Out of the Darkness (Untwisted #2) (8 page)

Chapter Eight – Nathan

All through primary and secondary school, I was bullied and taunted because of my introverted ways and avoidance of eye contact. When my brother Nicholas was old enough to join me at school, he had fared no better. In fact, the teasing had got so bad that it wasn’t often that I even bothered to interact with other pupils. Judgemental tossers, the lot of them.

By the time I had reached college at the age of 17, I still had no real friends and had never even dared look at a girl. From listening in to the conversations in the lunch hall, I knew some of the guys in my class had girlfriends who they kissed and touched, but I had found it impossible to imagine how such a relationship could develop between two people. My role models were my parents and although they did sometimes kiss each other or hold hands, I also knew that my father’s beatings extended beyond myself and my brother to my mother too. Was that how it was supposed to be between a man and woman?

Completely coincidentally, this question was inadvertently answered for me later the very next month on a drizzly Sunday. Sunday nights were ‘early to bed nights’ in the Jackson household, with both me and Nicholas in our rooms by 9 p.m. As well as being early to bed night, Sunday was special to myself and Nicholas because it was also the only night in the week when we wouldn’t receive a beating; in fact our father wouldn’t come to our rooms at all. I had thought this might be because it was God’s day, but whatever the reason I was always thankful for the extra smiles I got from my little brother on a Sunday.

Knowing I shouldn’t have had an extra glass of lemonade with dinner, I sat on the edge of my bed and wondered if I could hold my pee until the morning. It had only just gone half past nine, my mother had bid me goodnight half an hour ago, but I knew if my father caught me out of bed so soon after curfew that I would be in for a punishment regardless of what day of the week it was.

Squirming on my bed for another few seconds, I decided that at age 17 wetting my bed really wasn’t an option, so I abruptly stood up and crept to the door. Opening it as quietly as I could I thanked God that the temperamentally squeaky handle had miraculously remained silent tonight as I pulled it open.

Tiptoeing along the corridor, I paused when I heard pained gasps whisper in the air. Spinning towards Nicholas’ bedroom, I hurried to check that my father wasn’t breaking his Sunday rule, but as I peeked in the darkened room all I could hear was Nicholas snoring lightly.

Frowning, I crept back towards my parents’ bedroom. The door was ajar but it was forbidden for me to enter so I went to make my way past to get to the toilet when another more fevered moan of pain reached my ears. After hesitating for just a second or so on the threshold I peered in the crack of the door.

My eyes widened at the sight before me. My mother was completely naked on the bed facing away from me crouched on her hands and knees. Her thighs, buttocks, and the majority of her back were glowing an angry red colour, marked with a criss-cross of feint welt like marks.

Marks like mine.

For a second or two I was unable to comprehend what I was seeing, I was torn between the perversity of looking at my mother naked and the overwhelming desire to assess the criss-cross of marks on her skin that were so similar to the ones that often coloured my own body after my father’s beatings. Just then, my father stepped into view, fully dressed and holding something in his hand that seemed to have 10 or 12 thin leather straps attached to it. I had no idea what it was, but it certainly wasn’t the belt that he used on my brother and I. He raised his hand, and I knew he was about to bring the implement down on my mother’s buttocks.

I was considering going in to help my mother, but I was too afraid of what the consequences might be if I intervened. Would he turn that awful whip thing on me too?

Not wanting to witness the unsavoury sight of my parents together, I had stumbled on to the bathroom in shock. As I staggered away, I was surprised to hear my mother moan again, but even to my sexually inexperienced ears it was quite obviously a moan of pleasure. Was that normal? Usual behaviour between a husband and wife? Perhaps it was. After all, my father always told me that the beatings I received were no different to the ones my friends would be getting at home too. Not that, as ‘Freakoid Jackson’, I had any friends to ask of course.

After so long of being controlled by my father I was becoming keen on the idea of breaking free and extending my own control somehow. Perhaps it was teenage hormones kicking in, but lately I had been thinking about getting a girlfriend of my own.

Wanting to know that the beating and sex between my parents hadn’t just been a one-off I had crouched outside my parents’ bedroom door on several Sunday evenings to see if they always engaged in the same activity. Thankfully the sight of my parents fucking never aroused me, but I watched because I thought that perhaps this was important for my development as a man, after all I was nearly 18 now, and like any red-blooded boy my age, I was intrigued by the idea of sex.

My findings were conclusive; although the positions they took were often different, the outcome was the same, my father would order my mother about in low, demanding tones, beat her, or hold her down, but no matter the treatment, she clearly loved it.

Apparently, that was the way sex was done. Now I knew the method my interest in getting a girlfriend was definitely growing, as was my libido.

Chapter Nine – Stella

After our first great night together – who was I kidding? It hadn’t just been great, it had been body-melting, mind-blowing, exceptional stuff – Nathan didn’t touch me again sexually for well over a month, much to my complete frustration. A whole frigging month! Instead, the following week when I arrived for my first full weekend with him he explained that we needed to go through a brief period of non-sexual training to build our trust, an explanation I couldn’t help but meet with a petulant frown.

I was horny as hell and yet he was set on denying me. Wasn’t he horny too? Since last weekend’s amazing sex I’d struggled to think of anything apart from getting into bed with Nathan again, but with his reluctance my doubts started to grow, perhaps he didn’t feel the same way? Had he changed his mind about our agreement?

Seeing my fractious look Nathan’s lips twitched, he seemed to be trying to withhold a smile,
bastard
, but he did at least have the decency to try and explain his thinking. ‘For the things we are going to do together you will need to trust me implicitly, Stella, otherwise you won’t be able to relax and get the full potential from the experiences.’

Blushing considerably, I nodded my understanding and began to wonder just what type of training the inexplicably sexy Nathan had in store for me. Standing this close to him, his sheer magnetism was just impossible to ignore and I found myself wanting to move nearer to him, even though ironically the idea of being in closer proximity to his raw sexual intensity completely terrified me.

As stupid as it was, the thought that Nathan might be avoiding sex because he’d changed his mind just wouldn’t leave my brain and in the end, I couldn’t help voicing my fears. ‘Aren’t you horny, though?’ I asked in a humiliatingly needy tone. God I was pathetic.

The hot, lusty, downright illegal look that crossed Nathan’s face was all the answer I needed and almost had my knees buckling under me. Blimey
,
he could be intensely sexy when he turned it on.

‘I am, Stella, you have no idea how much I want to take you again. Repeatedly,’ he added darkly making me lick my suddenly dry lips. Allowing a short pause where I thought my brain might short circuit, he then flashed me another promising smile before adding, ‘But if you don’t relax and enjoy the things we do together then neither will I, which is simply unacceptable, therefore I’m afraid I must insist on training beforehand.’
Wow
, OK then, when he put it that way I suppose training would be OK.

I didn’t have to wait long to find out what types of things Nathan had in store for me because just then he produced a black velvet sash from his pocket and passed it to me. Frowning I ran it through my fingers – the material was soft and smooth and somehow erotic to touch, making me quiver. ‘To quickly build your trust in me you will spend the majority of this weekend blindfolded and completely reliant on me. Fasten the sash around your eyes,’ he instructed swiftly.

What?
Spend the weekend blindfolded? I’d only met this guy last weekend, could I seriously do that? Visibly shaking I opened up the blindfold and with wide eyes dared to make eye contact with Nathan to check if his motives looked sincere. My gaze must have shown my obvious hesitancy because Nathan ran the backs of his knuckles down my cheek softly in a reassuring gesture that sent tingles scattering across my skin.

‘I’ll find it a huge turn-on if you trust me enough to blindfold yourself,’ he explained huskily. ‘And you can trust me Stella, I promise you that,’ he added, his tone low and lusty and oh so sexy. Knowing that I had the power to affect him so much boosted my confidence slightly and so with a nervous swallow I lifted the soft material to my eyes and fastened it behind my head.

It blocked my sight completely. I’d thought I might be able to tie it so that I could peek out the bottom like I had as a kid when we’d played pin the tail on the donkey, or at least have a little light coming in, but the soft flexible material moulded to my face, cutting off all light.

The darkness was too much, I didn’t like the sensation one little bit.
Bloody hell
, suddenly I felt overwhelmingly claustrophobic and began to panic slightly, I couldn’t breathe … my lungs were too tight, my breaths coming short and sharp, and beads of sweat had started to form on the back of my neck as my hands rose and started to scrabble to untie the knot.

The next thing I knew my hands were pulled down, leaving me still blindfolded, but being cradled in two strong arms and I instinctively buried my head in Nathan’s chest and clung to him as I tried to calm my erratic breathing. ‘Shhh … it’s OK, Stella, I’m here, I’ll keep you safe,’ he murmured against my hair, his breath warm against my scalp and his touch infinitely reassuring.

This was crazy, I barely knew him, but Nathan’s words were ridiculously consoling to me and I felt myself relax immediately, air finding my lungs and soothing me just as his touch was. Somehow, I just knew that he was telling the truth, he might appear stern and unapproachable, but I intrinsically knew Nathan wouldn’t let any harm come to me. Besides, being in his arms felt so damn good that I stopped worrying about my lack of sight and instead focused on getting a sneaky feel of his chest.

The rest of my weekend passed mostly in blindfolded darkness. The only times I was permitted to remove it was when I was using the toilet or sleeping, and with the latter I was instructed to set a morning alarm and be blindfolded ready for Nathan to come to my room for 8.30 a.m. Apart from that Nathan guided me around his apartment, fed me, fetched me drinks and even more intimately, undressed me and silently washed me in the shower. This last scenario happened on both mornings and did nothing to quell my horniness, but even though Nathan was clearly just as aroused by it as me – even blindfolded I had felt his jutting erection brush against me several times – he did nothing but bathe and dry me. It was a little weird just how thorough he was with the washing part, actually, cleaning every single part of me and even scraping under my fingernails. I’d never felt quite so clean or well cared for.

As well as general tasks, Nathan also instructed me in the behaviours I should exhibit as his submissive, and patiently explained the things that would incur his punishments. He was so calm and kind that I couldn’t really believe it was the same intensely guarded man that I’d had the meeting with last weekend.

I couldn’t help but wonder if the presence of my blindfold, and thus my inability to make eye contact, had relaxed Nathan, but whatever it was that had caused his calmer nature I certainly found myself growing to quickly trust him and greatly enjoy our time together, and soon enough I was following his instructions without hesitation even in my blindfolded state.

The only hiccup that first weekend was on the Sunday night when Nathan asked me to allow myself to fall backwards into his waiting arms. It’s one of the ultimate tests of trust and used in stupid team-building exercises worldwide, isn’t it, but could I do it? No. Perhaps it was the disorientated feeling that the blindfold gave me, or maybe because the trust between us was still too new and fragile, but I couldn’t help but step back and save myself as I tried repeatedly to fall without fear.

My disappointing failure at this simple activity was the official end to my first weekend with Nathan. Steadying my shoulders after yet another unsuccessful attempt Nathan swiftly removed the blindfold and I blinked several times to help my eyes adjust to the light flooding back in.

Even though I’d been with him all weekend, it seemed strange to actually
see
Nathan. Gosh, he was so handsome that my knees suddenly felt a bit weak. Unfortunately the novelty of seeing his glorious features was soon forgotten when I saw the frowned look of disappointment on his face at my failure of his final test.

‘I’m sorry … Sir,’ I muttered, adding his title just to try and make up for not being able to follow his last simple instruction.

‘We will try again next week,’ Nathan replied curtly in a cool tone, his easy going demeanour seeming to have vanished along with the blindfold. Back to square one again then, I sighed heavily, disappointed that my gentle and caring man from the weekend had vanished so abruptly.

‘When you can do it we can move the relationship to the next level.’ His tone didn’t give away any emotion what so ever, but clearly, his words were meant as a carrot on a stick and I immediately translated them to “as soon as you can do it, we can have sex”.

Damn it!
Why hadn’t I just fallen back into his sodding arms? Then we might very well be having amazing sex right now instead of standing here awkwardly avoiding eye contact like two horny strangers. Well I didn’t know about Nathan’s state of arousal, but the heavy throbbing between my legs left me in little doubt that I was keyed up and ready to go.

That night as Nathan dropped me at home he parked the car outside my flat, turned to me and handed me a package about the size of a box of tissues that was wrapped in brown paper and tied neatly with parcel string. How curious. I glanced at him but his face was inscrutable, his stoic mask well and truly back in place. Given the nature of our relationship, I certainly hadn’t been expecting gifts from him, that was for sure. Licking my lips nervously I gave the parcel a confused look as Nathan began to explain.

‘I know you were probably expecting vastly different things from this weekend, Stella, but I appreciate your understanding that we need to build our trust first.’ Nathan paused and briefly glanced at me, his strong features looking stark and ominous in the moonlight. ‘You may be feeling slightly frustrated, but hopefully this package will ease that. There is a note inside, I expect you to follow my instructions to the letter.’ The look he gave me left little doubt that he meant what he said and it was all I could do to get out a whispered, ‘Yes, Sir,’ as I fled from his car. How ironic, I’d been the one to insist that I only called him Sir in the bedroom, but that was twice now that I’d opted to use it because I found him so bloody intimidating!

Almost as soon as I was through the door to my apartment, I was tearing into the package all the while knowing that I was exhibiting a complete lack of self-control that super cool Nathan would no doubt loathe.

Oh my God. A nervous giggle escaped my throat as I ripped the lid off the box only to uncover a large flesh-coloured vibrator nestled in pink tissue paper, sat on top of a white card. My eyes widened and I chewed on my lip as I examined it. I had never owned a vibrator before, I’d always wanted to, but had been too embarrassed to walk into a shop and just buy one. Now it seemed I had a man, my new dominant none the less, to do the purchasing for me. Blimey, it was massive. Blushing furiously at the sight of it I reached for the card trying to ignore the silky feel of the vibrators material as I moved it to the side.

Written in elegant and obviously male handwriting I read the note once, sucked in a shocked breath, and then quickly read it again.

Stella,

I trust this gift will relive any sexual frustration you may be feeling after our sexless training weekend. My instructions for your use of this toy are simple, I demand that as you push it in your wet, quivering body you think of me buried to the hilt deep inside you, making you come so fucking hard that you scream for me to never stop.

N

P.S. This toy is to be returned to me when we start a more intimate relationship, once we are sleeping together I will be the only one to make you climax.

Well, he certainly had a way with words didn’t he! Choking back a cough at his bluntness, I couldn’t help reading it again with wide eyes, imagining Nathan’s low lusty voice whispering the words in my ear. Good God. I was suddenly really hot and just in the process of using the card to fan my burning face when Kenny came waltzing into the kitchen with an empty wineglass in his hand.

It vaguely occurred to me that he’d obviously decided to exchange his vegetable liquid diet for another type of liquid altogether, and if I hadn’t been so shell-shocked about the vibrator in my hand I would have taken great pleasure in pointing it out to him.

‘Hey babes! I didn’t hear you get in!’ Kenny chorused as he made his way to the fridge for a top up while I frantically shoved the giant dildo back in the box and rammed the lid on to hide it.

‘Wine?’ He asked, leaning round the fridge door and holding up a bottle of my favourite Pinot Grigio causing me to nod silently. Yes, a cold glass of wine would be good right now; it might cool my raging libido a bit. Although given just how horny I was that was somewhat doubtful, I’d need hosing down with a lake’s worth of ice water to calm me down at this rate.

Luckily Kenny seemed oblivious to my lusty silence and set about pouring our drinks while I quickly read Nathan’s card again, taking a slightly ragged breath as I imagined him writing it with the vibrator sat on his desk and a dark smile on his face. My legs suddenly felt very wobbly. Dumping my bag down I gripped the edge of the breakfast bar and realised that my body was practically on the brink of an orgasm from just reading Nathan’s note. I rolled my eyes. God only knows what I’d be like when we finally had sex again.