ReunionSubmission (2 page)

I whimpered in protest. Surely he couldn’t be right?

“You know it’s true. I was out to get you, yes, but not the
way you thought.” His voice was suddenly strained and breathless, laden with
frustration.

“I was crazy for you, Sam. God, how could you not have seen
it? I spent my life trying to impress you, and all you did was lock me out.”
There was some real pain in his voice now too.

He ground his hips against me, trapping me between his body
and the cold porcelain basin behind me. His erection was hard and hot against
my stomach.

My head was spinning. I was trying to think, to remember,
but he was bombarding me with so much raw sensation. Was it possible that I
could have been so wrong for so long? It would take months on the couch with my
shrink to sort this one out. If he was telling the truth…

He slowly raised a hand from my side, leaning into me
heavily, as if he expected me to try to make a dash for freedom, and lowered
his head to mine, slowly, slowly threading his fingers through my hair and
twisting it around his fist, a strange mixture of tenderness and dominance.
Just before he kissed me I saw his lips tug down into a smile.

He brushed his lips over mine, once, twice, gently compared
to how he was holding me, and then abruptly he sharpened the pressure,
demanding entry to my mouth. I resisted for all of a second then gave up,
opening to him. His tongue surged inside and he kissed me deeply, deliberately
exploring every part of my mouth, every recess, giving me no chance to catch my
breath. Some small part of my mind was thinking that I would have been revolted
if anybody else had tried to kiss me like that, but his overbearing dominance
excited me like nothing I’d ever experienced before. I moaned and opened my
mouth wider, surrendering to his invasion, allowing him to bend me back over
the sink. He held me there with his arm around my back, his hand clamped in my
hair and his other hand spread over my ass, gripping and feeling me through the
fabric of my skirt. I couldn’t move, could only swallow his kiss and hope that
he’d let me breathe, my hands gripping his arms, fingers digging into his
biceps.

He eventually lifted his head, pulling me back upright but
not moving away from me. His eyes glinted with satisfaction as he wiped his
saliva from the corners of my mouth with his thumb.

“That’s the feeling I’m talking about,” he ground out,
punctuating his statement with a hard thrust of his hips against me.

I shook my head. “No,” I whispered. He couldn’t be right,
could he? Could I really want him like that? My sense of self-preservation was
screaming at me not to lose control, but where had control gotten me in the
last ten years? For all my success, I was deeply lonely.

“No?” he said, sounding angry, frustrated. “There is no
‘no’
with me, sweetheart. Not anymore. Do I need to show you?”

I shook my head again in wordless denial. I was utterly
confused and desperately aroused.

“I’m going to check you,” he rasped, “and if you’re wet for
me, then there’ll be no more arguments. You’ll come with me, and you’ll do as I
say.”

My heart pounded. Oh God! Every word out of his mouth was
making me wet. I could feel it throbbing out of my body as my muscles clenched
inside. He turned me to face the basins again.

“Pull your skirt up around your waist,” he said, his eyes
boring into mine in the mirror. I couldn’t believe that he could keep his voice
so level while issuing such commands.

“Remove your stockings and panties then bend over the basin
with your feet a meter apart.”

I stared at him in disbelief. Was he serious? A meter?

He moved to the basin next to mine and started washing his
hands very thoroughly. I could use this as an opportunity to run, I thought
frantically. But I didn’t. Instead I took a deep breath and started to tell him
what I thought, what I wanted. Mostly that we needed to talk.

“
Don’t
say a word,” he snapped, whirling to face me.
“Just do exactly as I said. We’re finally going to get at the truth here, and
not
by talking. If you don’t want me, you won’t be wet and you’ll have nothing else
to worry about. We’ll go back to the party and say goodbye.”

But if I was wet? Then what? I knew I was. And I knew that
he was the one, the only one, with some strange power over me, and over my
starved and rebellious body, because I started to do as he had instructed,
rolling my skirt up with shaking hands, until it sat around my waist like a
broad belt.

He finished drying off his hands and turned to watch me,
causing my body to riot wildly. How could I be doing this? How could I possibly
want this? But I did, more than I’d ever wanted anything before. The
realization left me breathless, uncertain, out of control.

“Come on,” he said softly, gesturing down my body. “The
stockings and the panties.”

I was trembling so badly that I could barely fumble my
stockings off. I placed them on the side of the basin then quickly pulled off
my bikini panties and put the little pile of lace next to the stockings.

“Very good,” he said approvingly. “Now carry on.”

I turned reluctantly to the basin and gripped the sides. I
was vulnerable, naked from the waist down, embarrassed but also helplessly
excited as he stood there, fully dressed.

I tentatively parted my feet, burning with a blush that
covered me from head to toe.

“Come on, Sam,” he chided. “That’s not a meter.”

He stepped close behind me and nudged my feet outward with
his, first the right one, then the left, until my legs were spread wide apart,
my heart pounding so loudly that he could probably hear it.

“Good.” He drew out the word. “Now bend forward. Rest your
forearms along the back of the basin.”

I did as he said, my body still under his weird spell, until
my torso was almost horizontal. I rested my head on my arms, hoping he couldn’t
see my face.

He immediately moved to kneel behind me and I jumped as his
warm hands ran up my legs to my ass. His touch on my bare, sensitive skin was
electric. He spread my cheeks and I almost fainted at the thought of how he
must be seeing me, all my openings revealed to his gaze.

“Samantha, you are beyond wet,” he breathed. “You know that,
don’t you?”

I moaned, too aroused to formulate an answer. I could feel
my juices seeping down my thighs in a way that had never happened to me before.

I jerked as he touched me, running two of his fingers up
either side of my clit and down again, stroking very gently. Then he was
pushing a finger inside me. I tensed up, expecting it to hurt, but the slow,
slippery invasion was unstoppable and unbelievably erotic.

He paused, his finger tightly sheathed in my cunt, his other
hand holding me spread open.

“How many lovers have you had, Sam?” he asked. “The truth,
please.”

“One,” I moaned, trying to wriggle on his hand, to bring
back the wonderful friction of that slow slide inside me. I was too aroused to
be ashamed of the obvious admission of my failure.

“Hmm. And how often did you make love with him?”

“Only once!” I was sobbing now, overcome by all the
sensations. “It hurt me. I bled for two days. He said there was something wrong
with me, that I was probably frigid.”

Simon made a strangled noise, something between a laugh and
a growl. “You are fucking not frigid! The asshole botched the job. How old were
you?

“Nineteen.” I was struggling in earnest now, the alien
feeling of his finger inside my tender channel tormenting me. He held me in
position effortlessly.

“God! You’re not a virgin, technically, but you might as
well be! That was just after we left school.” He cursed and his finger was
abruptly withdrawn, leaving me shaken but yearning to feel it again, clutching
the basin for support. “No wonder you’re so fucking tight! This is going to take
some finesse.”

He pulled me upright and rapidly yanked down my skirt. “Put
your shoes on, we’re going somewhere else!”

He pocketed my little bundle of stockings and panties,
grabbed my purse and took my arm to steady me as I struggled into my heels.

In a blink he guided me out of the bathroom, turning off the
light, and steered me down the corridor. He stopped at a door on the right and
tested the handle. It opened.

“Perfect,” I heard him mutter.

He pushed me through the open door into the darkness beyond
and shut the door quickly. The light flashed on and, blinking, I saw that he’d
located the switch next to the door. I heard the soft snicking sound as he
locked the door, closing us in together. “Just perfect,” he said again,
satisfaction obvious in his voice.

I looked around, still a bit dazed, and saw that we were in
the science laboratory. I remembered it well, although it had clearly undergone
at least one renovation in the intervening years. But I could not see, for the
life of me, why he was so pleased about it, or how it was any improvement over
the bathroom. It was gleaming and sterile-looking, shining lab equipment neatly
organized on the counter that ran down the far side of the room. It was school
holidays so the lab was clear of the usual experiments that one would expect to
see set up on the workbenches, and it all looked rather empty.

Simon stepped around me, cutting off my view of the room,
and I immediately reacted to the sight of his too-handsome face and arrogant
little smile. But instead of pissing me off, it was exciting the hell out of
me.

“I want you to take all your clothes off and put this on,”
he said quietly, in that tone that made my insides spasm.

I looked down. He held out a pristine white lab coat, which
he’d obviously taken from a rail next to the door, where a whole lot were
hanging.

I swallowed and met his eyes. They were the bright icy blue
of a winter sky.

“Why?” I whispered.

He took my chin in his hand and tipped my head back, looking
into my eyes. His fingers caressed my jaw, sending little sparks of heat across
my skin.

“You don’t get to ask questions, Sam,” he said. “You have a
safeword. It’s ruby. Unless you want to say ruby, you keep quiet, and you obey
me.”

I blinked at him, still looking for some sign that he was
teasing me, but his face was serious, stern even. I felt as if the floor of my
stomach had dropped away, a combination of fear and desire swirling through my
body.

“Why do I need a safeword?” I breathed.

“Do not use it unless you are sure you mean it,” he said
darkly, ignoring my question. “There are no second chances. Now do as I told
you.”

I looked ’round helplessly. I couldn’t believe that I was
going to do it, but I was. His words in the bathroom had shaken the foundations
on which I thought my antipathy for him was built. I was awash with questions
and uncertainty, but there was no fighting the surges of desire that were
sweeping through me, sensations that I never thought I’d feel, because
something was wrong with me. Now it seemed as if my senses were determined to
make up for years of deprivation, no matter the method or the price.

There was nowhere to change into the lab coat, no private
corner away from the harsh lights and his piercing gaze. With my eyes downcast
and my heart pounding in my ears, I slowly started to unbutton my blouse. I
took it off, unclipped my bra and quickly slid my arms into the coat, the stiff
linen rasping against my skin, abrading my nipples as I crossed it closed in
front. I was painfully aware of his eyes on me, scrutinizing every move, as I
reached under the coat and pulled off my skirt, stepping out of my heels at the
same time.

I faced him, feeling vulnerable without my heels, aware of
every inch of my naked skin under the lab coat, as I waited for his next instruction.

He didn’t speak but took me by the arm and led me to the
front of the room, where the teacher’s lab counter stood on a raised platform.
We stepped up together. He looked at the wide expanse of the counter, empty
except for the computer on one end.

“Climb on there,” he ordered, “with your head toward that
side by the computer. Lie down on your back.”

I did as he said, turning my face away from him in
embarrassment as I lay down on the hard surface. It offered all the hospitality
of a doctor’s examination table. I heard Simon open the door to the storeroom
and step inside, and craned my neck around to see what he was doing. The door
was ajar, just to the right of the blackboard, and I could see part of the
pantry-type shelves, closely packed with row upon row of lab equipment and
materials in hermetically sealed, sterile packages. He was out of sight but I
could hear him ripping open plastic. I couldn’t imagine what he was doing.

I quickly turned away when he exited the storeroom, closing
the door softly behind him. He paused to put something down then came over to
the counter and stood, looking down on me. I crossed my legs at the ankles and
folded my arms over my breasts.

“Oh no,” he said on a chuckle, “That won’t do at all. Put
your arms up over your head.”

He disappeared from my field of vision and a moment later I
felt him take hold of my wrists and loop something around first the left and
then the right. I realized that he had snagged me with the computer cable that
ran up through a hole in the counter. The thick cable did not hurt me or cut
into my skin, but it held me with no possibility of escape.

He returned to my side. “Better?” he asked. “More
comfortable?”

Was he mad? I shook my head and frowned at him, not quite
daring to speak. At least when he was touching me I could stop thinking about
what I was doing and just concentrate on the sensations that he gave me, but
this was just too much. He hadn’t laid a finger on me, except to steer me in
the direction he wanted to go. I was supremely aroused and painfully
embarrassed.

“Well, let’s see if we can improve things for you.”

He slowly lifted the one side of my lab coat, never taking
his eyes from mine, and peeled it back, exposing half of my body. My skin
prickled with gooseflesh and I shivered even though it was a warm night. He
peeled back the other side and stood staring at me. I pressed my thighs
together and shut my eyes in mortification.

When he spoke at last, his voice was low and hoarse.

“Sam, you are incredibly beautiful. Your body is perfect.
All these years of waiting, and you surpass my expectations in every way.”

He sounded so awed, so different from how he’d been up ’til
now, that my body flushed with a warm glow. I sneaked a look at his face. His
eyes were unnaturally bright and his gaze was riveted on my breasts. He
actually meant it, I thought, with a flash of assurance. He had me helpless,
tied up on the teacher’s desk, but he was looking at me as if I were a goddess.
A wave of arousal rushed over me again.

He must have seen the hot flush creep over my skin because
he stepped forward and bent over me. Looking up at my face to make sure I was
watching him, he rasped my nipple with the tip of his tongue then flicked it
rapidly back and forth. My already puckered nipple tightened still further and
I felt my body arching off the counter with the intensity of the sensation. He
replaced his lips with his fingers and moved to the other nipple, which he
rasped, flicked and stabbed with his tongue, making me moan and twist on the
counter. Then he covered it with his lips and sucked, drawing it into the
hotness of his mouth. My cunt twisted and contracted as he played, sucked and
rubbed, swapping from breast to breast, until my nipples were sensitized to the
point of pain. At some point I’d uncrossed my legs and he slid his hand down my
body, slipped his middle finger into my slick cleft, down past my clit, pausing
to rub the side of it, making me moan again, and curled it into my body. He
moved it slightly inside me, rubbing against a spot so sensitive that I nearly
came off the desk with a cry.

“Bend your knees and open your legs,” he instructed. “Put
your feet on the edges of the counter.”

I complied quickly, urged on by his finger, rubbing so
evocatively in my tight channel.

“Now leave them like that, do you understand? You may not
close your legs or put them down unless I tell you to.”

I nodded, trying to focus on his face through the hurricane
of sensation that he had unleashed on me, unwilling to do anything that might
make him stop.

But his magical finger withdrew. I whimpered, wondering what
I had done wrong, but he stood next to me again and stroked back my hair
soothingly.

“Don’t worry, I know what you need and I’m going to make it
all better.”

How did he keep his voice so level, so calm, when I was
gasping and panting?

“But we have a problem,” he went on.

We do?
I thought anxiously.

“You see, Sam,” he went on, “I’m a big man. My cock is big
by any standards. I can even hurt women who are highly sexually active.”

He reached behind him, where I couldn’t see, and when he
drew his arm back he was holding a big plastic test tube. He held it in front
of my face.

“I’m bigger than this,” he said. “This has a diameter of
fifty-five millimeters. It’s printed on the side here.” He showed me. “It’s the
biggest one they have in the storeroom.”

He reached back again.

“You are this big.”

He held a slender test tube before me.

“This one has a diameter of fifteen millimeters. It’s like
my little finger. You felt what it was like when I pushed my finger into you.
It was quite tight, wasn’t it?”

I nodded, my eyes wide. I couldn’t believe that we were
having this conversation but it was turning me on even more.

“I want to fuck you. I don’t want to go slowly or be careful
and gentle. I want to slam into you and screw your brains out. I want to leave
you so that you can’t walk straight the next day.”

I was riveted, shocked, aroused.

“But I can’t do that right now because I’ll really hurt you.
And while I want you to feel a little pain when I take you, I don’t want to do
you harm.”

Well, that was a passion killer. I would feel pain, and lots
of it. I remembered only too well how my one miserable attempt at sex had hurt
me, and how long it had taken for me to feel normal down there again. And my
boyfriend hadn’t been much to talk about size-wise, even to my inexperienced
eye.

My fear must have shown because Simon leaned over to kiss my
mouth, this time a more gentle, exploratory kiss, which had me writhing again,
wishing that he’d slide his finger back into my cunt.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered as he pulled away from my
clinging lips. “I’m going to get you ready for me. I’m going to stretch you,
and when you’re ready, I’ll slide in easily.”

I blinked in confusion. My brain was certainly not
functioning at its best.

He held up the slender test tube again.

“We’re going to start with this.” He held my gaze. “I’m
going to put this inside you now, to start loosening you up.”

My breath caught in my lungs and my cunt clenched violently.
I instinctively brought my knees together but Simon pushed them open again.

“No, no,” he said in that hard tone that made my insides
knot up. “You are not allowed to close your legs. You keep them open, no matter
what, or there will be consequences.”

I felt almost faint. He reached between my legs and ran the
rounded tip of the test tube around my soaking cleft, rubbing my clit. Then I
felt it prodding at the opening of my cunt. Little by little he pushed it
inside. I lay frozen, feeling the cold, hard length spearing my hot flesh,
opening my channel, burrowing inexorably deeper into my core. It butted up
against the end of my passage and he stopped pushing.

“Oh very good, Samantha,” he crooned. “You look amazing!”

He spread me open, pushing the lips of my pussy wide, and
examined me closely. Then he moved the tube in me, twisting it and turning it
in little circles. I felt it moving deep inside me, probing my inner tissues.
Oh God, I was actually going to have an orgasm.

But he stopped and withdrew the test tube. It slithered
hotly out of my body, warmed up by the internal furnace that he had lit inside
me.

“No coming yet, Sam,” he said warningly. “You’ve still got a
lot of work to do. That was only the first little step.”

He held up another test tube. “This one has a
thirty-millimeter diameter. It’s twice the width of the one that you just had
but only about half the width of me. I’m going to put it in you, and I want you
to fuck it for me.”

He did it the same way, rubbing it around my pussy, covering
it in my juices, stimulating my clit almost to the point of orgasm and then
slowly sliding it into me. It was much harder, much more intrusive, and I could
feel how it was splitting my channel open, stretching me to a new level. The
sensation of coolness spread into me as he worked it deeper and deeper, until
it reached my limit.

He took a moment to admire his work then pulled it out and
pushed it back in more quickly. I gasped.

“I’m holding it halfway in,” he said, his breathing rapid.
“Fuck it for me now. Move up and down on it. Use it to stretch yourself open.”

I dug my heels into the countertop and gave in to the urge
to move my hips. He watched in captivated fascination as I slid myself up and
down the length of the tube. My movements grew more erratic and he began to
twist and jerk the tube as I moved faster and faster, in pursuit of the orgasm
that he had denied me before.

But it was not to be allowed by my tormentor. He placed one
large, strong hand on my pelvis and pushed me down to the counter, pulling the
tube out as he did so.

“I said no coming,” he panted, his eyes glittering. He
reached down and unzipped his pants, withdrawing his cock. “This is what you’re
working up to. Take a good look.”

I stared. I hadn’t seen too many penises in my time but he
was right. He was huge by any standard. It was both long and thick, with
pulsing veins under the purple skin. He wrapped his hand around it and pumped
vigorously up and down, his head falling back, his eyes closing. God, he looked
hot, with just his dick sticking out of his clothes. I felt a renewed wave of
vulnerability at my nakedness.