Cheeky Bad Boy

Bad Girl, Worse Boy

I followed Harry, staying about ten steps behind him. Maybe a little breathing room would cool him down, I thought. I was wrong. Once we reached our floor, he held the door to our apartment open for me, then made a beeline for the bedroom, letting out a sigh and running his fingers through his hair before slamming the door behind him. In my purple satin gown I stood against the wall, sinking down to the wood floor, no energy left to give to him. After all that I had done to please him these past few months, it disappointed me that he hadn’t put in the same effort towards me. Every move I made was done to make Harry happy, or to make his life easier. The things he did for me felt more like an afterthought, and it was exhausting chasing after his love and settling for his lust each and every day. 

The kitchen was only a hall away, but it felt like I was crossing a compound just getting to the refrigerator. Desperate for some form of food more filling than caviar and bruschetta, I poured some corn puffs and milk for a late night snack. Here I sat at our kitchen bar, hair sticky from sweat and hairspray, gown wrinkled, eating cereal alone in our half-lit, silent apartment. I kicked off my heels and attempted to unzip my dress unsuccessfully whilst sitting down. I finished eating and put away the rest of the dishes before I made my way to the guest bedroom. Taking refuge there for a night would hopefully give me enough time to handle Harry by morning. 

I stood with my back facing the mirror, struggling to unzip my dress with my second try. Silently, I cursed to myself, knowing that I would need Harry's help to get out of my dress. In a non-sexual way. For a cool minute I debated sleeping in my dress, but it was too damn tight for that. I wiped the tear that fell down my cheek and fixed my hair before knocking on our bedroom door where Harry was hiding out. I knocked once and didn’t wait for him to answer before walking in. 

“What do you want Arielle. I don’t want to see you right now.” T-shirt and boxer-briefs, he sat on the edge of the bench at the end of our bed, looking up from having his head in his hands. 

“Just need my dress unzipped. I’m sleeping in the guest bedroom.” I walked up to him and turned around, my back facing him. Taking his time, he rose up and grabbed my hips, pushing me forward. He slipped his hands around my waist and pulled me back closer onto him. I stood in front of him, with his hot breath right on my ear. 

“Listen to me right now. I’m going to take you out of this dress and then I going to fuck you.” He pulled me tighter, disrupted my breathing pattern, leaving me with short, panicked breaths. “Do you understand me?” he commanded me to answer.

“Yes. Alright,” I answered him. He turned me around, staring straight into my eyes, his dark with power. From not wanting to see me, to fucking me, he changed his mind quickly.

“Will you let me do anything I want to you?” He asked.

“Yes.”  I answered. Half of me was struck with fear, too nervous to deny him, and the other half was lusting back to him. I knew this was a bad idea, but I was more afraid of the look in his eyes if I rejected him, than what would happen to me if I accepted. Once I agreed, he didn’t need reassurance that I was willing. He unzipped my dress and threw me onto the bed. Wasting no time, he unhooked my bra, and took of my panties. I was given a moment to catch my breath and evaluate my choices while he walked away for a moment.

He came back with the “anything I want” part of the deal I made with the devil. I turned around to see him standing above me, sorting through a mid-size chest that I had never seen before. “You don’t get to look.” He stated. I layer my head back down on the bed, careful not to move from the space he left me in. He pulled out some leather handcuffs, and soon enough, I was cuffed to the headboard, hands behind my back. What he pulled out next I was not prepared for. 

“No, I can’t.” I said when he took it out of his secret chest. From the look on his face I could tell that he had wanted to use it for a long time. It was borderline sick, too far for me to feel comfortable with.

“Please.”

“Harry. No.”

“I need this. If you do this for me now I’ll never ask you again.” I was turned off by his thoughts but I knew that it must have taken a lot for him to bring it out of his box.

“I’m scared,” I admitted to him. 

“I love you and wouldn’t ever to anything to hurt you on purpose.” The words ‘on purpose’ stuck in my head. I lowered my head and let him fasten the ball gag around head and place it in my mouth. I was repulsed by the situation, but just enough of me wanted to take part in it for me to continue. 

Just seeing me tied up and helpless was enough to get Harry going. He kissed me everywhere before lowering himself onto me and releasing his anger on and in me sexually. There were times when I was brought to the verge of tears, but on the brink of losing it, he would slow down and take my hand in his, rubbing his thumb along my hand, calming me down. For the most part, he was fast, rough, and almost vicious. I felt more like an object than the person he loved throughout that night. I started to detach myself from my own body while he lost himself in me. I consented and wanted him to do what he was doing to me, but it was hard to admit to myself that this is what I really wanted. The acts felt vile and gross, but at the same time, I was turned on like nothing I had ever experienced before. Harry took me to another place last night, and though I’m sure we were worlds apart in the night we experienced, we were still tied together for it. 

Once he, we, finished, he came and sat next to me in bed, with me still tied and gagged. He took my face in his hand and squeezed me cheeks, pressing my teeth harder on the gag. 

“You’re mine. I love you and don’t want anyone else to have you or be with you. I’m still mad at you and I don’t want to get into right now, but I love you and want you to myself all the time…just think about tonight when you start acting like you did earlier.” He took off the gag and gave me a chance to speak, finally.

“I love you more than anything.”

“I know tonight was a lot for you and I appreciate you letting me…”

“I love you Harry.” I tried to kiss him, but I forgot I was still cuffed to the bed, and he wasn’t close enough to me for me to reach him. He un-cuffed me and I got up to sleep in the guest room, unsure of where we stood after tonight’s events.

“Don’t go” he said. “If you don’t want to sleep with me I’ll sleep in the guest room. You can have our bed.” I picked up his t-shirt from off of the floor and threw it on before getting into bed with him. I laid next to him and he put his arm around me; we fell into our normal routine, though in the moment it all felt foreign. 

“I love you too,” he whispered as kissed my neck. I relaxed, spooning into him, and fell asleep in his arms, part of me lost in what the night had all meant.