I woke up on my mattress on the floor. I still hadn't replaced the bedframe that Mike had crushed weeks earlier. I didn't really care, but it did take more effort to stand upright, straining my tender ass in the process. I showered and reflected on the last week, particularly last night.
Mike had told me that he'd been unsure about relationships, him having never been in one before. He needed time to quell the new, dominant sex drive that I'd awakened in him, so I had foolishly agreed to let him do whatever he wanted to me for two weeks. I agreed to be his personal hooker, to let him dominate me, abuse me, or treat me like trash if he wanted, before he agreed to engage in boyfriend duty. His growing dominant streak had climaxed the previous night when he'd tied me up, mind fucked me, and planted a flag of discovery deep in my rectum.
I still needed to move slowly as I got out of the shower and toweled off. Putting on clothes was awkward. I sat back down on the edge of my mattress and crunched some granola, still unsure how I felt about things.
Mike had texted me in the morning with a brusque message.
-hope u slept well ill come pick u up at 7 and well go somewere chill-
It was the first time that I wasn't simply delighted to hear from him.
When I'd first met him at the comicbook shop, I'd been so in awe of his physique that any priority but sex seemed completely irrelevant. Such a big, tall, heavy, hairy, bearded, masculine man had expanded the limits of what I thought was possible in a partner. Then prodding him to be dominant and feeling him take control of me, inch by inch, had made me question if I even wanted a partner or, rather, a master. My quirk of lusting for big, controlling men had become so perfectly actualized that it was frightening to feel it manifest around me like a tight collar around my throat. Catering to him felt so satisfying and bizarrely fulfilling that the centre of gravity within my desires shifted from dating and life goals and hormonal yearning to simple submission. I'd been coasting on this high of being low for the last few weeks, but as I neared the one month anniversary of meeting Big Mike, bruised shoulders and stretched sphincters and tattered work schedules had made me question if I could go on.
Girl problems, am I right?
I finished my granola and got up with another wince of pain. I needed to go out, get some sun, and breathe fresh air. I needed to return to some normalcy before I could arrange my priorities into a sensible order. I needed to clear my head before I could decide what I wanted. Before leaving the apartment however, I finally answered Mike's text.
-Sounds good. See you tonight.-
Despite any confusion, I knew I wanted to see him again.
I kicked around town, accepting the discomfort of my wounded anus. I grabbed a coffee and scrolled social media, perused a few stores on a commercial strip downtown, stared at travel deals on the big lit-up board at the travel centre, and eventually remembered that I had money waiting for me at work. It took me about forty minutes to head in, but despite the mark Mike had left on me, I pushed through and hoofed it over to the restaurant where I worked.
I asked Cassie to see if there was money for me. Since I'd cleared my schedule at Mike's request, I'd barely been in at all over the last week. I'd forgotten my cheque when I'd worked last; my mind had been occupied with the sexual punishment that he had waiting for me at home. I only had one shift that I couldn't get rid of over the next week, and I was beginning to be glad for it. I'd sacrificed my schedule to be at Mike's service, and a day or two per week was a needed reprieve from his thrall.
"Where've YOU been?" Cassie asked. She was the day bartender; we only saw each other in passing at shift change.
"Oh, well...stupid mistake...I signed up for an online course at the same time that my family is visiting. So I kinda realized at the last minute that I didn't want to be anywhere near here and thankfully Marty didn't freak out. So I'll be back on next week like normal."
"Oh yeah?" Cassie didn't really care to assess the veracity of my lies, which was fine by me. She handed me my cheque and we shot the shit for another ninety seconds before she needed to head to her table.
I found myself lingering on the way out, using the bathroom, making small talk with the kitchen guys in the back, and staring at the paper schedule for longer than need be to confirm when I was next in. I think I just needed to soak in anything mundane, something that was completely platonic and bland.
After I'd exhausted the attention of whoever was available and it just started to get weird, I waved goodbye and returned to the sunny day outside. I was almost running out of bland things to do, so I headed by a nice park and sat on a bench. Families were about, kiddies were playing on a multi-coloured playground, teenagers were smoking weed sitting on concrete barriers in the parking lot, and a dog was shitting under a tree. I slumped in my seat a bit and resisted the urge to stare at my phone. I wanted to be blank and meditative.
I guess my brain was receiving its regular dose of female hormones, because I kept staring over at the kiddies and smiling. Their giggly conversation and lack of coordination was endearing as they chased each other around the playground. I watched the parents, either solo or dual, as they kept an eye on their offspring. I mostly watched the dads.
I imagined Mike with some fat little munchkins running around him. I pictured a whole pack of dark haired kids circling his ankles, with one fat baby slung over his shoulder, Viking-style. It made me smirk down into my lap in a total girl moment.
"Damn you, biological impulses." I got up and started to head back home.
I was never the type to get lonely and my childhood upbringing hadn't instilled much familial affection in me. The thought of being pregnant grossed me out. So, in an urge to maintain the commercial value of my sexual organs, I'd declared to myself at seventeen that I would never have children. I'd spent a few years at college, travelled, worked, modeled, honed my art, and gotten into a few drunken misadventures unscathed, all of which had never been diverted by the desire to settle down; the fact that that had changed so quickly so almost embarrassing to me. I couldn't believe that a guy could alter my internal chemistry in less than a month, and have me suddenly starry eyed at the kiddie park. So corny.
I got back home, slight fatigue in my legs somewhat replacing the tenderness of my ass. I stripped down to my underwear and started to stretch out. I'd ignored any workouts for a while now and was in need of a yoga tune-up. I hit the floor and delicately entered cobra. My ass didn't hurt too much, but it was enough to make me hesitate before entering any new position.
That was another roadblock to the topic of reproduction: my beautiful body. I've always been quite happy with the way I look; call me self-absorbed and you won't be lying. I've gelled a high metabolism with a strict workout regimen, and it's always helped me catch eyes, both guys' on the street and my own in the mirror. Despite any wit or wisdom I thought I possessed, my ego was supported by the backbone of my fit, slender physique. What Mike had done to me the night before, leaving his mark on me like he had, felt like he'd toppled the altar of that ego.
