Under Control: A BDSM Love Story

Author's Note: Thank you SO MUCH to everyone who's left reviews! Especially thanks to those who have given constructive criticism. I will definitely think about how I can make the story better over time. Thanks everyone for having patience with me and for taking such an interest in the characters. I'm done developing them for the most part and will now start with the kinky shit! I can't guarantee all of it will be hot but I can guarantee it will at least hold your interest :P Spoiler: Delilah gets more in touch with her sexual side. You'll have to read to find out more!

Your skin, so wet
Black lace on sweat
I hear you calling and it’s needles
And pins
I want to hurt you just to hear you
Screaming my name

-- Alice Cooper, “Poison”



Over the next couple of weeks I felt more awkward and nervous around Hector than ever. Although I did my best not to distance myself, I couldn’t help shrinking away from him every time I was in the same room as him. Even therapy had become a strain on me; I didn’t feel comfortable opening myself up to him. Of course he had no idea why I was being so weird toward him, and I could tell it was making him frustrated. But I just could not get the memory of what I had witnessed out of my mind. I kept trying to convince myself that it was just a dream, but even if it was, I felt creeped out by the fact I even dreamt it at all. I mean, why would I if there wasn’t some latent desire to fuck my boss? Each time I reached that conclusion, I had to suppress a shudder of revulsion at my own perversion.

Even worse was the fact that… I found myself thinking of Hector differently than I had before. Sure, I was freaked out by the whole masturbation thing, but it wasn’t because of him. Somehow I found it… oddly sexy. Maybe it really was a dream. Maybe I had a secret attraction to him from the very beginning and didn’t realize it before. In either case, I found it extremely difficult to concentrate on work, and each time I heard him call my name, I felt a blush on my cheeks and a twinge in my gut.

It was around the middle of the third week after the incident when the dissonance between us came to a head. I was sitting on the patient’s couch in Hector’s office for therapy, looking down at my hands wringing in my lap. Hector was watching me intently as I did so, but I avoided his gaze, my mind feeling dread in the silence. It was so quiet I could hear the clock ticking. It was like a death knell at this point.

“I can tell something is bothering you,” he said, ripping me from my thoughts.

I was startled by his voice, but I did not dare look up. After a bit, I got the nerve to respond. “What do you mean?”

“For one thing, you won’t even look at me,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “That’s a bit of a red flag.”

Slowly, hesitantly, I raised my eyes up to meet his shocking hazel ones. The stern expression on his face made me feel uneasy, and I shifted uncomfortably on the couch. “Why would you think something’s bothering me?”

“You’ve been acting strangely since the day you told me about… your secret,” he said, dodging the word ‘father’. “I want you to know I don’t think any differently of you now than I did before.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Oh… that’s good….” I didn’t know what else to say, so I fell silent once more.

“Delilah,” he said, leaning forward in his seat, and a shiver ran through me at the sound of my name coming from him. “I won’t ask you again. Tell me what’s wrong.”

He looked sincerely concerned about me, and that was all well and good. But there was no way in hell I wanted to tell him what I saw, even if it was just a dream. “There’s… nothing wrong,” I lied, my gaze faltering again.

“I know when you’re lying,” he said, his brow furrowing in anger. “I don’t want you lying to me again. You want to get better, don’t you?”

That statement struck me like a slap to the face. I felt hurt, firstly because it was like he was suggesting I lied often, which I didn’t, and secondly because he was pushing me to tell him something I was extremely uncomfortable sharing with him. Something he promised he would never do.

“Of course I want to get better,” I murmured, wringing my hands even more. “But this is something I really don’t want to talk about.”

He studied me for a moment, his intimidating gaze piercing me like an arrow. I wanted to run and hide, but there was no way to do it. He was too relentless. His intensity permeated everything. “This is not a request,” he said evenly. “The way you’ve been acting lately is negatively affecting your progress in the office.” Then, the words I dreaded most: “As your boss, I demand that you tell me what the problem is.”

It was all over for me. Whether or not I told him the truth, I knew he was going to fire me. I gave up. I decided I might as well go down without a fight; I was never really a fighter, anyhow. I took a deep breath and released it, preparing myself for his reaction.

“Okay… you know the day you had me sleep in your office because I was too tired to work?” When he nodded, I took another breath and continued. “Well… I don’t know what was wrong with me that day… maybe I was hallucinating or something, I don’t know. But I woke up, or thought I woke up… and I saw you… thought I saw you….” I swallowed hard, “…masturbating.”

He looked at me a while, his face stony and unblinking. I felt my heart sink, and I added, “I’m sorry, I should probably gather my things, right? I know you don’t want someone like me working for you….”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said quietly.

I had begun to stand up, but when he said that I sank back down. “You think I’m crazy now, don’t you?”

“Not at all,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “That was no hallucination.”

My heart stopped. “W- what?” I stammered.

“You saw correctly. I was indeed masturbating.”

My skin began to crawl, and my stomach gave a sickening lurch. Was he serious? He can’t be, I thought to myself, my mouth opening in shock. Why would he do that? “Are… you joking?” I murmured, unwilling to believe him.

“No, I am not,” he said, clasping his hands in his lap. “I’m not really the joking type of person. You know that from experience.” He pursed his lips before continuing. “Besides, I would not joke about something like this.”

“But,” I said, my mind a blur, “you did it… with me in the room.”

“That is correct,” he said nonchalantly, as though it was a perfectly normal thing to do.

“Why?” I said, aghast.

He smirked slightly, finally looking away from me. “I honestly can’t tell you why, Delilah,” he said. “I don’t know why, myself. Perhaps it was temporary insanity.” Then he gave me a sidelong glance. “Why were you watching?”

I balked. “Well, I… it’s… that’s not the point. The point is you did it. That in itself is wrong on so many levels.”

“What right do you have to tell me what I can and cannot do in my own office?” he shot back.

I snapped my mouth shut, unable to think of anything to come back with. What do you say to something like that? None of this even made any sense. Finally, I recovered and said, “It’s one thing to do it in your office in private, it’s another to do it in front of another person.”

His eyes took on a glint of humor. “Is it just me, or are you actually indignant right now?”

I stopped for a moment, realizing the truth in that. Usually I would never have the nerve to talk to someone like this, especially if they were in authority over me. It actually felt pretty good. But it wasn’t enough to take my mind off the problem at hand. “Did you know that what you did was sexual harassment?”

“And?” he said, a look of indifference on his face. “If a lawsuit is what you want, I can’t stop you.”

I watched him a while, mulling over all of this in my head. Of course I didn’t want a lawsuit, that was the last thing on my mind. In spite of everything, I was far too grateful for all the good things he had done for me to even consider taking him to court over something so ridiculous. Maybe other women would find it wrong, but I’ve been through worse in my life and have managed to get over it. And perhaps part of me really was attracted to him, though I couldn’t be sure about that.

“I don’t want a lawsuit,” I said at last, relaxing my posture. “Truth be told… I don’t think I really even care.”

“Oh?” he said, his eyes gleaming. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“No,” I admitted, looking away from him.

“Then why?” he persisted. “Was it something I did to you?”

I shook my head, then took a deep breath. “It’s nothing you did. I mean, it was weird to see you do that, and I felt bad for watching,” I said quietly. “But what’s weirder is that… I… think I liked it,” I finished sheepishly.

Hector looked at me for a long time, as though not sure what to make of me. After a while, he said, “Well. That makes two of us.”

I felt totally flushed, and I knew my face was probably beet red at this point. I stared hard at my hands, feeling more than extremely uncomfortable at this point. I heard a rustling as Hector stood from his chair, and then the clank of his shoes as he walked toward me. He stopped directly in front of me, and the starkness of his presence forced me to look up at him. His normally statuesque face seemed different; softer, more open. He gazed down at me, almost fondly.

“I think I may have loved you for a long time,” I whispered before I could stop myself.

He let out a breath of laughter. “But you’re not sure?”

I shook my head.

“Is it because you don’t think you can love anyone?"

I nodded slowly, my throat constricting from tears.

“You don’t have to love me, you know,” he mused.

“I know,” I said, biting my lip. “It’s hard not to want to, though. The way you’ve helped me and all.”

“You’re probably mistaken.”

“Probably,” I admitted. “I usually am.”

He kneeled down so that he was eye level with me, and we were so close to one another I could feel his breath on my face. So close I couldn’t look away, even though I wanted to. The scared little girl inside of me wanted to stop this; didn’t want me to feel like this about him. But I knew it was too late. I had lied to myself long enough. I was done pretending. I knew I needed him, badly.

“I’m going to kiss you, if you don’t mind,” he murmured, holding me with his eyes.

“Okay,” I whispered, my heart racing with anticipation.

It sounds lame, but you know how they say that the first kiss always feels like it’s in slow motion? Well, I don’t know if everyone’s is like that, but this one was. My whole body went almost numb, and my mind was swimming with so many thoughts and feelings. For most of my life it had been the other way around; my mind had been numb, leaving me unable to feel anything. But this moment changed all of that, and I couldn’t help letting a tear slip.

As he pulled away from me, I could see a change in him as well. It was his eyes -- they were always so cold and indifferent but this time they were wistful, almost sad. He gently placed his hands on either side of my face, and the contact gave me goosebumps.

“I want you to know that this is wrong,” he said unwaveringly. “Because I am your boss and your counselor.”

I nodded, unable to say anything.

“But if this is what you want, I will give it to you. I’ll give you everything I can.”

I nodded again, closing my eyes and placing my hand over one of his. “I want it.”

He continued to look at me for a moment before slipping his hand behind my neck and lightly pulling me toward him so that our lips made contact once more, deeply and passionately.



I lay in bed that night, unable to get my mind off of Hector. I couldn’t believe all that had happened, and I wondered if all of it was a dream. Clearly I am out of my mind, I thought as I tossed and turned. That would make more sense than this. No psychologist would willingly be in such an unhealthy relationship.

But deep down I knew it had been reality. I guess part of me was still in denial that I had fallen so hard so quickly with someone I barely even knew. Even I had not been aware of my feelings until I admitted it out loud, due in part to my ability to bottle up my emotions in a secret place over the years. It wasn’t until meeting Hector that I even started crying again, something I had been unable to do for a very, very long time. Perhaps that’s why I felt so strongly about him.

With a sigh, I turned over in bed, mentally going over the events that happened after therapy for the millionth time.



The ride home in Hector’s car was probably the most quiet and awkward yet. Of course in my mind I was ecstatic, but it was difficult to sort things out after the passion of my admission to him had died down. Were we together now? And if so, what did that entail? Kissing? Holding hands? More than that? It had been so long since I was in a relationship, and the others I had been in weren’t serious and never lasted long. I had issues with guys.

And what if we were to have sex? I don’t think I would be ready for that sort of thing. After what happened in the past, I pretty much vowed never to let something like that happen to me again. I mean, I did want physical contact with Hector, but the scared little girl in me was shaking her head and crying. Never again, she was saying. Please, never again.

I was lost in thought until I realized we had arrived at the apartment complex. Hector snapped off the engine, remaining still in his seat. I gave him a sidelong glance, but he seemed to be seriously thinking about something.

After a while, he turned to face me. “In the office, nothing changes between us. I am still your boss, and you are still my secretary.

I nodded. It did make sense, after all, as he really did value professionalism. “Okay,” I said.

“As much as you hate it, you must continue with therapy. Backsliding at this point in your progress would be harmful to you.”

“I don’t hate therapy,” I said. “I wasn’t lying when I said you’ve helped me.”

He gave a curt nod. “Lastly, and most importantly, you must do everything I say, when I say it.”

“I already do,” I said with a smile.

“I don’t think you understand me,” he said, a serious expression on his face.

My smile faded, and I swallowed hard. “Alright… tell me what you mean.”

He turned forward in his seat again so that I could only see his profile. Shadows covered most of his face; an ominous effect. “Remember what I told you, about how I need control?”

“Your vice,” I said. “Yes, I remember.”

I could see his jaw clench, and I could tell he was struggling to convey what he wanted to tell me. “Well, it’s not just a vice,” he said at last. When I looked at him blankly, he turned to me again and said, “It’s a fetish.”

I mulled that over for a moment, and all at once everything made sense to me. The time-out, the spanking, the riding crop, even the way he had tied me up that one time. Not that none of those things had struck me as strange; in fact, they downright frightened me. But it just had never occurred to me that they were all related to some fetish he had.

“It’s called BDSM,” he murmured quietly. “Bondage, domination, sadism, masochism,” he added. “I’ve… had an interest in it all my life but….” here he shifted uncomfortably “…only after I became older did I find out there was a name for it.”

“I’ve heard of that,” I said quietly. “How could--”

“How could someone like me be into that?” he finished for me, and I went silent. He scoffed and said, “I never claimed to be a normal person. And you should keep in mind that the profession does not make the man.” He gave me a significant look.

“So,” I began, and swallowed the lump in my throat, “this… fetish. Where do I come into that?”

“All I want,” he said quietly, “all I need, is for you to do everything I ask you to do. No matter how uncomfortable, or strange, or painful it may seem to you.” When I gave him an uncertain look, he leaned forward toward me, locking my eyes with his. “If you want to make this work, I need all of you.” He reached out and touched my thigh, and electricity seemed to course through me from the area. I looked down at where he made contact and then back up to him. “I need you to be mine, Delilah.”

I considered this for a while. I was not adverse to physical pain; it was something unavoidable in life. It was the idea of someone I cared about causing the pain that really bothered me. I looked into Hector’s eyes, and I saw a pleading in them I had never seen before. It was as though he was silently begging me to accept him for who he was, vices and all. He had done so for me; now it was time for me to do the same.

“Alright,” I whispered, giving him an encouraging nod. “I’m yours. All of me. I will do anything you say, always.” I placed my hand on top of his. “I want you to control me, if it’s what you need.”

Hector let out a heavy breath, relief coming into his eyes. He looked at me for a while, studying me. I didn’t know what he was thinking, but I was sure he at least felt better knowing I didn’t find him strange because of his fetish. A few moments went by before he finally turned to face forward in his seat, clutching the steering wheel in his hands with a new fervor.

“You will go into your apartment, make yourself dinner, and eat it. After that, you will drink a large glass of water -- all of it -- brush your teeth, and take a shower. You will not wear any pajamas or underwear tonight. You will masturbate yourself to climax while thinking of me fucking you from behind.” He said all of this slowly and evenly, and as I listened to him I couldn’t help feeling a bit aroused. Something about the way he knew exactly what he wanted me to do, as though he had been thinking about telling me to do this for a long time…. I bit my lip and nodded. It sounded simple and painless enough.

“Okay,” I said with a smile.

“Once more thing,” he said, looking at me again. “When I tell you to do something, I want you to say, ‘Yes, sir.’ Do you understand?”

“Yes… sir,” I said, giving him a feisty gaze.

He let out a soft growl, and he reached over to me, grabbing me behind the neck and kissing me deeply. “Good girl,” he whispered against my lips before pulling away.



I shifted back into the present, turning over in bed so that I was lying on my back. Of course I had done everything he told me to. He was my boss; not just in the office, but all the time now. Hector -- I mean, Mr. Davis -- had ordered me to masturbate. I felt dirty about it, but at the same time I was feeling horny after everything that happened. I decided to shed my frightened little girl, then and there. Not through my own strength of will, but because he had told me to. Mr. Davis. Just thinking his name sent shivers through me.

I spread my legs beneath my covers. I was naked, as he ordered. I moistened my fingers with my tongue in preparation. It had been a long time since I even thought of touching myself. I wasn’t sure if it would even work. Fantasizing about sex never really turned me on, not after what I’ve been through. I thought for a minute about what did turn me on. Mr. Davis did, I knew that for sure. Seeing him touch himself in his office, hearing him moan my name in the throes of pleasure…. I bit my lip as I started rubbing myself slowly, imagining that I was the one giving him that pleasure. I imagined being bent over his desk, spreading my legs wide for him. And then….

It all went blank from there. Sure, I knew the mechanics of sex. But the idea of it made me feel sick. The only person who had ever done anything to me was… well… my own father. I quickly drew my hand out from under the covers as though I had been touching a hot stove. Tears stung my eyes as I realized there was no way I would be able to do what Mr. Davis had told me to do. The scared little girl would have to remain part of me for a little while longer.

I turned over on my side, angry with myself. The conversation from my first therapy session with Mr. Davis kept running through my head over and over again. Delilah, are you a virgin?

I’ve gone pretty far, I had said. But not, you know, all the way.

I closed my eyes and tears slipped out. It hurt to know that I’d had no choice in the matter of my virginity, so much so that I cried myself to sleep.