The Rich Girl and The Bad Boy (closed for SeanRenaud)

Lynn couldn't help but give a soft sigh as he kissed her, the light scratches on her back sending pleasant shudders through her body. She kissed him back, moaning softly.

"I'm not sure what would calm me down," she confessed, her lips pressed against his still, whispering. "I'm so scared, and I'm as tightly wound as a lute string." Yeah, she used an archaic analogy. So what? "I'm just so scared that you're going to beat me again. . . I just want to be held and loved and cared for. . . And I'm trying to accept what I will eventually become, but it's hard. . ."

She resumed kissing him, trying to find love and hope and strength in that simple act, the one sexual thing she knew how to do.

Brock nodded into the kiss capturing her lower lip for a moment tugging on it lightly. "Just a little while ago you were telling me about how I could beat you all I want it wouldn't bother you and now you're telling me you're here afraid of a few little welts. I promise you they will heal, I wouldn't do that to you if they wouldn't." He pulled away from the kiss.

"Tight as a lute string? It's a good thing I'm a nerd otherwise I'd be sitting here trying to figure out what it was you were saying." He kissed her again.

Brock sighed. "I'm going to tell you something and you're not going to like it but I want you to wait until I get to the end before you settle back into hating me. Do you think you can do that pet?"

Lynn nodded. It was a simple request, and she absently rested her head on his shoulder, craving contact. She had always been a cuddler, and she wasn't going to stop now. "Proceed," she said.

"You are not the first woman that I have kidnapped, not by a long shot. It's what I do for a living actually. Find girls, capture girls, sell them to the highest bidder. I am not a good guy nor do I have any big intention to be one. You'd be amazed how much money men are willing to pay for attractive women." He kissed her cheek softly.

"You are however the first woman I've ever seen and known instantly that she had to be mine. That I wasn't going to sell her at all. I was going to train her and keep her. You will be held, and treasured and cared for." Brock paused. "I don't expect you'll ever do anything less than hate me for what I've done to you and what I am planning to do to you because no, your life will not always be pleasant. Sometimes I will have to make my point but I know I will love you when you are mine, and you will be mine."

"I'm. . . the first you wanted to keep for yourself?" she asked incredulously. "Why?" It was a simple question.

"You're right. I do hate you. I loathe you. But I cannot help my situation. I won't ever be able to see my friends or family again. I won't be able to be an independent woman, ever again. And all so you can have a little sex doll. And for that, I hate you. In time, depending on how I am treated, I may come to see past that. But right now, I hate you."

"The first I've known I would never give up." He responded. "Why? A lot of reasons and you don't get to hear them just yet but it is the truth. You're not a sex doll." He rolled his eyes. "Well I guess you are, in the same way that your dog, did you ever own a dog? Is nothing but a ball bringer. Let me tell you a little secret that most men either wont' tell you or honestly don't know. We do like our shiny baubles but you're never just a sex doll. You are our master piece. Like I said I expect you'll hate me most of our relationship. It is sweet that you're givin gme hope though."

She nodded and curled into him, nuzzling him.

"Will you be gentle, please?" she asked softly. "You were right earlier, I was contradicting myself when I said that I didn't care if I got beat, but was scared that I was going to. There's a difference."

"If you're going to beat me because you're trying to teach me a lesson, all I ask is that I can take time to heal. What I'm afraid of is that you'll do it just because you want to, and you won't care as much about whether or not I will heal ornot. I've heard awful stories about women being kidnapped, or being abused, and I don't want that." She sighed and curled her fingers around one of his hands.

"If I didn't give you hope, then I wouldn't be giving myself hope," she said quietly. "I'm trying to make the best of the situation, and trying to be strong."

Brock pulled her against him and started running his fingers through her hair. "I will try to be gentle but do not get too used to it. That is one thing I do like with my ladies is the ability to play a little roughly with them." He smiled.

"What you've heard about, it does happen of course but those men are rabid dogs. There is no point in breaking a woman like that. Give you time to heal though." He gently grabbed her chin turning her head towards her own ass and thighs. "Yeah, you can still see a few of the marks I left but only because you're so fair. You're not hurt, you were in pain. There is a bit of a difference. You don't need to worry about getting hurt like that. I won't do anything to you that a good night or two's rest won't clean right up. Well maybe when I decide to pierce these delicious nipples but don't worry, that is something for you to worry about later or better yet don't worry about. Like you already said I'm going to do what I'm going to do and there isn't anything you can do to stop me so you may as well make the best of the situation."

"You're not trying to be strong, you are strong. The fact that you happened to run up against something bigger and badder than you but that doesn't make you less strong." He might have left out the part where her strength and stubborness was a great turn on and when he finally did break her it would be that much sweeter than all the mewling girls he normally broke.

"You want me to be gentle though, fine, but that is a privilege you have to earn and keep and right now the best way for you to earn it is to give me a hand job. It won't hurt anything but your pride."

She listened to him, not sure if she could trust his words, but deciding she had no choice but to do. Her life could depend on it.

Blushing at his. . . request? Order? Suggestion?, she reached out and unzipped his jeans and pulled his cock free from the restraints, gasping as she saw one for the first time.

The blush was now in the roots of her hair, and she hesitantly reached out to touch it, her fingers gentle and unsure. She wrapped them around it and gave a gentle squeeze, feeling how rock solid it was. She continued to touch it with those same gentle and unsure moves, unsure where to start, or what to do.

Brock couldn't help himself from laughing a bit when he saw her entire body turn bright red. He hadn't seen a girl turn that color in forever. "Wow, you weren't kidding when you said you'd never seen a cock before where you? Not even a porn? You and your girlfriends never sat around and watched something you stole from one of your boyfriends?"

"Okay, sorry." He put his hand over hers his other hand on her chin. "Keep your eyes open and look at me girl." He slowly started guiding her grip over his cock. "Get used to how it feels, how hard it is and that's because of you and your body. That is the power of a beautiful woman."

"Never watched porn. My girlfriends did, but I was always watching something else, or reading," she said softly, letting him guide her hand. She quickly figured out, by watching his facial expressions, which grip was too tight, or too loose.

He was rock solid hard, and she was wondering what it would be like when he finally did take her virginity. How much would it hurt? Would he take his time, or shove it in in one long stroke?

She kept looking at him, occasionally seeking glances to see what her hand was doing, trying to memorize every detail.

Brock was surprisingly patient with her actually, just guiding her and watching her for a while. "Well we'll have to get you some porn but that can wait until after we've personally put you through the paces." He slowly removed his hand letting her continue on her own.

At the same time he pulled her up slightly so he could get a hand between her legs lightly stroking her sex. " You don't mind right?" Even if she did he might not stop but this was more for her benefit than his at the moment, if she didn't want to a bit of pleasure on the side that was on her.

"I bet you never even tried any bondage. Even as a little kid playing cowboys and indians.

Lynn shivered as he touched her sex lightly. "No," she whispered when he asked if she minded. Not like she had a choice, did she?

She continued to stroke his hard cock, feeling the intensity behind it.

She couldn't help but chuckle at his question. "Eh, a little. But I was always the cowboy, not the Indian. Whenever we played, it was the Indians who got tied up," she told him, smiling. Her strokes became a little firmer, a bit more confident.

He moaned lightly pumping his hips against her hand as she picked up the pace. "Well we're gonna work on that too, I like the idea of seeing you all tied up and helpless." He slipped a pair of fingers into her slowly pumping. "That's good, now a little faster."

Brock kept his gaze locked on hers still eventually pulling her forward to kiss him. "That's a good pet, make your owner cum."

Lynn shuddered as he penetrated her again, stroking a bit faster at his request. His praise made her feel better, and she felt a little guilty, wanting to hear more of that praise, to let her know that he was pleased with her.

She gave a soft moan as he began to slowly pump into her, but her hand on his cock was much faster than when they had started. She felt her skin flush from. . . well, she wasn't sure what.

The kiss made her relax and more confident, and she kissed him back eagerly, still stroking.

"That's it, that's it, right there baby, right there." He bit down on his lower lip his hips jerking a few times before his cock erupted warm cum. The first spurt came out and landed on her breast, the next one missed entirely with several more smaller spouts oozing down over her hand. "If you weren't blushing like a school girl I'd think you had some experience pleasuring men before." He kept fingering her for a few more moments. "I'm not gonna make you clean me this time, but take a taste, you might as well get used to it."

She groaned and grunted in surprise as he came, not sure what to expect. It was warm, she knew that much.

Delicately lifting her hand from his cock, she took a little lick, then a bigger one. It was so salty, and warm. She licked her hand clean and moaned as he continued to pump her with his fingers. It didn't taste bad, but it was definitely not something she'd want every day.

She smiled at his praise, and kissed him deeply.

Brock seized her by the back of the neck pulling her close to his he forehead was pressed against her. "Don't you know better than to kiss a man right after you swallow cum you na-" He saw the look in her eyes change and he just couldn't do it to her. "I'm kidding you did well." He yanked her off balance into a kiss thrusting his tongue into her mouth and pulling her completely against him letting his hands roam over her body before he pushed her away and pulled out a couple of napkins from their meal and wiped up the rest gently dabbing at her breast.

"And now my pet as much as I appreciate having you naked I think it's time we put some clothes on you. Little known secret not only are women sexy when they are dressed but if you keep her naked all the time there is nothing to rip off or peel off. So come on to the car." He didn't mention that if she was still naked in a few minutes promise or no he was going to shove her up against the nearest wall and it would not be gentle, not at all.

He walked out to the car and pulled out the trash back of her stuff and tossed it to her. "I didn't know what to pick so I just picked teh things I thought you'd look nice in." If she'd had a keepsake he could find that was still in the trunk though out of the way.

She caught the bag and began rifling through it, confused by earlier, but pushing it aside for now.

She finally found a pair of panties, bra, shorts, and T-shirt and put them on, not caring who saw her. She found her infinity scarf and wrapped around her neck, comfortingly. She looked at him.

"Thank you," she said softly, trailing her fingers through the scarf. "What are we going to do now?" she asked.

"For right now you are going to sort through that crap and pick out what you think is worth keeping and what I can leave behind. Once you've finished with that we're going to move on a bit with your training but I have some calls to make.

"Nice legs." He loved that she hadn't even bothered with pants or a skirt, it was almost worse than haveing her nude, enough that he had to leave the room while he made a few phone calls.

It would be a little over an hour before wandered back to where he'd left her. PArt of him hoping he'd have to chase her again, part of him hoping she was waiting obediently when he returned holding an Ipad.

She sorted through her stuff, keeping a few more modest pieces than he probably would've liked. But she kept a majority of the lingerie. The rest went into the garbage bag.

She looked up from folding her clothes all nice and neat when he returned with the iPad. She looked at him warily, wondering what his next plan was. "Now what?" she asked, returning to her task, picking up a few pieces of jewelry that had been left on her clothes, such as earrings.

"Now what? I could bore you with the history lesson if you like. If you haven't figured it out already I do rather like the sound of my own voice. So I could tell you the entire history of human dance and how it relates to human sexuality. Or we could just skip to the part where I want to see how well you dance."

There was the minor added benefit of the fact that he wanted to wear her out a little bit. Tired people tended to be slightly more compliant and he knew she wasn't going to like what he had planned for the evening.

"You do know how to dance right? I know you're a goody good but surely you and your friends went to the club, or your parents signed you up for Jazz or ballet or something as a child?"

She shrugged. "I never went to the clubs," she told him. "Too loud. And I took ballet for years, until a major ankle injury took me away from it. I could've gone to Julliard- my acceptance letter came two weeks beforehand."

She looked at him before going down into a center split. "I did jazz for a year, but I didn't like it as much as classical," she added, groaning as she did the stretch.

"So you have the formal training." He had no fucking clue what Julliard was and just assumed it was some kind of acadamy. He certainly wasn't about to admit his ignorance though.

"But none of the experience. On the long list of things I can promise you I will never ask you to do performing Swan Lake is pretty damn close to the top of that list."

Brock walked to her gripping her hips and spinning her around, one hand on her belly, his fingers perilously close to the bottom hem of the shirt she was wearing and jerked her body up against his. "I may however ask you to dance with me and for me. Do you think that is something you can handle?"

Her breath caught in her throat as she felt him grab her, explaining what he was asking. Dancing. . . It wasn't so bad. She loved to dance, missed it so much.

"Yes, that's definitely something I can handle," she said. She could feel how hard he was, and tell how much he wanted to take her right then and there.

"Is this a time that it's for you, or with you?" she asked.