” “Oh yeah right, like I’m going to tell you that,” I laughed. Jack narrowed his eyes at me in anger. I quickly made my exit before things got really ugly and rushed up the stairs to my room, shutting the door behind me. I started to get undressed, taking great care to hang my cheerleader’s uniform up. I was very proud of it. When I was standing there in my underwear the door was slowly opened and Jack was in the door way. “What are you doing?” I asked, covering myself. We may have had sex but he’d never seen me like this. “You know what I want,” he shrugged. He came further into my room. “Mom’s asleep in the room next door. She’ll hear us and we’ll get caught.” “She had one of her sleeping pills. She’s out to it. Now suck my dick,” he commanded. "You were late in getting home. Be a good girl and show me you're sorry." I took my time in moving. I stood there staring at him for a while and then after what felt like a lifetime I got down on my knees in front of him, dropped. It was weird because hanging out with my friends or anyone else, I was Captain Feminist, Girl Power, all that sort of thing. But when it came to sex, nothing beat being told what to do and when to do it…and if he felt the need to slap my ass for encouragement, well, all the better. By the time I met Ben I was 22, and I knew what I wanted—no, needed—from a man. At that time, I lived in a suburb off of New York City. My normal friends would’ve been shocked to know what I did when I wasn’t with them. Because they were so straight-laced and would not possibly understand, I was sneaking off to BDSM clubs and parties in the city on my own, getting to know people and searching for my ‘One’. I hadn’t found anybody yet, but it was fun to learn about the BDSM community; what fetishes were out there and whatnot. I saw caning displays and whippings and people in cages. I was propositioned by both men and women, which was just so hot, and I also had fun dabbling in fetish-wear. I should.
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