Plaything

On a String

Nikole

The sunlight creeping through the blinds hit me like a sledgehammer to the skull. I groaned, feeling every inch of my body scream in protest. I shifted, and the soreness in my muscles was a reminder of the wild night I’d had with Jay… what the hell did I get myself into?

I rolled out of bed with a wince, my body aching in places I didn't even know could hurt. After everything was said and done, Jay had cleaned up, all cool and composed as if nothing had happened, and drove me home without a word. He didn’t ask if I was okay, didn’t ask if I wanted to talk. He just… left me to stew in my own thoughts.

I stepped into the shower, the hot water soothing my sore muscles, but it couldn’t rinse away the confusion that had settled deep in my chest. Once I was clean, I grabbed a glass of wine and I took a long sip, hoping it would calm my nerves. Sunrise Blush was what it was called, and it was just right for it to be boxed wine.

He had called me his “plaything” last night. His words lingered in my mind like a shadow, not entirely unwelcome but definitely something I wasn’t used to. What the hell did that mean? Was this some kind of f****d-up game to him, or was there more to it? He wasn’t exactly forthcoming with explanations, but the way he’d claimed me, marked me… I don’t know. Something about it made me feel… alive.

Before I could dive deeper into the mental madness, my phone buzzed on the counter and Yasmine’s name lit up the screen. I didn’t hesitate to answer.

“Hey, girl,” I answered, trying to sound normal even though I was anything but.

“Oh my God,” she groaned on the other end. “Why did I pick up yesterday and today?”

I laughed lightly, the sound feeling foreign in my mouth. “Because you like having money. Must be a bad day?”

She snorted and I could hear the frustration in her voice. “You don’t even know the half of it. I had a 90-year-old trying to throw her flat irons at me. I swear if she didn’t have dementia—”

“You wouldn’t have done anything. You love what you do.” I cut her off before she could finish, unable to stop the grin spreading across my face.

“That’s not the point,” Yasmine shot back. “I don’t want no damn flat irons thrown at me. We had to call security and get a sedative to put her ass to sleep.”

I couldn’t help it. I laughed out loud. Yasmine always had a crazy day and I loved it when she told me all about them. She’ll talk her s**t, but she’s not the charge nurse for nothing. She let out a dramatic sigh. “I need a vacation. But honestly, I love my job. It’s just days like today, I wanna punch someone in the face.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’ll be alright,” I teased.

“But what about you? Did you get to the interview?” She asked curiously.

“Nah, I had to reschedule it. Jay’s going to fix my car.”

“Good. Now, I don’t have to hear your ass complain about not having a ride,” she joked. “Wait a minute...How did you get him to fix your car? You f****d him, didn’t you?” I told Yas about Jay, but I didn't tell her that we had s*x. My best friend just knew me so well.

“And did!” There was no point of lying. As I said before, I have no shame about how sexually free I am. “b***h it was good. I've never had no d**k like that.” Jabari Moore was going to be a problem. I knew that when I saw the shift in his eyes and how he was fighting to keep himself under control. He was dangerous and he hid it well.

“Dammit my break is over, but this conversation isn’t. We’re going out tonight after I get off.”

“Okay, you know I’m down for a good time.”

Yasmine’s voice dragged, “Alright, I gotta go, girl. Talk to you later.”

“See you, boo.” I hung up the phone and the silence in the room suddenly felt heavier. The glass of wine was still in my hand, but now it felt like it wasn’t enough. I needed something stronger. I sat down on the couch, running a hand through my hair, thinking about last night. The way Jay had taken control, the way he claimed me. Part of me hated it, because I wasn’t in control. But another part of me couldn’t get enough of it. Maybe I wasn’t ready to admit it yet, but I liked that he took charge. He made me feel something I couldn’t quite name. But I had no clue what the hell I was supposed to do with that.

~

As promised, when Yas got off, we went to the club and I could feel the bass of the hip-hop music pulsing through my body as we pushed through the packed dance floor. The lights darkened and flashed occasionally as I tossed my head back, enjoying the songs they were playing. Yasmine laughed beside me as she moved with her usual carefree abandon. We were in our element—two best friends just living their best life and, on top of that, we both looked good as hell. I was dressed in a tan, skin-tight body con dress that stopped right below my round ass. I made it a point to exercise and stay in shape. It was one of the things I admired about myself. Yasmine also wore a dress, blue and black, different style, but she still looked good. Her hair was pushed back off her face where I had mine in a half up, half down style.

It wasn’t long before a group of fine ass men made their way toward us. They had that playful challenge of who’s gonna pull who. One of them leaned in, his voice barely rising above the thundering music. He had an average height, around 5'8 with a low haircut, dark eyes, I'm assuming brown, and light brown skin. I knew that type of man. Honestly, they were the type of guys I should steer clear of, but tonight I was out with my best friend, and it wouldn't hurt entertaining them for some free drinks. His friend, who had his eyes set on Yasmine, was also handsome. He had shoulder-length locks that were neatly styled and was a little taller than the guy who was coming at me. Yeah, they had an agenda.

“Damn, you ladies are looking good tonight. What’s your name?” he shouted, a smile breaking across his face.

“Nik,” I replied, matching his grin. I could see Yasmine beside me, already immersed in her own conversation. “What’s yours?”

“Tyrell,” he answered "But just call me Rell. For a while we had a great time with Rell and his friend, Jason. They were cool, bought us drinks, and we danced with them. Rell's hands were all over me as I swayed my hips to the rhythm of the music. The night seemed like it was going great until I turned around and noticed him. The subtle awareness that made my smile falter for a split second. It was then that I caught sight of Jay, standing in the back of the club in a VIP booth. He was with a couple of guys and surrounded by women, but his eyes locked onto me like I was the only thing in the room. He was nursing a whiskey while he stared at me. He looked mad when he had no right to be. It’s one thing to make a deal with my body, but it’s another to see me give anyone else even an ounce of my attention. His words replayed in my mind. You are mine.

He finished his drink and sat it down. He stood and began to head towards me. He didn’t rush, he took his time like Michael Myers did right before his next kill. s**t, maybe I should’ve ran, but this was a little exciting to me. I tried to pretend that I was listening to Rell, but I felt Jay’s presence getting closer to me. I was in mid-laugh when I felt a strong hand clamp around my arm. I turned, startled, to find Jay glaring down at me. The look on his face was dark and possessive. We never went over the terms and conditions of this agreement, at least not completely. Besides, we agreed this was only business.

“Jay—” I started, but he cut me off, his grip tightening as he snatched me away from the group.

“Damn Bro, what’s your problem?” Rell confronted him. No, I did not need this right now.

Jay turned to look at him and Rell stepped up to him. Suddenly, Jay punched Rell in the face. My hand flew to my mouth. What the hell was wrong with him? Yasmine gathered our purses and followed us. Jason immediately ran towards his friend. Jay walked away, pulling me out of the club and we got into his truck. Yasmine gave him her address and he dropped her off. He didn’t say anything to me the entire ride. So I decided to talk first.

“What the hell was that? You didn’t have to punch him.”

He didn't say a word, still and it was becoming frustrating. But despite my irritation, there was heat warming below my belly. I glanced at him, but his eyes were fixed on the road. His knuckles tightened as he gripped the steering wheel. When we finally pulled up to his house, he got out and came around to yank my door open before pulling me out. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I hissed. “I was just talking—”

He dragged me inside, slamming the door behind us. It’s dark, the only light coming from the moon peeking through his windows. He hauled me down the hallway like I’m a puppet on a string. No matter how much I protested, he just ignored me. We reached a door, I assumed his bedroom and he shoved me inside and slammed the door shut. He turned to face me, his eyes burning with a possessive fury.

“You think you can flirt with other men in front of me?” he stalked towards me.

I took a step back, my heart was racing in excitement. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong. You don’t own me, Jay.”

“That’s not what we agreed on,” he reminded me. “You are mine, remember? I said whenever I want you and you agreed.”

I did. “Yes, but you also said this was business, so why are you taking this so personal?”

He closed in on me in an instant, pinning me against the wall not in a way to hurt me, but enough to make my breath hitch. My heart raced from the excitement and I wanted to continue to be defiant. “You offered me your body, remember? No one else gets to touch you, Nikole. His hands were all over you and you were just grinding against him.”

My defiance falters, replaced by a rush of heat and anticipation. My p***y was getting wet and I tried and failed to hide how it affected me. “Jay…”

“You like this, don’t you?” he stared at me as his hand slid down my throat, tracing the line of my collarbone. “You like that I’m claiming you and reminding you who you belong to.”

I swallowed hard, my body reacting to him like a drug addict. I purposely arched into his touch. “Yes,” I whispered, barely able to admit it.

Jay pulled me towards his bed, shoving my face-down onto the dark covered matress. I loved how rough he was with me. It was the type of roughness that couldn’t hurt me, but the type of roughness that seemed possessive, toxic even. He took my wrists, binding them together with his leather belt in a swift, practiced motion. “Then you’re going to take your punishment well then. Ain’t that right, mama?”

I nodded my head. I’m shaking but it's not from fear. My cheek was pressed against the cool, satin sheets. I felt the air hitting my ass as he pushed my dress up.

“You don’t get to c*m tonight,” he ordered harshly in my ear. “Not until you learn your lesson.”

He dragged the flat side of a leather paddle across my ass, letting me feel the anticipation before the first strike landed. It’s sharp, stinging, and I gasped, my fingers curling into the sheets.

“Count,” he demanded.

“One,” I choked out. I loved everything about this.

He spanked me again, harder this time. “Two.” A moan escaped my lips and Jay smirked, trailing a finger down my spine. “Look at you, dripping all over yourself from a few spanks on that beautiful ass. You’re my sexy ass plaything. Right?”

“Yes,” I admitted.

“Good.” He inserted two fingers inside me and moved in a motion that made me want to explode with pleasure, but just as quickly pulled them out. He was playing a twisted game with my body, making it oblige however he saw fit. He was making his point. That my body belonged to him. I lifted my hips, silently craving more of him.

“Who do you belong to?” he commanded.

“You,” I gasped. “I belong to you!”

His warm breath was against my ear. “Damn right you do and you better start acting like it. Its only been one day and you acting up already.” He got up and walked around towards me. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my temple, a contrast to the roughness of his punishment.

“Remember this feeling, sweetheart. The next time you even think about flirting with someone else, you’ll know exactly who owns you.”

He leaves me tied up, desperate, and on the edge of release. I yelled out, sexually frustrated. My body was trembling with an unfulfilled need.

“Jay, please,” I begged desperately. “Can I c*m? Please don’t leave me like this.”

He cupped my face, forcing me to look at him. “You don’t c*m until I say so. You want relief? You gotta earn it. Now stay here and use this as a reminder the next time you want to entertain other men.”

And with that, this mothafucka had the audacity to leave the room, the door closing softly behind him. I was tied up and breathless and my mind spinning from the sweet, torturous lesson he had just delivered.