Compulsion (6 page)

Well, what did you expect? You’ve got a fuck-date for Saturday night. That’s not exactly a long-term commitment.

We pulled smoothly into a parking space opposite Majick, and I jerked myself free of the seatbelt and stumbled out of the car. Matt came up behind me and firmly took my elbow, leading me through the nondescript door into the chill, cave-like interior of the shop. Techno music shook the rarified air as my eyes adjusted to the dim light. I saw rows of metallic-colored clothing and aggressive-looking mannequins sporting skimpy eveningwear, accessorized with studded collars and wristbands.

Anxiety added itself to the cocktail in my stomach. A sales assistant bore down on us, a blonde. She was reed-thin and a good head taller than me, and attired in a gleaming purple dress that looked as if it were painted on to her skin. The skirt was so short that if she bent over to adjust one of the little buckles on her stripper heels, she’d give everyone in the shop an eyeful of pussy and ass.

She dismissed me at a glance and focused on Matt, leaning in to speak to him below the music and shoving her cleavage under his nose.

Well, look at him! Can you blame her?

He was all charm and friendliness and spoke to her for a minute or two. There was no way for me to hear what they were saying so I pretended to browse the nearby rail of clothing, feeling horribly self-conscious in my dowdy black dress and navy pumps. I didn’t know how to begin finding an outfit and I was quite sure this shop had nothing suitable for me. The smaller the scraps of fabric, the higher the price, it seemed, and I couldn’t even figure out what some of the items were…or where on the body they should be worn.

The shopgirl had returned to Matt with several items of clothing. He was looking at them critically while she posed and blinked up at him through her eyelashes. Eventually he took one and shook his head at her. She scurried away and he came over to me, leaning in closely to speak into my ear.

“I have your dress, Jane. Let’s go try it on.”

Goose bumps ran down my neck and arms from his warm breath. He took my elbow again and led me to the back of the store. There were three fitting rooms in an alcove off the main shop. He directed me to the one on the right.

It was a proper little room with walls that went all the way up to the ceiling, not just a cubicle. He shut and locked the door behind us and the loud music immediately faded to a distant pulsing. The sudden absence of sound made the air feel thick and heavy.

The fitting room was fairly spacious and had a polished wooden floor, and a wide, padded bench along the wall opposite the door upholstered in plush red suede. The two side walls had floor-to-ceiling mirrors and there was a mirror on the back of the door. A low-hanging lamp with a red shade provided a central pool of light, brightest in the middle of the room. It was strangely sensual.

Matt sat down on the padded bench, lounging against the wall, his thighs spread. He held out the bundle of fabric.

“Put the dress on, Jane.”

I would have to get changed right in front of him and I suddenly felt very shy. He’d aroused me several times already this evening and he’d see my wet panties.

“I’m surprised that you only chose one,” I quipped to cover my awkwardness. “I’d have thought you’d like to see some options.”

“I know what I’d like to see on you,” he replied, raking me with his eyes as if he could already see me in the new dress. I squirmed.

“What if it doesn’t fit?”

“It will fit, Jane. Stop wasting time.”

“Will you, er… Will you look away? While I put it on?”

His eyes widened. “I don’t believe this! No, I will not look away. But I think it’s time to teach you a lesson.” His voice dropped and took on a hard note of command. “Get naked, Jane. Now.”

Oh shit! He’s scary when he gets like this.

I scrambled out of my dress with shaking hands. He took it from me, folded it neatly, put it beside him on the bench and went back to staring at me intently. Reluctantly I reached behind me and unclipped my bra then slowly drew it down my arms and put it into his waiting hand.

“Fix your nipples,” he ordered.

I rubbed my breasts then pulled at my nipples, rolling them until they were hard and extended. My breathing was loud in the quiet little room and moisture was pulsing out of my pussy. He gestured for me to continue.

Gritting my teeth, I slid my panties down. It didn’t matter how I positioned myself—with all these mirrors, he was going to get a good view. I stepped out of the flesh-colored lace and reluctantly laid them in his palm. Holding my eyes with his intense gaze, he immediately brought them to his nose and inhaled deeply.

“You’ve made your panties sopping wet, you naughty girl.” His whisper was husky. “You’ve been bad today, Jane—defiant, disobedient… Now lie down on the floor.”

I stared at him, uncomprehending.

“Get down on the floor, Jane, now!” His voice cracked out like a whip and I jumped. I looked at the hard wood of the floor and back at his face. His features were rigid, hard, his eyes glinting. My heart started pounding and I sank to my knees.

“Lie down on your back with your head toward the door. I want to see your pussy.”

I maneuvered myself into the position he demanded. The floor was hard and cold, and I was keenly aware of the humiliation he was inflicting on me, but that didn’t preclude my titillation. I was awash with lust and anticipation.

“Put your feet up on the bench on either side of my legs.”

Oh god, I was so open. He sat between my raised legs, looking down on me, on my spread thighs and exposed cunt. He sat forward suddenly and pulled off his t-shirt. I had a quick view of his rippling chest and abdomen in the reddish glow of the lamp and then he tossed his t-shirt over my face.

“You may not remove the shirt from your face. Do you understand, Jane?”

“Yes, Matt.” At least it smelled like him. I loved his smell, couldn’t get enough of it.

“All right, Jane. I want you to touch yourself. Run your hands all over your body, especially over your breasts. Play with your nipples. Remember, I’m watching—if you do this well, I might go easy on you later.”

I groaned and trailed my fingertips over my abdomen and up my sides. My skin was ultrasensitive to my own touch. I circled my breasts then lightly ran my fingers from the bases to the nipples, again and again, the feathery touch making my skin tingle. The thought that he was watching me heightened my sensitivity. I imagined him following the movements of my hands with his all-consuming gaze and I arched off the floor, my legs suddenly straining wide. I pinched my nipples and stretched them, needing harder stimulation.

He made a sound like a stifled moan and I heard him moving. What was he doing, and was he going to touch me? Not knowing was agony.

When he spoke again his voice was tight and rough.

“Now finger your pussy, Jane. Spread all those juices around. Get your hands wet.”

He didn’t need to tell me twice but I was quite shocked at how soaking wet I was. I spread myself with one hand, like he had done to me the night before, and dragged the fingers of my other hand through my sopping curls. I found the soft skin at my center and began rubbing my clit, writhing my hips, thinking all the time of his hot stare on me. I felt the beginnings of an orgasm coiling in my core.

“Very nice, Jane. Now lick your fingers. I want you to taste yourself. You can lift the shirt away from your mouth but don’t uncover your eyes.”

I followed his instructions, not daring to peep as I rearranged the shirt, knowing that he’d be watching closely. I licked cautiously at my forefinger. I’d never tasted myself before. It didn’t seem too bad.

“Not like that! Put your finger in your mouth and suck it. Swirl your tongue around it.”

I could smell myself on my hand as I sucked my finger. It was sweet and musky, and I thought I could understand why he’d lapped it up so eagerly last night.

“Now finger-fuck yourself, Jane. Get at least two fingers up your pussy and work that clit. I want to see you come. Show me how you like it.”

I started to work a finger into my tight little opening. This was new territory for me and I was still tender from his invasion of the day before.

“Open yourself up, Jane,” he rasped, also gasping now. “You’ve got to get two fingers in there before you come. I want to see that little cunt stretch for me. Spread your legs more.”

To my shock he wedged his boots on the inside of my thighs, just above my knees, and forced my legs wider apart. The heavy cleats on the soles of his shoes dug into my skin as he pushed my legs up and open. My feet no longer rested on the bench but stuck up in the air as my thighs were folded mercilessly back over my body and held in position. I was brutally exposed.

“Get that other finger in there, Jane,” he commanded as my whole body began to shake. “You’re about to come, and you’re not allowed to unless you have two fingers in your cunt.”

As soon as he said the words I realized that I was about to come. I frantically shoved my middle finger up my channel next to my forefinger, causing a sharp pinch of pain, and burst into an agonizingly intense orgasm. I felt my own contractions around my fingers, on and on, until I reached the point of collapse.

But it was not to be. He kept his boots on me and didn’t release my legs despite their trembling.

“Wait, Jane. I’m enjoying the sight of you spread out before me like this. And I like looking at your little stretched pussy. It’s not nearly as stretched as it will be after I fuck you, but there’s a bit of gape from your fingers, and you’re shining wet from coming. I like it.”

Dear god, his words! I’d just come but I could feel another orgasm cranking up inside me.

“So what’s the moral of the story, Jane?”

“You can look at me, Matt, whenever you want to. I won’t ever try to hide myself from you.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” he murmured. “Well done, Jane.”

I heard a distinctive click. He’d taken another picture of me with his phone. Then he withdrew his boots and released me. I hardly knew what to do with my shaking legs but he was ready with his next command.

“Get onto your knees, Jane, and come here. You can remove the t-shirt. I’m going to teach you how to give head.”

I scrambled up to my knees and handed him the t-shirt, my eyes readjusting to the light. He was sprawled on the bench, legs spread out, with his jeans unbuttoned. His cock was out and his heavy testicles rested on the fabric of his jeans. He’d obviously been masturbating while watching me on the floor and was running his hand slowly up and down his shaft from base to tip.

“Get over here, Jane. I need your mouth. I take it you’ve never given a guy a blowjob before?”

“No, Matt, never.”

“Well, you seem to be a quick learner so I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it. Just so that you know, you’re going to swallow, not spit—understood?”

No!

“Yes, Matt.”

“Excellent!” He released himself and took my hand, placing it midway on the shaft of his cock. “Have a look and a feel then we’ll get down to business.”

I curved my fingers around it. They didn’t quite meet at the back and I wondered if he was big, small or average. I moved my hand experimentally up and down, copying what he’d been doing to himself. It was harder than I’d expected but the skin was softer and moved slightly with my hand. Matt groaned and under my fingers it grew a little thicker. He grinned at my surprise.

“You inspire me, Jane. I want to be as big and hard as possible when I take your virgin pussy.”

My eyes shot up to meet his. “You’re dirty,” I whispered to him, “and cruel. You’re going to hurt me when you fuck me.”

“Not really. You’ll be so wet, I’ll just slide in. But you’re right—I am cruel. I wouldn’t stop even if I was hurting you. You wouldn’t want me to.”

I looked back down at his thick cock. My pussy felt hollow and empty. He was right—I was aching for him to fill me up and I probably wouldn’t want him to stop. He had a knack for wiping out my good common sense with crazy lust.

“Hold it tighter, Jane. It’s not like your clit. You can be really rough with it and it will just feel good.”

I tightened my grip and pumped a little faster. His body undulated like a wave and an answering flash of excitement shot through my core.

“Now start by licking it all over. Get it coated up with your spit, nice and slippery.”

I did as he said, licking him from base to tip and back again, a few times. He had a stronger smell than I did and tasted quite different, but very exciting. I knew that he was watching in the mirrors, looking at my mouth, and also at my ass and pussy as I bent over him.

“Now start sucking the top.”

I slurped my way up to the head and took him into my mouth, immediately aware of the salty taste coming from the tip.

“It’s very sensitive just under here,” he said, indicating the area just under the bulging head, “so make sure that you rub that part with your tongue or lips as you go up and down.”

I tried it out. His hips bucked gratifyingly and I sucked harder.

“Now hold the lower part with your hand. Grip it hard and move your hand up and down as you move your mouth so that you stimulate the whole length at once.”

I couldn’t answer so I simply did as he said. He continued to move his hips in a thrusting motion and I let him inch a little farther into my mouth.

“You’re doing great,” he gasped. “Now feed me into your mouth as deep as you can, aiming for your throat. Keep up the hand action and watch out for your teeth.”

I angled my head over him and let him slide in farther past my lips, curious to see how deep I could take him. He butted against the back of my throat a couple of times and I gagged slightly but kept going. His salty taste grew stronger and I swallowed convulsively. He must have felt it because he gave a shouted gasp and bucked his hips. When he spoke again, his voice was so thick that I could hardly understand him.

“Oh Christ, yes, Jane! Now cover your teeth with your lips and use them to put extra pressure on me. And suck, baby. Suck me as hard and deep as you can!”