Push The Button (4 page)

“I am the Man that will snap your neck where you stand if you even fix your mouth to utter another word to My Bitch again.”

4:46 p.m.

Nicole glanced at the clock on her computer, nervously anticipating the end of her work day. She originally planned to take a 5:30 p.m. conference call, but rescheduled it when he told her that he needed her home by 6:00 p.m. He said that he had something “special” planned for her.  The important call had taken two weeks to arrange, as it included several directors from agencies across the Northeast.  She hated having to reschedule, but she knew better than to tell him “No” once he made it clear that he had made plans.  She wasn’t exactly sure how things had gotten to this point, but she did the best she could give their dynamic. She worked it out so that the call would take place in the morning and now sat at her desk tapping her fingers, working out a plan.  She could leave early, but her nerves were rattled and she was delaying the inevitable. She’d learned the hard was that with him, “special” didn’t always mean “good”. She didn’t allow herself to fall into memories of not-so-great times, so she turned her attention back to work.

She finished sending off the emails she needed to get out in preparation for the conference call and, after another fifteen minutes or so, began to gather her belongings. After a quick trip to the restroom to freshen up, she headed to her car and made her way home.  She popped in a Stevie Wonder compilation CD she made filled with her favorite love songs of his. She began to hum along to “Joy Inside My Tears”.  
You, you, you… made like history…you brought the joy inside my tears… 
Seemed like she’d had more tears than joy lately, but…that happens in relationships, she guessed. Traffic was unusually light this evening and she said a silent prayer of appreciation because being late was not even remotely an option. Pulling off of the expressway at the exit that would take her to her neighborhood, she began to feel sick to her stomach. Saying a silent prayer for mercy, she locked up her car in the garage and headed to their home.

5:58 p.m.

As she got off of the elevator, Nicole could hear the velvety tone of Luther Vandross’s sultry voice wafting through the hallway coming from their apartment.  She couldn’t help but smile because she knew that meant he was “in the mood”.  She shook her head at her own worry, exhaled the deep breath she only now realized she was holding, and walked towards the door. As she got closer, she smelled chicken frying. 
He is cooking? What on earth?
  She knew he had something “special” planned, indeed. If he cooked once a month it was excessive. The kitchen was certainly her domain and that is how he expected it to be, so whenever he cooked, she became suspicious. What does he want now? She tried to ignore the concerns developing in her head and keep an open mind. 
You never know…

She walked into the apartment greeted by a stronger aroma of chicken frying and a freshly-baked sweet potato pie, both his specialties. She remembered how he brought her a homemade sweet potato pie on their second date, which was rather impressive because it actually tasted delicious.  As she took off her coat, she could hear him making his way towards her. She looked up and saw that smile, the smile that made her weak still, years later. His parents spent good money on that smile, as he often joked, so he made it his business to flash his perfect set of teeth whenever possible. She loved seeing it now; it felt comfortably reassuring.

He walked towards her, reaching in to wrap his arms around her waist and bury his face in her neck. As he inhaled her scent, she laced her arms around his neck, gently biting his ear. She felt his response as he pulled her closer against his lower body.

“See, you trying to get things started already,” he chided.

“Well, Sir, you’re the one in here cooking my favorite foods and playing “big” Luther, and you said you had something special planned for me, so…” she reminded him.

“Mmmhmmm,” he moaned into her neck. “I absolutely do. But first, we eat! Go undress while I finish cooking and I’ll meet you in the dining room,” he said with a kiss on her cheek and a light smack on her buttocks. She jumped, giggling, and made her way to their bedroom.

While undressing, she thought about how this was a nice change for them. Things had been rough recently and Nicole had so many conflicting thoughts and feelings running through her mind, heart, and spirit.  There were more times than not when she felt like he didn’t have her best interests in mind or that he was being overly demanding. Sometimes, the punishments were harsher and hurt more than they should have, and they were for the slightest infractions. Yes, he was a sadist and she knew this, but something was different lately. She was beginning to feel like maybe he’d established some impossible standard for her that she could never meet or when she came close, he raised it even higher. Nothing she did seemed to satisfy him anymore. In the beginning, he lavished her with regular praise and prizes for her diligent service. These days, he barely uttered “Thank you” or “Good girl” when she provided him with good service, and it left her questioning herself and whether or not she was cut out to be a good submissive. She just wanted him to be happy with her.

This evening, however, he seemed to be in a different place, reminiscent of their earlier days. She couldn’t stop smiling if she wanted to; this was what she needed.

“Luna?!” he called out, summoning her.

“Coming, Sir!!” she responded, making her way to the dining room, having fully disrobed of her work clothes.

Rule #4: You will wear no clothing while in this house unless it’s that time of the month. You can wear panties then. You may also wear an apron when cooking.

“Do you need help with anything, Sir?”

“Not at all. I got you,” he said with a wink. “Baby, I know you’ve been working so hard lately and I know I haven’t been the most attentive. It’s just that the whole Junior situation has had me completely stressed out, yanno?” She nodded, understanding the weight he must be bearing since his older brother, Damon Jr., was arrested for armed robbery earlier that month.  His bail was set higher than their family could afford to post, so his brother was set to remain in jail until his trial began. No date was set yet, so their family was anxiously awaiting more information and trying to hold everything together in the interim.

“Just let me take care of you again, for once,” he said, looking tenderly into her eyes. She sympathetically met his gaze and smiled. She reached and caressed his arm.

“I appreciate it, Sir, thank you,” she said before digging into her food.

They enjoyed great conversation while eating. She updated him on some of her projects at work and he updated her about the progress with Junior, as well as some new contracts he’d secured. He owned a small construction business which was picking up more business in recent months.  His guys did amazing work and word of mouth was extremely positive, so he was beginning to reap the rewards of that with securing several new contracts that would carry him through the next 18 months at least. When they first met, he was still struggling with simply breaking even, but she recognized his potential and was drawn to his ambition and his drive. She’d given him a small loan early on, against her usual judgment and practice, but she had faith in him. He paid it back with interest within a year and he often remarked on how essential she’d been to his business developing into what it was now. She was quite proud of him, as he was of her.

“It’s funny you mention Lisa being pregnant…” he began. He put his fork down and looked across the table into her eyes again, his own growing darker. She knew this look, had seen it many times over the years. He was hungry, for her, and was about to feast.

“Stand up.”

Nicole stood up immediately. His voice changed. She knew where they were, in this moment.
“Come here.”

She walked over to where he sat still in his chair. He backed it up a bit and turned his body so that he was facing her. He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, his arousal making its presence well known.

“Down.”

 She immediately fell to her knees and bowed her head. He first trailed his finger along her temple, and then wove his finger into her hair, grabbing a tight handful when his hand reached the back. He jerked her head up and stared down at her.

 “Open up.”

She opened her mouth and he swiftly pulled her head towards him until he was nestled deeply in her throat and her lips grazed his freshly shaved pubic area. He gently guided her head up and down along his shaft, moaning with pleasure as her warm mouth surrounded him. He placed his other hand in her hair and quickened the pace. He then stood up, never breaking their connection, and began to move his hips back and forth, trying to get as deep into her as he could. He looked down and saw that her eyes were squeezed shut and tears were beginning to fall. He smiled, delighted, and held her face against him. He could feel her gagging and knew she was on the brink of regurgitation…and it felt heavenly. Her mascara began to run and he thought he would explode right then and there. Instead, he pulled her head back and simply stared down at her, panting and gasping for breath.

“Are... you done ...with my throat... Sir?” she eked out. “Did I… please you?”

“Of course, my Luna. You’re amazing, simply amazing," he responded, caressing her face. He pulled her up to her feet and kissed her deeply. He pulled her body to his and she began to unbutton his shirt. She felt her own desire peaking and she needed to have him inside of her. Before she could undo the fourth button, he hoisted her up and tossed her over his shoulder. She loved when he did that; it made her feel delicate and protected by a strong man. His long strides to the bedroom carried them both swiftly to their king-sized bed. In one smooth move, he placed her on the bed, spread her legs, and possessively entered her dripping wetness. She was more than ready to receive him and she wrapped her legs around his waist locking him inside of her.

He positioned himself above her, his long muscular arms bracing him above her head. He leaned on his forearms for support and he plowed into her. She met every stroke, thrusting her hips to meet his, keeping the beat to their perfect rhythm.  Within minutes he had her on the brink of orgasm.  He then grabbed her throat with his right hand.  She arched her neck back and he clasped his grip tighter around her throat. She began to shake as her orgasm consumed her, and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. He leaned deeper into her, pushing her legs back even more, trying his best to rearrange her internal organs if at all possible. He began to get frenzied. He tossed his head back, his shoulder-length dreadlocks cascading across his shoulders, and felt himself getting lost in her for several moments. 
The Rage
 began to consume him. She was gasping and wincing. He was hurting her… and he reveling in every second of it.  He let go of her throat and her eyes slowly returned to normal. She glared at him, the slightest hint of terror darkening her eyes, but did not stop offering herself to him, stroke-by-stroke. She reached up and grabbed his dreadlocks, pulling him down into a passionate kiss. He returned her kiss with bites on her lips. His 
Rage
 demanded blood, so he bit deeper. She yelped in the pain of it, causing him to explode deeply within her, shooting towards her soul. He collapsed into her breasts, struggling to find a steady rhythm for his own breath. She wrapped her legs back around him and wiped both the tears from her eyes and the slight trickle of blood from her bottom lip.

“Shit…” he muttered into her skin.

She couldn’t find her voice so she stroked his locks instead. After a few deep breaths, he pulled himself away from her and stood up. He looked down and saw her body, twisted up in the sheets, a trickle of blood smearing her face, and smiled, feeling himself stir again.

“And now… your gift,” he said with a devilish smile. He turned and walked towards the kitchen, leaving her in bed wondering what more could he have planned. She thought something “special” was the lovely dinner he prepared and this session was an added bonus.
What could he possibly have in mind?
Nicole thought to herself.  She inched up in the bed and felt herself getting sleepy. Yawning, she rolled over onto her side and closed her eyes. She heard him walk back into the bedroom, but didn’t roll over to face him. She was physically exhausted.

“Do you love me, Luna?”

“Mmmhmmm”

“Do you belong to me?”

“Yes, baby”

“Who owns you?”

“You do”

“Say it. Say my name. Say I own you!”

Detecting an urgency she didn’t hear a few moments ago, she rolled over to look at him and see what was going on with him. When she looked up, she saw him standing on the other side of the bed with a long piece of metal that appeared to be burning at the end. It was fashioned in some kind of design and was red, as though it had been sitting on a fire for some time.  She instinctively backed up further across the bed.

“W-w-what is that?!” she asked, growing nervous.

“You’re mine, yes?”

“Y-y—yes of course, Marcus, but what is this? What are you going to do with that?”
“What did you call me?”

“I’m sorry, Sir. I’m sorry!”

“Come here.”

She didn’t move any closer to him. She was beginning to put two-and-two together. He was carrying a brand in his hand and he intended to use it on her. That was his surprise. She shook her head, scrambling off of the bed. She did a quick survey of the room and realized he had her blocked in. Any direction she ran, he would catch her.

“Come. Here… NOW!!” he repeated, becoming annoyed with her resistance and hesitation.

“Sir, we haven’t discussed this. Are you going to brand me? Sir… I… I don’t… I don’t want that” she told him, fearful tears forming in her eyes.

“You want what I want. Remember? You committed to that when you surrendered to me.”