Waterfall

Shot Number 3

“YOU SICK BASTARD!” I proclaim snatching his phone from his hands before I could realize what I was doing. I quickly realize not only could you hear my moans, but he put his phone through the crack of the door I left open and videoed as well. It was all there. All of it. All of me! Fingerfucking my pussy. He had it for his own viewing pleasure on replay now.

“You delete this right now!” He smirks, “You really don’t realize how pretty it is when you play with your tight little cunt, do you?” I gasp again. I don’t understand why, but all of a sudden all of the fight goes out of me and I look down; feeling my face heating. He takes a step closer towards me and I cower slightly. “If I actually thought there was not one part of you that liked me having this, I would delete it this instant. But that isn’t the case, is it y/n?” My breath catches and I seem to have lost the ability to speak. It feels as though my mouth is full of dry cotton balls, evaporating my mouth of saliva and with it my ability to speak. “Cat got your tongue? Or do you just agree with me and can’t bring yourself to admit it?” He said. I glance up and scowl. How can he be so arrogant??

“I’ll tell you what, I already know where you live, but I’m assuming you don’t know which place across from you is mine. So here’s what I’m going to do; show up at my place tonight. If you come, you’re okay with me having the video and interested in more. If you don’t, well; then I’ll delete the video for good and you never have to see me again. Deal?” I look up and stare at him and nod my head slightly. At least this will give me some time to think about what it is I want; away from under his intense, penetrating gaze.

He tears off a piece of paper from his notebook and scribbles an address on it. “Here, I hope to see you soon, y/n.” I reach out to take the paper from his outstretched hand and watch as he walks away. I open it and look; sure enough it’s his address. And even more, his house is definitely on my street. I sigh and begin to walk to my next class, drained and confused; my head spinning with the events of the day.

I guess I need to figure out what it is I want to wear. Luckily my house is pretty close to his so I could just go home and change when I get out of classes. The bell finally rings after what has felt like the longest day of my existence. I put my laptop into my bag and begin heading for the door. I get to my car and start the drive home, my heart thumping harder and racing faster with every turn that gets me closer and closer to my street. Finally I pull into my driveway and go inside. Setting my bag on the table by the door, I reach down to pet my cat who meows appreciatively. I go to the kitchen to get her some food, and myself a glass of wine. God knows after this day I need it. I then trudge upstairs and begin the tedious assignment of looking for something to wear and with it, a way to do my hair. I finally settle on an outfit; a matching lingerie set that is black, with gold accents, a mini skirt, and a top that squeezes my tits together. Shoes will have to wait, as will my hair and makeup, I want a shower. I head to my bathroom and remove all of my clothes and step under the hot water. With it, I try to also remove the events of the day. I don’t know what to do, should I go or not? As I sit and sulk under the stream of warm water I realize that whether I noticed or not I already subconsciously made my decision. I already picked out an outfit. I chide myself. My inner conscience knows what she wants, and this time, I don’t agree.

I step out of the shower and dry off. Then I brush my teeth, and head out to my bed to grab my clothes. I put them on and sit down at my desk to attempt to do my makeup and hair. I end up going with a lighter look; pink tones and pale colors for the skin tone. It doesn’t necessarily go with the matching set I chose, so I end up putting on a deep red lipstick to finish the look. Spraying on some perfume, I take one last glance in the mirror. Why am I trying so hard?? I don’t even know what it is I’m going over for or agreeing to. If I don’t even know what to expect, why am I making such a huge effort??

I angrily grab my purse and keys, and head out to my car. I put the address in the gps, but then remember that he’s basically my neighbor. And obviously close, if he is able to see inside my window at night. I scoff and begin to just walk down the driveway and short sidewalk instead. I arrive at the end of his driveway and look up. The house in front of me is nothing like the others on the street. It’s tall, and looming. Almost with a Dark Victorian-esque style to it. This is the house that everyone envies in this neighborhood. Definitely the house I assumed was only for the more well-to-do home buyers. I get up the path and ring the doorbell. I stand quietly, legs shaking slightly as I listen to the deep chime of the bell echo its way through the home eerily.

He answers the door and my mouth falls slightly agape. He’s dressed in all black with pieces that accent nicely with their gold undertones. He’s wearing a black button-down that’s left with several buttons undone at the top. Not many, but enough so that I can tell his chest is broad and muscular. What!! Stop!! Why am I looking like this! Scolding myself doesn’t stop my eyes though. As they wander down I realize that his dress pants are a bit too tight; though they are hugging in all of the right places. His belt is a nice touch as well, adding the gold accents that match his jewelry and compliment the black nicely. I have to say, he does know how to dress. I bring my eyes back up to his hair as he runs his hand through it. Gelled and styled, it still falls unruly as it drapes in front of his eyes right at his temples.

“Like what you see?” He tilts his head and smirks. “I don’t dislike what I see,” I say. I roll my eyes in my head and groan. What a terribly awkward thing to say. What kind of response even was that?? He steps aside waving his hand to invite me in. I gasp as I step in and see the high vaulted ceilings with their dark paint, and gold chandeliers hanging in their midst. I definitely see that he has a color palette.

He saunters over to a bar-like table and asks if I would like a drink. I nod my head and watch as he pulls out a whiskey glass and pours something into it. He pours himself one as well, and I watch as I notice how veiny his hands look around the delicate glass cup. He brings mine over to me; “thank you,” I say. He takes a sip in response and beckons for me to sit. I sit on the riveted black couch and take a sip of my drink. He walks over to an ottoman that’s seat opens for storage and pulls out a flogger. I don’t know much about bdsm, or sex in general as a matter-a-fact; but I knew enough to know what it is he pulled out of the drawer.

He lets the tails of the whip run across his hand. My stomach starts doing butterflies and a throbbing sensation warms my lower sex. I shift uncomfortably in my seat and take another rather large sip of my drink. He turns and looks towards me, eyes alight with a fiery blaze I haven't seen in a man before. He takes a few steps towards me and asks; “have you ever had a dom before?” I gulp and shake my head. “Speak, you will answer me with your words,” he exclaims. “No, no I haven’t,” I manage to squeak out. “Then today is the day that that changes. On your knees.”