A blind spot

The landing was brutal.

Branches, dirt, the sharp sting of twigs—my whole body felt like it had been politely rearranged by nature itself.

I found head myself nestled against something soft.

Bouncy, yet firm.

Like a pillow designed by a pervert.

It didn’t take a genius—or even me—long to figure out where I’d landed. I’d seen this exact scenario in anime a thousand times, always followed by a slap so powerful it cut to the title card.

But there was no scream.

No shove.

No fist.

Just silence.

Which was either a good thing… or a really, really bad thing.

Carefully—carefully—I lifted my head from her chest, as if accidentally gracing a nipple might make it explode.

And yeah. I’d been right.

I was sprawled on top of Jennifer, our bodies tangled together, her ridiculously fit frame pinned beneath me. In any other situation this would’ve been a dream come true.

But her eyes were closed.

Not great.

Not great at all.

I held a trembling hand in front of her lips.

Warm breath brushed my fingers.

Alive. Thank God.

“J-Jennifer?” I whispered.

My voice felt too loud for the space we were in. No need to alert any dog-walkers that I was currently lying on top of an **** goth goddess.

I looked around.

Somehow, we’d rolled farther than I ever thought possible—down a slope hidden by the trail’s curve. Tall shrubs and crooked trees wrapped around us, forming a natural cocoon of branches and leaves. No clear sightline from the path. No easy way to spot us.

We were completely out of view.

Just her.

Just me.

And the quiet.

It really did feel like we’d tumbled straight into some kind of magically manufactured blind spot—an impossible little pocket of privacy on a usually crowded jogging path.

…And of course it was magical.

This was exactly the kind of setup the app specialized in. None of this was an accident. The perfect cover, the fall, the timing—this was all part of the event.

Which meant…

Jennifer was supposed to wake up.

Any second now.

But she didn’t.

Her eyes stayed shut.

Her breathing steady, but unchanging.

A cold knot formed in my stomach.

What if something did go wrong?

What if I’d broken her neck or concussed her or—God forbid—actually messed up the script somehow?

I leaned closer, my voice trembling.

“Jennifer. Jennifer!”

Nothing.

Panic crawled up my spine. My hands were sweating. My heart was a stampede. I did the only thing I could think of—the only thing movies had taught me about **** people.

I slapped her.

Lightly.

Her eyelid twitched.

Encouraged, I tried again.

A little harder.

And then one more time, a bit stronger still.

I don’t hit people.

I barely touch people.

Seeing my own handprint bloom red on her cheek made me feel like I’d personally kicked a puppy.

But she finally gasped awake.

Unfortunately, the scene she woke up to was… not ideal.

Me on top of her, red-handed—literally—looking like the world’s least competent criminal.

Her eyes went huge. Horror. Confusion. A massive inhale—

She was about to scream.

And I reacted on pure dumb instinct.

I clapped my hand over her mouth.

She did not appreciate that.

Jennifer thrashed beneath me immediately, her whole body bucking and twisting, legs kicking, fists trying to land whatever blows she could.

“Shh—shh! Wait! Stop!” I hissed, completely failing to calm the furious goth piranha currently trying to **** me.

I don’t think either of us were exactly powerhouses. The last time I did regular workouts was two years ago, back when I still had some naïve hope about “building a better future.” And… as cruel as it might sound, she was a woman, and I was a man. Even without muscles, there was a natural difference in strength.

I pinned her down easier than I expected. Her legs kicked, but they didn’t have enough **** to matter, and I managed to catch one of her hands. The problem was the other one—my free hand was still clamped over her mouth, so she kept swinging at me. The punches connected, but they were light enough to endure. She got in maybe five solid shots before the adrenaline drained out of her. She even tried biting my palm, which was… not pleasant, but she never managed to get a real grip with her teeth.

After a solid minute of thrashing and snarling beneath me, she finally started to lose steam. Her body slackened, and I could tell she wasn’t fighting at full **** anymore. That was my chance. I tried talking to her, even though her eyes were basically firing hate-lasers into my skull.

“Jennifer… please. Please calm down. Remember what happened. We fell. I tried to save you and I— I woke up on top of you. You were completely out, so I had to, you know, slap you awake. Please! I’m not trying to—”

And then it hit me.

In all the chaos, I’d almost forgotten why I was doing any of this.

This whole scenario was supposed to be about domination—exerting control, boosting her obedience, boosting my confidence.

And right now?

This was **** domination.

Ridiculously so.

Almost criminally so.

…Possibly actually criminal.

I had her pinned to the ground, hand clamped over her mouth, looking like I was about to—

No.

Stop.

Chill.

You’re absolutely not crossing that bridge.

Don’t even think about it.

But…

I really had to stop apologizing. And begging.

I needed to be strong—powerful—even forceful.

The app had thrown me into this insane setup with me in control from the very start. No reason to give that up now. I just had to choose my words carefully.

I took a steadying breath and met her blue eyes.

“I’m going to take my hand off your mouth. When I do… you’re not going to scream. Okay?”

She glared at me, examining me like she was dissecting my soul molecule by molecule.

“Nod if you understand,” I said.

She didn’t. Not at first.

My heart pounded hard enough to bruise my ribs.

Rationally, I knew these events always leaned in my favor, engineered for an easy win… but that doubt—what if this one was different?—gnawed at me.

Finally, after a few sweat-soaked seconds, she gave a small nod.

I lifted my hand slowly, ready to slap it back over her mouth if she tried anything.

Her red lipstick smeared across my palm and streaked across her cheek.

But she didn’t scream.

She just stared at me—cold, furious, composed.

There was absolutely nothing submissive about her. Which made no sense. She already had one obedience-heart. Shouldn’t that have done… something? Anything?

“I’m not going to yell,” she said quietly. “But if you don’t get off me right now…”

She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t have to. Her eyes promised every possible horrible outcome.

Normally, I would’ve scrambled off her so fast I’d leave a dust trail.

But that wasn’t the point.

This event wasn’t about obeying her. It was about the opposite.

And, conveniently, I actually did have a legitimate reason to stay put.

“N-No,” I said, swallowing my nerves. “First… you have to tell me—why did you dump your water all over me?”

She rolled her eyes.

“Or what? You’re going to call my boss again?”

I couldn’t help it. Her constant bitchy attitude was really starting to irritate me.

“Seriously. Tell me. Why do you act like this? Throwing the… the eggs, and showering me with your liquids, and-“, God what a horrible choice of words. “Why do you keep switching between cold and hot on me?”

“ME?!” she asked, her voice way too loud. “You’re the one who keeps disappearing and appearing out of my life! Mister fucking elusive, mister oh-I’m-so-goddamn-mysterious! Do you think I do stuff like that with everybody? DO YOU THINK I LET ANYBODY SPANK-“

She was practically screaming now. I had **** but to plug her mouth again with my hand.

I looked around. I don’t think she managed to catch anybody’s attention.

And maybe she wouldn’t. Maybe the event would protect me.

But she wouldn’t stop screaming under my hand.

She was enraged.

She was unruly.

She was… behaving badly.

A bad girl.

She needed to be… corrected.

The air had been a bit chilly, so I had worn my scarf.

Now, as skillfully I could… I took it off my shoulders, laying at around her face.

She was so stunned by my actions, that she stopped her screaming for a second or two.

I quickly wrapped it tightly around her mouth…

And she got surprisingly quiet.

For the first time, I saw a bead of sweat on her face too.

Her breathing had suddenly turned more rapid… and her nipples were popping up from under her jogging top.

Oh yeah.

I guess I made her read maledom/BDSM erotica for two weeks now.

She might actually be getting turned on from this.

…And she wasn’t the only one.