Beatrice

I won't deny I have a disproportionate attraction to East Asian women, so that made me a little biased, but Beatrice was beautiful by any standard. I entered a message and sent it:

Hey beautiful, are you free tonight? I'd love to meet you.

A few moments later she replied: I'm not busy.

That's it? Shouldn't she be asking for the address?

I followed up with, Do you want to come over to my place?

She quickly replied, No.

I was confused and a little angry. What was I doing wrong?

Why not? I asked

Not interested, came her reply.

Damn. I could tell them not to worry. I could tell them to reserve themselves for me, but I couldn't make them interested in me.

Why did you match with me, then? I wondered.

Just goofing around, she answered. Bored and wanted some laughs. Checking out the app, planned to delete it later.

Wow, I answered. Kind of sucks for you, right?

Yes.

Well, this wasn't going anywhere at this rate. But still, she should be obeying me, right? Until I realized – she would obey my commands, not my suggestions. I had learned that earlier with Grace.

Well, enough beating around the bush. Come to this address, now. I sent my address and waited. No reply. After five minutes I asked, Are you coming?

Within a minute she replied, Already en route.

I smiled and my hand drifted down to gently rub my hardening cock.

*******

About 20 minutes later, I opened the door to see a lithe, sullen beauty in jean shorts and a loose t-shirt. She had no make-up and her hair was messy. I raised an eyebrow that must have looked judgmental. “What, you told me to come 'now,'” she snapped, making air-quotes with her fingers. “It's 10pm, I was getting ready for bed. You get what you get, OK?”

“Hello Beatrice,” I said, ignoring her rant.

“I prefer Bea,” she said grumpily, still in my doorway.

“Come in, Bea,” I said, moving to the side. Bea came in and stood just inside the doorway. Well, I was learning more with each encounter. I told her to come in, but I didn't tell her how far. Whatever liberty I gave her in my commands, she would take advantage of. I had to try to think more carefully about my words, especially with this one. I shuddered to think of what she might have done if I hadn't sent the commands to not hurt me.

“Make yourself comfortable,” I told her, indicating the couch in the living room. I went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. “You thirsty?” I asked. “Beer? Water? Gatorade?”

“No, not thirsty,” she said from the couch, where she was stretched out, feet up, head back. She had made herself comfortable. I shrugged and grabbed a bottle of water for myself then joined her on the couch. I sat where her feet were, and she lifted her legs to accommodate me. I patted my legs, indicating she should put her feet on my lap. It seems she might be responding even to nonverbal commands. I'd have to explore that later, too.

“What are you thinking right now?” I asked, genuinely curious. I started to rub her feet and bare legs with my free hand. Her legs we perfectly smooth and naturally tanned.

“Trying to find a way out,” she said. “Looking for an opportunity to get away. Wondering if you're about to **** me or something. Wishing I had never used that fucking app.” Her face remained set and stoic, but a tear made its way down her cheek just the same.

“I'm not going to **** you,” I said. I hadn't noticed how tense she was until then, but once I told her that, her body seemed to relax. If she knew what I had planned, she might not feel so at ease.

When I didn't say anything for a minute, she replied, “Commanding me to have sex with you against my will is still ****.” I looked at her face. She was staring at me and had been staring at me since I sat down. She had a predatory look, and I had no doubt that she was still trying to find a loophole that would let her escape, attack me, or worse.

“OK,” I grinned, “I'm not going to do that either.”

She narrowed her eyes but continued staring at me. “Then why am I here?”

“Well, I won't pretend it's for anything pure,” I admitted. She tensed up again. “But that's up to you. I won't **** anything.”

“Can you quit with the games and just out with it?” she complained. Her jaw clenched in anger. Or was it fear?

“It's simple,” I said. “Here are the rules.” Rules I had come up with while I was waiting for her to arrive. “Rule number 1, You can only leave after you cum.” She began taking off her shorts. I looked at her in surprise. “No sense wasting time,” she stated.

“Rule number 2,” I continued, “You can only cum with a cock inside you.”

She scowled at that, but didn't seem all that surprised.

“Rule number 3,” I went on, “Once a cock is inside you, it stays inside you until it cums inside you.”

She closed her eyes. Resignation, defeat, futile resistance.

“And what's to keep me from just staying here and never cumming again?” She asked. “Not everyone is addicted to their orgasms.”

“Rule number 4,” I said, ignoring her question, “Once I say 'begin,' you must start masturbating. Don't stop until you cum. And of course all the usual rules still apply – no hurting me, no involving other men, and all that. I should probably add, don't do anything to draw attention to yourself while you're here – no calling for help or making loud noises. Those are the rules. Any questions?”

She seemed to actually be thinking for a moment, then answered, “No.” With that she slid a hand into her panties and began slowly rubbing herself.

“Good,” I replied. “So... what kind of work do you do?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your job. What do you do?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No, I'm genuinely interested in you. What are your hobbies, what's your family like... lets' talk.”

“You want me to talk to you while I'm...” she glanced down at her crotch in confusion.

“I didn't tell you to start yet,” I explained, at which point she stopped moving, opened her mouth in disbelief, and quickly pulled her hand out of her panties.

“Answer my questions,” I instructed her.

“Fine, asshole,” she said. She opened her mouth to continue, but I raised a hand to stop her. She froze mid-word. Yep, nonverbal commands do work, if they're clear.

“Enough attitude,” I said. “I'm sure it's justified, but I don't like it. For the rest of the evening, talk to me like you would talk to a guy you genuinely like and are interested in, a guy you enjoy spending time with.”

Her demeanor changed. She smiled. Bea had a radiant smile that transformed her whole face along with my mood. Her smile made you feel happy.

Bea went on to talk about her job as a manager for a sporting goods store, her hobbies that were mostly outdoor adventures – climbing, hiking, rafting, and her complicated relationship with her family. Parents living separate lives but still married on paper because divorce would be shameful. Two sisters that had kids and pets and mortgages, just as her parents wanted, making Bea look irresponsible for not settling down yet. A baby brother who was the favorite of both parents, getting all the support he could want as he pursued a medical career he would likely fail at.

She talked about her relationship history – mostly short-lived affairs with meathead guys she met through her hobbies. Once very serious relationship that ended because the guy told Bea he felt like he was “settling” for her smaller body, and she wouldn't put up with that kind of attitude.

We were from different worlds, for sure. We would never have crossed paths aside from the app, and though we wouldn't have found much common ground, I really liked her personality. She was brave and strong and funny and smart and exceedingly beautiful. I started to feel guilty for what I was going to be doing to her.

But just the same, I was longing to see her naked, to touch her body, and to feel myself inside her. The question now was, do I remove the memory of being **** to do all this? Do I make her forget all of it afterwards? Do I still go through with it, or try to win Bea over without the app?