Crazy Ch. 02

Author's Note: This story is erotic fantasy written by Cirelo. I reserve the right to be listed as the author of this story, wherever it is posted. If found posted anywhere except Literotica.com with this note attached, this story is posted without my permission. © Cirelo 2013

This is the second chapter in an ongoing series. It will make more sense if you start at the beginning, with "Crazy, Ch.1".

Enjoy, and thanks in advance for your feedback!

*****

Kat drove home slowly, not really focusing on driving. She could feel his cum slowly leaking out of her. It meant she had needed to grab an old t-shirt out of the back of her car to sit on, and also that she had not been able to put back on her sexy black underwear - which he hadn't even seen! But still, she liked it. It reminded her of the hot sex they had just had.

She smiled, reliving the memory. He had been so powerful, so dominant. It was making her hot just thinking about it. He'd just fucked her in an elevator, in public like that... and she had gone right along with it. Like a slut!

Just thinking the word made her shiver.

But that was the thing... it had not been her decision, it had been his. With him in charge, she felt... free. Free of responsibility, free of doubt, of guilt, of indecision. Free of the constant feeling that she was making the wrong choice. Again. Free of worry that it was her illness that was making whatever it was seem like a good idea, even though she might realize later that it wasn't.

She had been able to turn off the little nagging voice that always made her doubt herself. She knew Sam, knew that he was clear-headed and logical, and smart, and careful. She knew he made good decisions. And she knew that he cared about her. Even if he did not love her - it had taken a long time for her to admit that, and even now it hurt - even if he did not love her he would still do what was best for her.

"Because that's who he is," she said out loud.

So, she'd let him be in control. He had been reluctant at first, of course. And his idea of a trial run had been a good idea. Logical. Careful. Just like him.

The thing about the trial run was that it had made her realize just how wonderful a plan this was. With him in control she could stop thinking, stop worrying, and just...be. It was wonderful. And so sexy! When he had told her to blow him, in the elevator, she had just done it. Well, she had misunderstood him at first, but when she did know what he wanted, she did not think about it, she just acted. Just like that.

It had been so hot! She had not been worrying about whether he would respect her after, she had just been focused on pleasing him. Feeling his hard, hot cock in her mouth, tasting him, smelling him. And knowing that at any moment someone could just walk in on them was exciting, but without the fear of having to deal with the consequences. Because she was just doing what she was told.

She loved it.

She couldn't wait to get home and write up the contract. She knew mostly what she wanted to be in it, because she had been thinking about this a lot. In fact, mostly she could just copy stuff she had written in her journal while she was getting ready to talk to Sam. So, write up the contract, and... crap. Had he told her to do something else when she got home?

She could not remember, but she figured she would remember later. In the meantime, she wanted to... make cookies. She was feeling all warm and fuzzy inside, and it made her want to bake. Cookies. For him.

She smiled, turned up the radio, and drove home.

*****

I sat in a booth this time. Same bar as last night, of course, but my favorite table had been taken by a group of frat boys. I had arrived a little early; I'd had some errands to run in the area that had taken less time than I thought they would. Still, it was already a few minutes past nine, and she had not arrived yet. I wondered if she would.

I was not sure if I was hoping she would come, or hoping she would give up on this crazy idea. On the one hand, if she did show up, this certainly would be interesting. Last night, our trial run, had been fun for once. All of the things that had plagued our "relationship" before had been gone. Although, it had only been one night.

But this would be... cathartic. I had spent so much time and energy trying to deal with her crazy shit over the last year. So many times, she had figured out how to hold something over my head, and I had been forced to try to figure out how to deal with it. I had felt, again and again, in different situations, for different reasons, that I had to convince her to do what I wanted rather than whatever crazy bullshit she was saying she was going to do. And I had felt so utterly, frustratingly powerless.

But now, with this "deal", she was putting me in charge. She would do whatever I said, supposedly. And the consequence of breaking the rules had real teeth, for her. That she would agree to leave me alone? What a relief for me, and the worst thing in the world for her. In her mind, anyway.

I had a lot of pent up anger toward her. And although I would not, could not, do anything to really hurt her...I could definitely push the boundaries. She was the only person I had ever met who I had felt that kind of anger toward. Of course, at the same time, I did care for her. I had known her for quite a while, even if most of that time had been totally antagonistic. I knew she had problems, and I knew a lot of her crazy behavior was not her fault. So maybe at the same time, I could actually help her a little. Take some time this next week to straighten out some things in her life.

I did not think she would keep this up for longer than a week, of course. She would realize that the reality of having me be in charge of her life was different from her fantasy, and she would take the opportunity after a week to not reinstate the contract.

On the other hand, she probably would not show up anyway. Last night I had gone kind of overboard. Having her blow me in public? Fucking her in an elevator? Hot as hell, but a little nuts. I was not ashamed, exactly, and I had every intention of fucking her whenever and however I wanted if she did sign the contract. But still, I imagined it had not been what she was expecting. After all, making her reconsider the consequences of signing the contract was what I had been going for. To scare her a little. Make her think.

And right then, she walked in the door.

She did not see me right away, and she looked worried. And a little out of breath. The clock over the bar said she was a solid twelve minutes late. She looked around for me, and I could see her worry start to grow. I figured she was worried that I had already left.

Then she saw me, and the worry disappeared. She smiled, and walked toward me.

I took the opportunity to check her out. Her hair was down tonight, the thick, bright red curls making it a little poofy. I was hardly an expert on hair, but I had somehow picked up that you are not supposed to comb or brush curly hair, and she must not have gotten that memo. She had makeup on tonight as well, and although it was not as bad as the makeup she had worn when we had first met more than a year ago, it was a little more hastily applied than it had been last night.

She was wearing a dress again, just as short as the last one. This one was black, even lower cut, and probably just a little tight in the bust, because her breasts were almost spilling out. It was a style of dress I had heard called "empire waist", where the dress is tight right below the breasts, and then flairs out below that. It makes sense for girls who want to obscure their figure just a little, but Kat had absolutely no need of that. Instead of emphasizing her figure, it hid it. And since I liked her figure, I was not a fan.

She slid into the booth across from me, still smiling.

"Hi Sam."

"Hi Kat."

"Sorry I'm late."

"Well, we haven't signed the contract yet, so I'll let it slide. We'll have to work on that, though." I meant it, too. Being constantly late was one of her more annoying habits. I felt like being late meant that you did not respect the time of the person you were meeting enough to be on time.

She had the decency to look a little ashamed. "So..." she said, trailing off.

"Did you do what I told you to last night?"

"I think so. Here's the-"

I cut her off. "You think so?"

"Uh..."

"Kat, if you want me to be in charge of your life, you have to do what I say, even when I am not there. That's why I gave you instructions for last night. Now tell me what your instructions were."

I knew I was giving her a hard time, and maybe it was uncalled for. But on the other hand, if she wasn't going to take this seriously, I did not want to even start. It would just be a recipe for disaster.

"I... Uh... I was supposed to go home, and write up the contract."

"And?"

"And... Um..." She blushed, and whispered "And shave my pussy."

"Did you?"

She nodded, her blush deepening.

"Good. And what else?"

She furrowed her brow. "What?"

"What else did I tell you to do?"

"I don't... I don't remember..."

"I told you to be in bed in time to get eight hours of sleep."

"Oh..." Her face fell. "I forgot. I made cookies instead."

"Kat, you have to take this seriously, or I'm not going to do it. I won't be in charge only when you feel like it, and you don't get to choose which of my instructions are important and which aren't. It has to be all or nothing."

"I know, I'm sorry." She started to hyperventilate a little. "Are you going to say I broke the contract? That I can't contact you anymore?"

Her eyes were tearing up. I just looked at her for a moment, letting her think I was thinking about it. Letting the pause add emphasis to the seriousness of the situation, since honestly it was not actually all that serious. Going to bed on time? Not a big deal. The only reason I was harping on it was that I really did want her to do everything I said, not pick and choose. Otherwise this whole thing would never work.

"No. Not this time. I'll have to think of a suitable punishment, because I want to make sure you pay attention in the future. But you are still getting used to doing what I say, so I'll be lenient."

She smiled weakly. "Thanks. And I'm sorry. Are you mad at me?"

"No, I'm not mad. Just remember to do everything I say from now on, okay? Even the little things."

She nodded, and wiped one eye. "I promise."

"Good. Now did you bring the contract?"

She nodded again, and reached into her purse. She pulled out a couple of sheets of paper, folded in half and slightly wrinkled, and set them on the table. I slid them over to me, and looked them over.

It looked like she had downloaded a contract template from the internet, because it was laid out like a standard contract, complete with the legalese terms for things. "This contract made as of ____ between ____ (the 'Director') and ____ (the 'Directee') shall be a binding agreement..."

I liked her use of "director" and "directee". Of course, I figured that there probably had never been a contract quite like this one. I skimmed it quickly, noted the spelling errors, and the fact that her printer left a weird streak across the middle of the page. But the basic idea was there.

"For the duration of this contract, the Directee will obey any and all verbal or written directions by the Director, with the following exceptions..."

The list of exceptions was pretty much what she had mentioned last night; nothing permanent, nothing that would hurt someone else, nothing that would get her in trouble with the law. There was a clause that talked about what would happen if she did not obey; she would not contact me at all. That looked pretty watertight. And the contract expired at midnight in a week.

All in all, it looked pretty solid. It could use some spell-checking, but other than that I could not see anywhere that needed improvement. Although... for something so momentous, it seemed like it should be prettied up a little. Maybe on some fancier paper, or something.

I slid a pen out of my pocket. Well, this was it. I was taking on all the problems of her shitstorm of a life, in return for a sex slave.

Eh, that wasn't really fair. I was actually, at least in part, doing this to help her out. She really could benefit from having someone get her life in order. At least for a week.

I swallowed hard, and signed the contract.

I looked up at Kat, and slid the paper back across the table. Her eyes were huge, and her hand shook as she signed. But as soon as she did, it was like a rush of tension flooded out of her body. She sank back into her chair and sighed, a little smile flickering across her face.

"So..." I was not sure what to say next. Last night I had just gone with whatever came to mind at the moment, but now, it felt like I should be more deliberate or something. More responsible. I had thought a little about some standing rules, and other stuff like that I needed to talk to her about, but it seemed kind of uncomfortable to start right in on things like that.

Kat smiled. "Yes?"

"Why'd you wear that dress?" Not exactly on topic, but hey, I was curious.

She looked surprised, and blushed a little. "Oh, just because."

She was clearly deflecting, which was not a good way to get started on our contract. I did not care all that much about why, I was mostly just asking to make conversation, but I could not let that slide.

I narrowed my eyes. "Kat. Is that how you answer my question?" My voice was low, dangerous. Or at least, I tried to make it sound dangerous.

Her eyes got wide again, and she swallowed. "No, sir."

Sir. Hmm... I kind of liked that.

"So, I'll ask you again. Why did you wear that dress."

Her blush deepened, and she spoke quietly, looking down at the table. "Ease of access."

She didn't say sir, but I was distracted by what she did say, so I let it slip. Her answer was definitely not what I was expecting. Ease of access? What did she... Oh. Ooooh. Interesting.

I leaned forward. "Kat. Did you enjoy what we did last night?"

She nodded, still looking down.

"Did you like me fucking you in public?"

She nodded again.

"Did you wear that dress hoping that I'd do it again tonight?"

She nodded quickly, and looked up at me, her eyes wide. She was looking for my reaction.

I leaned back, and thought about it. On one hand, this was exactly what I expected her to try to do. I knew she was a manipulator, and I knew she would use sex to try to get her way. She had obviously planned this, hoping that wearing that dress would make me want to fuck her in public. She had probably even planned her reaction, trying to look shy and embarrassed. It was probably calculated to make me want to do it more.

It was working.

So, definitely her trying to manipulate the situation.

On the other hand... did I care? I enjoyed fucking her. It was the main reason I had agreed to this. And I enjoyed fucking her in public. And even though my main incentive in this contract was that I could tell her to do whatever I wanted sexually, regardless of her preference, I generally enjoyed it more if she was into it. The idea that she had enjoyed me fucking her in the elevator last night enough to try to manipulate me into doing it again...well, it made me want to do it again. My very own exhibitionist slut.

So...the question was, should I do what we both wanted, despite the fact that she was clearly trying to manipulate me into doing it? Or should I not, just to show her that manipulating me would not work?

Eh, fuck it. She would probably be encouraged by her success in this manipulation to try something else in the future, but I was in this to enjoy it. I would deal with her next plan when it came up. In the meantime, I was going to have some fun.

"Okay," I said. "Stand up."

I saw a tiny smile flicker across her face, quickly suppressed. She slid out of the booth and stood.

I pointed to the floor next to my side of the booth. "Here."

She stepped over to where I was pointing. It meant her back was to the rest of the bar, and no one else could really see her front. Now I was glad the frat boys had taken my usual table. This one was much more private.

"Okay, Kat, first things first. From now on, when no one else can hear, you are to address me as 'sir'. When other people can hear, you are to address me as 'Sam'. Do you understand?"

She glanced around quickly, and said "Yes, sir."

I smiled a little. I liked the way that sounded. "Good. Now, lift up the front of your dress."

"Yes, sir." She lifted up the front of the dress with both hands. Not very high, but enough for me to see the front of her panties. They were tiny and black, matching the dress. I smiled. She was right about the ease of access. She could lift up the front of this dress without even doing much to disturb the back.

"Good. You can put it down."

She said "Yes, sir," and let go of the dress.

"Now, go to the bathroom, take off your panties, and come back here."

Another little flicker of a smile as she said "Yes, sir." She turned, and headed for the bathroom.

I leaned back in my seat, finished my drink, and thought about what I would do next.

*****

Kat was walking carefully as she came back from the bathroom. Unlike the tight dress she had worn the night before, this dress seemed to want to flare out as she walked, and it was even shorter. As she walked toward me, she had her arms pinned to her sides, and kept tugging the bottom of the dress down. Not that it really helped, especially since every time she pulled the dress down it showed a little more of her cleavage. She only avoided flashing the room because holding her arms at her sides, as awkward as it looked, did actually keep her dress mostly in place.

As she came close to the booth, I pointed at the floor, where I had had her stand earlier. She did not hesitate, just walked to where I pointed.

"Show me."

She lifted up the front of her dress, showing me her naked pussy. She had shaved it bare like I had instructed last night, leaving only a thin strip of neatly trimmed red hair, a tiny landing strip.

"Good. I'm glad to see you took my instructions seriously." I reached out and ran my fingers lightly over her mound, enjoying the feel of smooth, soft skin. I traced a finger down the little strip of hair toward her slit, and she shivered. Her clit was still hidden by her outer lips, but I traced my finger over the spot anyway. I kept going, lower, my finger sliding easily between her folds. She was already wet. Not sopping, exactly, but definitely wet. I slipped my finger into her, up to the second knuckle, and she moaned out loud. Not loud enough for anyone else in the bar to hear, just me.

She was biting her lowing lip and staring at me, her eyes drooping a little. I grinned at her.

"Kat?"

She murmured something I couldn't understand, but it definitely did not have a "sir" in it. I could not really blame her for the lapse; she looked like she was completely focused on the sensations my finger was causing. But on the other hand, I had only just given her the "sir" rule. It would set a bad precedent to let her slip on it now.

I used my finger in her pussy to pull her toward me, not hard, but firmly. Her eyes flew open wide, and she gasped. Her knees bumped the side of the bench seat, and she dropped the front of her dress.

"Kat?" I said it a little louder and firmer.

She blinked once, then said "Yes? Ah, sir?"

"Did I tell you to put down your dress?" I wiggled my finger, just a little, for emphasis.

She gasped, and pulled her dress back up. "No, sir."

"Good girl." I started moving my finger just slightly, in and out, not going in past my second knuckle and not leaving her completely. She moaned again. "Now Kat, I've got some questions for you. Okay?"