzles along every nerve. I think I might be lit up, on fire, exploding like a firework and I don’t care because it feels so fucking good.

I come down and I’m dragging air into my lungs, gasping. Matthew is still touching me everywhere, and I tighten my fingers around his. “That…was very good…Sir.”

“Was it?”

“Yes.”

He grins. “Good. I’m just getting started.” And then he plunges in again.

* * *

I lose track of the times I come. Every orgasm bleeds into the next until it feels like my body isn’t capable of doing anything but producing pleasure. I’m drunk on it. Blind from it. My voice is hoarse from screaming. My muscles are so limp that there’s no way I would be able to stand, even if he would let me. I think we skipped dinner, because it’s dark outside. But I’m not hungry—I’m relaxed and satisfied and ready for sleep.

I know that he’s cleaning me up, washing me and cooling me, wrapping me in a blanket. He must have unbuckled me because I’m in his arms now, and being carried. I like how familiar this sensation is now, the gentle rocking movement and the warmth of his skin coming through the blanket.

He lays me down on a bed that isn’t mine, but is still familiar. We’re back in his bedroom, dark and comforting and perfect. I find my voice. “I thought I couldn’t sleep in your bed?”

“You’re still mine,” he says, voice low. “And I want you here, bound and inches away from me.” My arms are lifted and I feel the now normal sensation of being locked into cuffs. I try to pull down my hands, and I can’t.

“I’m going to stay with you? You won’t leave?”

His hand strokes through my hair, and my eyes close. I can feel sleep rising like a tide, relaxation flowing through me. “I’m not going anywhere.” The bed dips, and Matthew stretches out beside me, still stroking my hair.

I sigh, smiling, because somehow this is perfect. “Thank you, Master.”

There’s a soft hiss of breath and my eyes fly open. I’m suddenly awake and I realize what I said. Matthew’s staring at me, and the look on his face is one I’ve never seen before. It’s awe and joy and shock all mixed into one. I didn’t even realize I was saying it, it just came out.