Lana's Awakening Read online

  “So is ‘stop,’ but you will never hear me say it.”

  He held her gaze a few seconds longer, then seemingly convinced, stepped forward, unzipping his pants. When he pulled his dick from his pants, she had her mouth open waiting for him. He lowered his pants far enough to keep the buckle of his belt and the zipper from his pants from coming into contact with her face, then gently holding the sides of her head, pushed his dick into her mouth. Lana felt it pause momentarily at the back of her mouth before sliding in deeper. Her uplifted head created a straight line from her mouth into her throat, and though there was some resistance, he had no real trouble getting its entire length inside her mouth. She held no delusion that any prolonged pressure of this nature would turn discomfort into actual pain, but it didn’t matter; she was where she wanted to be, completely vulnerable but in complete control. He held her head in place and fucked her mouth, gentler than she might have thought, but firmly, his pace quickening. His anticipation had been extreme and it was not long until she felt the head of his deck swelling against her tonsils.

  He pulled his dick backward, stopping when only the tip remained inside her mouth, and then as a loud grunt came from his mouth, she felt the hot release explode inside her mouth, easily filling it with his salty cum. He pushed forward some, now stopping at the back of her mouth, forcing some of the sticky mess into her throat, while causing some to escape and run down the corners of her mouth. She felt it as it dripped from her chin, while more found its way down her throat into the pit of her stomach, its warmth easily recognizable inside her. He milked the last of it into her waiting mouth before pulling his dick back out into the night air. She tilted her head backwards, swallowing as much as she could, the remainder slipping out of her mouth as she looked up at him and opened her mouth. With his hot jizz on her chin and lips, she looked up at him, whispering the most sincere thing in her heart.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Sergio put the short story down on the table when he heard the car stop outside the house. He had read it more times than he could remember, trying to understand if the open weirdness in it would explain why she wasn’t home. Her normal voice of love and devotion had been lost in this one, as she had woven a story with dark, unseen forces struggling to survive, making them out to be ‘good guys,’ oppressed by the masses, etc. It made no sense at all. Something was definitely wrong, but he couldn’t quite put a finger on it.

  He got up and crossed the living room quickly, looking outside to see who was dropping her off, but it wasn’t her. It was just some ass clown in a Nova who had stopped to let a cat cross the street. He looked at his watch again. It was almost seven o’clock. He had to get to the dinner, everyone was expecting their bonus checks, but where the fuck could she be? It wasn’t like her at all. No note, no Lana.

  Sergio returned to his chair and picked up the papers again. It was ten pages long, more than three times the usual length, handwritten in what looked like a hurry. She wrote this all in one sitting, he figured. But try as he might, he still couldn’t make any sense out of it, or anything else, for that matter. He had to go. He couldn’t wait any longer. He scribbled a short note on the back of one of her pages and left it on the table. It told her he had gone to the dinner and that as soon as she got home to meet him there.

  He left the house, and made his way across town, still unable to shake the feeling something was wrong. He had felt this way before, and he had been right. As he pulled into the parking lot of the store, it was clear he was the last one to arrive. The lot was full. He fumbled for his phone as he got out of the car, knowing it wouldn’t do any good to call Lana’s phone, since it was lying on the kitchen counter. She fucking knew better than to leave home without it. He hated to do it, but he thought it best to call Detective Tinkerton. He was worried, and Tinkerton knew the history, knew Lana. He would probably be able to convince him to check around some for him. He turned from his car as he searched his contacts for the number, but stopped. She was walking toward him.

  “My God, where have you been?” he asked her, wrapping his arms around her. She laughed as she hugged him back, knowing that he had been worried. Unfortunately, he had been the last thing on her mind.

  “I’m sorry, Sergio,” she said, really meaning it, “I went for a walk and time just sort of got away from me.”

  “Are you ok?’

  “Yea, of course. I hope you don’t mind, but when I realized how late it was, I came straight here, so I’m not really dressed.”

  “I’m not worried about that,” he said, the relief almost overwhelming him. “I was pretty worried.”

  “I know; I’m sorry. I can run home and change if you like.”

  “No, you look great no matter what you have on. It’s already started anyway. Let’s go in; they’re waiting on us.”

  He took her hand and led her to the door. Aside from the most obvious fear, he had been wondering if the return to the store had scared her. She hadn’t been back since everything had happened, and it was only when he got home and found her gone that he thought she might not been too excited about it at all. She had said it sounded like fun, that she’d like to see some of her friends she hadn’t seen in a while, but he had really started questioning that earlier.

  “Ready?”

  “Getting there,” she said, smiling at him as she walked past him through the doorway into the Wholesale Warehouse.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Tom Tinkerton grabbed a beer from his refrigerator and leaned against the counter. As he opened it and took a drink, he got a good look at his reflection in the door of the microwave. He tipped the can toward his reflection as a toast and took another drink. Well this day sure as hell took a turn he never could have expected. He took another drink then opened the refrigerator again. This first one wasn’t going to last long, he quickly conceded, so he grabbed another and headed for the living room.

  Surely, he was breaking some sort of law with this, he reasoned. Aside from the obvious lewd acts in the park, that was definitely illegal, he searched his brain for something involving the girl’s past, and his connection to it. Immoral? Sure. In bad taste? Beyond a doubt, but he couldn’t think of anything actually against the law about what they had done. Sure, there was always the possibility she would decide it was a bad idea to begin with. He’d have a hell of a time explaining his semen in her stomach, along with any minor scratch or bruising on her wrists from the cuffs. There was always that. Or maybe it was a set up all along. That wasn’t overly farfetched either. But actually, legally wrong? Not really.

  He pulled the lever on his recliner, lifting his feet while kicking his boots off at the same time. Another drink emptied the first beer. He knew it wouldn’t last. Good thing he brought another. Who the fuck could have seen this going this way? Sure, something similar had happened before, but that was fantasy; hell, he’d fucked that poor girl seven ways to Sunday in his head, but shit, he really never gave himself a shot at it for real. What a fucking day.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Lana Martin sat at the kitchen table listening to the shower run in the other room. Her head was spinning from everything which she had been through today, and she really didn’t want to do anything but go to bed. But that wasn’t going to happen and she knew it. She didn’t know how she was going to do it, but somehow, she was going to have to get Sergio to understand things were different with her. The game they played, the roles they had created had been her idea, she knew that, but they couldn’t survive now. She needed more, and she really didn’t think he was going to be able to give it to her, so to speak. But he had been so helpful, so loving, and she did in fact love him, she couldn’t deny that, but she had to accept who she really was, and so did he.

  She found herself wondering just how much he really didn’t see. He had never asked how she got to the store earlier, choosing to accept the fact she was there seemingly blindly. And how could he not know about the mask? How could he n
ot see how far she wanted, needed him to go when they were fucking. So much farther, past the point of safe words and restraints, couldn’t he see she wanted to worship him?

  Hell, he hadn’t even thought to question why she had spent the first 20 minutes of the dinner in the restroom. What was she doing, throwing her panties away because they were still drenched from the little tryst at the park? Was she brushing her teeth with a paper towel wrapped around her finger to get the taste of Tink’s load out of her mouth so she could kiss him without him just flat knowing what she had been up to? No, he hadn’t asked any of those things, just if she was ok, if she needed anything. Christ, the beautiful asshole even let her use the shower first, never questioning when she jumped at the chance.

  “I am such a shit,” she said to herself.

  She owed him so much. The problem was he didn’t seem to want everything she was willing to give him. That was one big fucking problem as she saw it. All she wanted to do was grow into what she was, to cast away the boundaries of conformity, though it still amused her to some degree that her idea of conformity resided within a world of people most others view as nonconformists. But that didn’t matter. She was just going to have to talk to him, or show him, something. She loved Sergio, but she needed him to let her be herself, no matter how much it hurt him to hurt her.

  What about Tink? You forget about that dick in your mouth already?

  No, of course she hadn’t forgotten. How could she? Christ, it had been absolutely wonderful. When she told him not to ask, he hadn’t hesitated; he just took over. Completely fucking took over. When he shot his load in her mouth, never asking if it was ok, she thought her brain was going to orgasm…would that be a brain-gasm?

  Well, he did fuck your head.

  Shut up. This was no time for jokes.Lana heard the shower turn off, and knowing he would be out in a matter of minutes, she needed to make a decision. Talk to him, and run the risk of scaring the shit out of him or worse, hurting his feelings, his ego, or figuring out a way to get him to go past that point he never seemed interested in going past? Either way, she was running out of time. The one thing she did know was that something had to change; she couldn’t go back to the mundane, not now. She only hoped he could understand.

  When the bathroom door opened, and he stepped out of the steam with a towel wrapped around his waist, she was standing there in front of him. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him deeply, burying her tongue in his mouth, pressing her body against his wet one.

  “What’s that for?” he asked when she broke the kiss.

  “For making you worry so much earlier. I was being selfish.”

  “You thinking you need to be punished, perhaps?”

  I’m thinking I need you to fuck me in my mouth like Tink did, shove your cock so far up my ass I can taste your balls. I’m thinking I need you to care enough about me to be yourself for once, your pure, unadulterated self.

  “Here’s what I’m thinking,” she finally said. “I’m thinking I want you to do whatever you want to do. Spank me if you like, fuck me if you like, whatever, but I want you to do what you want to do, not what you think I might want you to do.”

  “Is that right?” he asked her, his head tilted slightly to the side, questioning.

  “That’s right. There’s nothing you can do that’ll make me mad, disgusted or anything. I promise you that. Tonight, it’s about you, whatever you want, anything.”

  And there it was; her cards were on the table. The next move was his, and whatever that move was, it was completely up to him.

  “Why does this scare me?”

  “I don’t know; why does it scare you?”

  She stepped back from him and began to undress, holding his gaze as best she could, while slowly losing the silk robe, the night shirt. She watched his eyes as she stood before him, vulnerable, and with the exception of her panties, naked. His eyes never left hers as she rubbed her hand slowly between her legs, her tongue licking her lips in anticipation, in hope. She slid the panties over her hips, letting them fall to the floor. Stepping out of them with one foot, she kicked them at him with the other, the black panties striking him softly in the chest before falling into one his hands. His eyes did fall from her gaze now, drifting to the cleanly shaven pussy between her legs. She had never shaved it herself. The only time that particular skin had seen the light of day was when the psycho had done it at his house. But Sergio didn’t know about that; she had kept it from him, along with a few other details, the night she masturbated for her dinner being one, for reasons she still didn’t understand. It wasn’t as bad as some of the things she had gone through, things he knew about, read in the newspaper for Christ’s sake. But he had never seen her pussy shaved. The hair had pretty much grown back by the time she had moved in with him. So he just stood there, looking at it, a look of bewildered puzzlement on his face.

  It was a gutsy move, bordering on aggressive, something she wasn’t in the mood for, but she took a couple steps toward him just the same, allowing more of the light from the bathroom to hit her body. His eyes found hers again and he smiled.

  “You like?” she asked, finding a newfound appreciation for the coyness in her voice. He raised the panties to his face and inhaled deeply, his eyes still frozen on hers.

  “Yes, yes I do.” She stepped toward him again, pressing her body against his again and burying her tongue in his mouth. She could feel his dick beginning to stir, not completely erect just yet, but widening, preparing to stiffen. She gracefully went to her knees, looking up at him as his eyes followed her down. She loosened the towel from his waist and let it fall to the floor behind him. Leaning her shoulders forward, while keeping her head tilted upward, she found the bottom of his ball sack with the tip of her tongue. As she slid her tongue forward, first up the front of his sack and then up the bottom side of his ever stiffening rod, she felt his hand gently stroke its way through her hair.

  She opened her mouth as her tongue came over the tip of his dick and took him inside her, feeling as much as hearing, the moan from his lips. She rocked forward and back on her knees, sliding her lips over the length of his shaft. Then, perhaps in some final plea for him to take control, complete control, she stopped. With the end of his dick still in her mouth, she sat on her heels and waited. But not for long.

  He reached behind her head and pulled her forward gently until his balls made contact with her chin. Then, holding her head in place, he backed out with his hips, and then forward again. There he goes, she thought. No longer intent to wait for her to please him, he was pleasing himself. It was a small step, but it was definitely in the right direction. The speed in his hips increased measurably, though his rhythm faltered at times as he reached a quick climax. She could feel it coming, and was ready for it, but at the last second, he stopped short. Grasping his cock around the base, he slowly pulled it out of her mouth. What the fuck? She looked at the dick inches from her face in time to see several small drips fall to the carpet. It appeared to have swollen more than she had seen before, its head going from red to a deep purplish color, and then she understood. He wasn’t done at all; he was holding the orgasm back so he could do more.

  Be careful what you ask for…ring a bell, sister?

  Hell yea it did, but she couldn’t see regretting this, not by a long shot. Bring the pain, motherfucker, bring the pain. She was pulled from her thoughts abruptly as she felt his hand tighten around her hair, lifting her to her feet.

  “Anything I want?”

  “God yes, anything.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Tom Tinkerton shifted in his chair, the dream causing him to stir where he lay. He was back in the house, Daniel’s house, just like before. He had snuck in without being detected and was creeping toward the kitchen. Just as he started out of the safety of the darkness, he caught a glimpse of Daniel, turning and walking toward the bedroom. Tinkerton started to call out his name, but stopped, choosing instead to follow him. As the man turned through the
doorway out of sight, he caught a shimmering of some sort in his hand. What the hell was this fool up to?

  He eased his way through the kitchen and slunk along the wall. He could hear Daniel saying something, forced and not overly unstrained. Beneath his words, Tinkerton heard something else. It was the woman, the fucking woman. She was crying, almost talking; he couldn’t quite make it out. But as he stepped closer to the doorway, he could make it out, she was pleading, her words mangled, gurgled almost. Fuck’s sake, this was a shit storm. His hand went to the pistol on his belt, instinctively unhooking the leather strap over the handle grip, as he prepared to pull it out. He stepped out into the doorway. The man was leaning over the woman, strangling her while he raped her.

  “What the fuck are you doing?!” he shouted.

  Everything blurred. The woman looked up at him, straight in his eyes as she yelled at him to help her, her voice no longer strained. He pointed the gun at Daniel, only it wasn’t Daniel anymore. It was him, somehow it was him, strangling the woman, raping her, and all the while staring back at himself, laughing.

  “Help me!” she screamed again.

  “Yea, help me!” the man, the other Tinkerton, the Daniel Tinkerton thing said, mocking him.

  He squeezed the trigger…bang!

  The woman screamed. The Daniel, Tinkerton thing laughed.

  Bang! Bang!

  He jolted upright in the recliner, spilling the beer he still held in his hand.

  “Shit. Not again.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The bed they shared didn’t rest on a frame. Instead, the box springs and mattress lay flat on the floor. There were several advantages to this, and while one less place to try and get a vacuum cleaner under was one, the most important feature came to Lana now. Sergio led her, still gripping her by her hair to the bed, and with her still on her knees, pushed her up against the bed. Without the frame, it was the perfect height to allow her to stand on her knees on the floor, while resting her belly on the bed. It was in this position she now found herself, knees on the floor and hips pinned to the side of the bed.