In Which Ian Indulges In Self-Control

“Again?” I said. “Now?”

It was more surprise than objection. I felt as wide awake as Ian did… and while my experiences so far that night hadn’t done anything to put me in the mood, they hadn’t done anything to kill the idea of sex for me in general.

“I told you I’ve missed you,” Ian said, his hand going to my thigh. “Anyway, what else am I supposed to do with you?” A small flush of anticipatory heat dribbled down my spine. His voice dropped into a low, husky growl. “Last time I checked, cunts were for fucking.”

There it was.

That was… well, it wasn’t exactly that I needed to hear it, and in general I wouldn’t even say that I liked hearing it. The word itself bothered me in conversation. It offended the sensibilities of both the person my mother had raised me to be and the one my grandmother had brought up.

But alone and from Ian? It somehow shot right through to some secret core of me and triggered a rune that said “Yes, YES, YES.

I couldn’t tell you why it worked the way it did, though sometimes I suspected it had something to do with my grandmother’s upbringing. She had tried to instill in me her own views on women and sexuality and women’s sexuality, and in some regards she’d succeeded… but nothing could change the fact that I was a sexual being. She’d only altered the way that was expressed.


Or maybe I would have always found a guy who’s a little rough to be a little hot… and a guy who’s really rough to be really hot. Maybe I would always have liked my slap and tickle to be a little light on the tickle.

I didn’t know if Ian still grappled with the rightness and wrongness of his own predilections. If he did, he’d reached a point where he didn’t need to hash things out with me nearly as often. I didn’t mind that one bit. It was one thing to believe in clear, unambiguous assent but the goal there was to create a space where it was safe to be spontaneous, not to stifle it.

I hadn’t said anything, but I didn’t have to… Ian could see my response written across my face as if it were written there in glowing red letters. He flipped the blanket off of us. Underneath it, his body was lean, lightly muscled, and sweaty… it wasn’t strictly cold enough to require a blanket this early in the fall, but I liked to have one anyway.

The sweat made his smell stronger. I don’t mean the smell of the sweat, I mean the scents that it carried: sex, man, and… because he was human and I had demon blood… meat.

I wasn’t turned on by the sweat, exactly. I wasn’t turned off by it, either. A dry, clean body might be naked or merely nude, sexual or simply aesthetically pleasing. Art doesn’t sweat, so a sweaty body almost had to be naked by definition.

“You know what to do,” he said, putting a hand on top of my head and giving a gentle push.

I nodded and slipped downward, sliding my naked body over one of Ian’s legs as I took a position between them. Amaranth’s trick of smuggling a full-sized bed into the dorm room was going to pay off on a regular basis, it seemed.

Ian was getting harder, though he hadn’t touched himself. I knew why, of course. That was my job. My purpose. It was my function to fulfill his needs, to surrender myself to his pleasure. He gave me no more encouragement than a smirk. I started to reach out…

“No hands,” he said. “Get down and do it like the dog you are.”

He didn’t have to give me any more directions than that. I knew his body and I knew what he wanted from me.

I lowered myself even farther and crawled in close, extending my tongue. I didn’t go for his dick yet, because I hadn’t been given permission to. I couldn’t really help brushing against it as I touched the tip of my tongue to his the bottom of his ball sack. It nuzzled against the top of my head in a way that felt… well, as if he’d reach down and patted my head with his hand.

My physical relationship with Ian had started with a blowjob. Our initial toe-dipping excursion into the world of dominance and submission had been the idea that he could have one any time that he wanted. Not much had actually come of that. As a young man of limited sexual experience, he’d been enthralled with the idea of blowjobs… and he’d enjoyed the reality, but not so much that a head-giving automaton would make the best Khersentide present ever or anything.

What he really liked more than the raw physical act was the dynamics that were possible around it. He liked to be active, to fuck my mouth and throat rather than simply being sucked off. He liked me to get down in front of him, to lower myself physically and metaphorically, to give myself over to the worship of him.

I bathed his balls with my tongue, lavishing affection on them in the basest way I could, savoring the sweaty, meaty tang of his skin. This he liked. Once upon a time this would have seemed strange to me, but now it just felt right. It wasn’t mere familiarity that had wrought this transformation… rather, it was I that had shifted into a state where the only thing more right than what Ian wanted was that I did it.

And I liked it, too. I loved the taste of him, the feel of his skin under my tongue. I would have licked his body all over if he’d wanted, put my mouth on every part of him… but I especially loved to do it to the lowest and dirtiest parts of him.

Once I had done it because I thought it debased me.

Now I did it to exalt him.

And that’s what I did, licking and kissing and gently sucking until he judged that I’d adequately demonstrated my love and submission. I didn’t know how he would let me know. It might be a word, or an action. I trusted that he would make it clear, though, because he always had.

His big, thick dick had long since moved on to full-on stiffness, and every once in a while I chanced to flick my tongue at the base of the shaft or nuzzle it with my nose.

Like a dog. Just like he’d said.

“That’s a good bitch,” he said. He put his hand on the side of my head, took hold of my hair and wrapped his fingers around it. He tugged upward, and I lifted my face towards his. “I’ve been meaning to tell you that I like your hair like this. You should think about growing it out more.”

If it had been Amaranth, I would have answered with a “Yes, ma’am,” but it was Ian and he hadn’t told me to say anything, so I just nodded slightly.

He yanked my hair sharply to the side. I let out what I hoped was a sexy and feminine grunt. There were definitely downsides to dorm life… without a wall of silence on all sides, screaming out loud at an odd hour of the morning didn’t seem like a good idea.

He put his other hand on the other side of my head and grabbed me by the hair there. I expected him to pull my head down onto his shaft, but instead he just pulled my hair in both directions and then let go.

“Kiss it,” he said. “Show me how much you love my dick and maybe I’ll put it inside you.”

So I did. I pursed my lips together and tenderly kissed the head of his dick. You know what? I did love it. So hot, so thick, so solid… when it got hard, Ian’s dick was like everything I loved about him physically in concentrated form.

Still not using my hands, I kissed the top of his head, and then all around the sides of it. I worked my way around the ridge, then down the top of the shaft and back up. I went all over the thing, using my tongue a little but mostly my lips… he’d specifically told me to kiss, after all.

It was both frustrating and fulfilling. I wanted to taste his cock, I wanted to feel it in my mouth and know he was feeling my mouth around it… but I didn’t have permission. The thrill of knowing that I was doing what he wanted wasn’t enough, especially because I knew he wanted more, too. He was putting me through this as an exercise in self-control, his and mine both. He was denying himself further pleasure because he was could, and forcing me to restrain myself for the same reason.

Here was the unspoken secret of our relationship: I sucked Ian’s dick whenever he wanted me to, because if I did it whenever I wanted to, I would be doing it all the time. That was how much I loved it, after a year of dating. It didn’t consume my waking thoughts or anything, but once I got my mouth near it… well, maybe this was a side-effect or sublimation of my demon hunger mixed with a general growing fondness for penis. Who knows?

It wasn’t just dick I liked. Steff had a dick, and more experience wielding it than Ian had. As much as I liked girls, as much as I seemed to be more attracted to women in general… there was just something about a man that I could give myself to. I belonged to Amaranth, but I gave myself to Ian. The difference was hard to explain, but not exactly subtle to experience.

He cuffed me hard on the side of the head… without thinking about it, I’d taken the head of his dick between my lips and started sucking. I stopped and withdrew.

Self-control had never been my strong point. With Ian, it was almost a kink. For me, it was more of an aspiration.

Bad slut,” he said. “You know better. Off the bed.”

I complied, thinking he was going to punish me in some fashion for overstepping. He stayed where he was, though, and just reached down and took matters into his own hands, so to speak.

“I’d say this hurts me more than it hurts you, but honestly it’s not that bad,” he said, running his eyes over my naked body. “And I know you’d rather be taking care of me yourself. Think about that… think about this the next time I let you put your mouth on me.”

As punishments went… okay, if anybody had asked me to devise one, I wouldn’t have thought of it, and if anybody had described it to me I might have laughed at the idea that a guy jacking himself off instead of having sex with his girlfriend would teach her a lesson.

But it was effective all the same. Ian was right, I really did want to be the one to please him, with my hand or my mouth or by offering my body for him to take.

I stood there unmoving while he looked at me like I was an image in a crystal ball for him to get off on, and that was hot… unspeakably hot. I liked being used as an object, and now I was being objectified both literally and metaphorically. It was like being transformed into porn. But however hot it was, I wasn’t going to get off on it, and… more important to my actual personal needs of the moment… I wasn’t even going to get him off.

He was working his fingers up and down his shaft at an easy pace, still practicing his self-control. He occasionally flicked a finger across the ridge or gave a small tug or twist, but mostly it was a simple sliding motion with a light grip. He knew what he was doing, and he wasn’t getting carried away with it.

The weird thing about a dick… well, among the weird things about dicks… is the fact that you could never say they’re fully hard. One can seem like it’s fully deployed and then it flexes and it’s just bit harder, a bit bigger. Sometimes it could look painful, how swollen they could get. Ian’s dick was like that, and maybe it was my imagination but it seemed like it was still growing.

The sight of it provoked a reaction deep inside me, which, not coincidentally, was right where I wanted him to be. I wanted to be serving him, but I also wanted him to be fucking me. I wanted it in a way that had nothing to do with him in particular being my boyfriend or me being his girlfriend, nothing to do with dominance or submission.

It was primal, it was alchemical.

I was horny, and I wanted sex… just flat-out and simple sex. This was actually kind of new territory for me and I didn’t really know what to do with it. It actually scared me a little how much I wanted it.

“I’m thinking about finishing on your face,” he said. It’s hard to describe the brief flicker of hope that this instilled in me. It wasn’t like I had a deep-seated yearning for semen to spurt onto my face… except for right then, when the prospect was raised in the heat of the moment. Then he smirked, and I knew he was playing with me. That brought its own kind of enjoyment, even if it wasn’t as fulfilling. “But I think I’ll just keep thinking about that.”

Once he decided to finish, that was really just about it. He took a tissue off the nightstand and brought things to an impressively quiet close as simply and efficiently as if he were blowing his nose. Not that I’d ever thought of blowing one’s nose as a particularly efficient act, but compared to a mind-blowing extended orgasm, I supposed that it was.

From the way that Ian was grinning, I knew that he was more pleased with himself than he was pleasured, and that I supposed was part of the point of the exercise. An orgasm was an orgasm, and that wasn’t a bad thing, but the boost Ian got from control… self and otherwise… lasted far longer.

He disposed of the tissue and then patted the bed beside him. I joined him.

“I love you,” he said, kissing me gently on the lips.

“I love you, too,” I said. “That was… a little different.”

“Different good or different bad?”

“Different-different,” I said. “I mean, it’s not something I would want to happen every time, but…”

I tried to figure out how to tell him what I felt like, which was basically that I hadn’t exactly liked it, but not in a way that I would like him not to do it.

“You didn’t enjoy it, but you it’s the sort of thing you enjoy not enjoying?” Ian said.

“Sort of,” I said. “Not really, but that’s a good enough working explanation. I don’t want it off the table. I mean, I don’t want you to do this to me because you think I’m going to enjoy it, but…” I blushed. “I’ll enjoy it being a part of your, uh, masterly repertoire.”

“You mean you’ll get enough enjoyment from having it hanging over your head to make it worthwhile when and if it actually happens again,” Ian said.

“Yes!” I said, maybe a bit too enthusiastically, but he’d said it perfectly. “You’re exactly right.”

“Of course I am,” he said.

“Okay, Amaranth,” I said putting an arm over him and pressing up against his side.

“Do you want to sleep on the floor?”

“No, ma’am,” I said, grinning wickedly, and he hit me with a pillow.

Tales of MU is presented this month by Amy Amethyst.

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16 Responses to “55: Personal Growth”

  1. N. says:

    Absolutely loved the ending.

    Current score: 3
  2. readaholic says:

    Awww. I agree. The ending is really cute. Om nom nom.

    Current score: 0
  3. Ducky says:

    They are still dorks. I love it.

    Current score: 0
  4. generilisk says:

    Absolutely adorable ending.

    Current score: 0
  5. Month says:

    AWWW how cute.
    Hit her again.

    Current score: 0
  6. DaManRando says:

    Haven’t had a chapter like this in a good long while… seems that you usually gloss over the reeeeally sexy bits. This was a good chapter.

    Current score: 1
  7. Zergonapal says:

    I like how Ian can switch from domineering to loving partner in such a short space of time.

    Current score: 1
  8. Krey says:

    AMAZING! I’d been wanting a chapter like this for awhile now and was really afraid you were going to skip over the sexyness hinted at the end of last chapter. Overall great scene, though if I was Mack I’d have been all over him at the end.

    Current score: 1
  9. P.K. says:

    “…denying himself pleasure because he was could…” should drop the “was” or replace “could” with “in control” or “able.” I can’t believe I was the first to comment on a glitch!

    This was a fun, sexy instalment.

    Current score: 1
  10. Corven says:

    Shouldn’t this be chapter 55?

    Current score: 0
  11. Zathras IX says:

    Mackenzie’s always
    Ready to be roughed up by
    “Rough and ready” types

    Current score: 0
  12. zeel says:

    Hmm. . .

    Up at the top where it says: “Presented By ______________” it makes it look like that is the author. I know they aren’t, but new readers might be confused. Some adjustment might need made with that.

    Current score: 0
  13. Tierhon says:

    Brought to you in part by “kind sponsor”

    Current score: 0
  14. Daezed says:

    Fan-fucking-tastic chapter. Ian is slowly reminding me more and more of my own manthing. I love it, especially when he is away on business. Gives me just a little taste of the man I love.

    Not your intention, but a surprising and very appreciated un-looked-for side effect of the developing character. Great chapter!

    Current score: 0