Own My Soul (Sixty Days 3)

I could do this. Talk to him. Brandon Grant.

I could talk to Brandon Grant with enough passion to make the world realise I wanted what I was asking for. That I was desperate for what I was asking for.

The crackle of an intercom sounded before Mr Sinister’s voice came loud and clear.

“Be bold with your hands,” he snapped. “They’ll want to see how much you want them with actions as well as words.”

I nodded at nothing. “Yes, sir.”

He wanted me to show my excitement.

Touch and tease and play with myself. Show I was genuine with how much my body wanted theirs.

Brandon Grant would give me the genuine excitement I needed, even if he had broken my heart.

I calmed my breathing as well as I possibly could. Counted out the breaths down from ten, my eyes fixed on the camera light. Red blink after red blink.

I thought about the man I’d fallen so deeply for. I remembered the press of his flesh against mine. The heat. The power. The brutality.

How every cell in me had screamed for more of him.

I thought about the thrust of his cock stretching me wide and deep. How hard he’d hurt me. How hard he’d fucked me.

How much I’d wanted more. Wanted the limits. Wanted everything.

Fuck, how I’d wanted everything of him. Whatever he’d dished out. However hard he’d made me take it. I’d still take it. I’d still want it. I’d be taking it now if there was any chance he’d ever walk through the door and use me in this space.

I clenched my thighs. Felt the futile, desperate spark of my clit.

I needed him.

He was my saviour in my dark hours. The beautiful monster who’d set me on fire and made me crave it.

I couldn’t be here, alone, never to see him again. I could never cope with being abandoned by the creature who’d made me feel so alive.

I loosened my thighs and rocked forward, teasing myself just enough that my breath caught.

I could do this.

I could address the camera and believe it was to him, and tell him exactly how much I wanted him here.

My eyes were on the red light, ready. My eyes were focused tight on the glare as it blinked once more and turned to green.

The words didn’t come right away. I was a rabbit in headlights, knowing my face was being beamed out to a world of onlookers. A filthy, desperate rabbit who couldn’t stop clenching her thighs and feeling the buzz of want.

My nipples were hard and sore, jutting out through the thin satin. My breath was shallow and quicker than it should have been, my mouth open as I stumbled to find the best starting point.

“Please,” I said, and my voice sounded weak. Weak and needy. “Please come here to me.”

I pictured Brandon’s face. Pictured him watching. Because he was watching. I was sure of that. I pictured my eyes meeting his and tugging hard at his soul, his heart.

“I need… your touch…” I managed. “I need you deep… hard… I need you to make it hurt…” But I sounded distant and not desperate enough. I closed my eyes as I rocked forward a little harder.

I let my fingers skim down the front of the slip and catch my nipples.

Just for him.

This was all just for him.

“Please…” I said again. “Please come here and take me. Take me.”

I let my fingers glide lower.

“Please… you can have whatever you want from me…”

My thighs spread just a little, my heart racing as I pictured him watching. Imagined him getting hard.

“I need the pain that only you can deliver… I need your dangerous touch… I need to feel so much…”

My skin shivered at the memory of his chest against my back, hips thrusting as he held me.

“I want this so bad… want you so bad…”

I hooked my trembling fingers under the hem of the slip.

“Please come…” I whispered, and my eyes were wide on the camera, all for him. Honest. Needing. Wanting. “Please come to me… I need you to come to me…”

My fingers grazed slowly against my clit, and I was ready. I hated how ready I was. Rebecca was right about how your body comes to crave things with a life of its own, no matter what your brain has to say about it.

My body was already going crazy with a life of its own.

A life that needed Brandon Grant to breathe instead of oxygen.

I tried to control my breathing, but it was pointless.

“I’ll do anything you want…” I managed, with a raspy breath. “I’ll do anything I’m told, sir. Anything… it’s what I want… what I need…”

My fingers found their rhythm. I arched my back a little, enough that my nipples poked free of the satin, bruises no doubt clear to the world.

“I need to be punished…” I continued. “I need to be used and abused… and shown what it means to be someone’s property… please…”