Louis saves Sadie

I’d heard of being smacked stupid before, but thought it was just a fun turn of phrase. It’s not. For several moments I couldn’t do anything. I heard the guys yelling and shouting at each other, but I couldn’t even hold myself up as I leaned limply against trench coat. Only when varsity jacket came up and started pawing at my breasts did I start to shake myself out of my stupor.

“stop it! get off me!” my voice sounded weak even to my own ears.

I wasn’t allowed to say more than that before trench coat’s right hand moved from my arm to under my chin. With an easy move he turned my face to look over my shoulder where he met my lips in another **** kiss. I tried to shake and shimmy my way out of their grips, but all I did was end up grinding my ass against trench coat’s crotch and press my breasts further into varsity jacket’s hands.

The reality of the situation started to really dawn on me at that point. If these three punks were willing to corner me, talk rudely to me, hold me against my will, forcibly kiss and fondle me, and openly slap me, what was their red line? Where would they stop? Were they just looking for a make out session with the pink haired Daisy Duke cam girl? Or did they want more? There’s a massive difference between feeling like I have no option other than to go along with what’s happening, like with Marley and Todd, and not actually not having any option like now.

It was hard to process what he was saying as having a tongue thrust in my mouth and two hands pawing at my big breasts were beyond distracting, but I heard hoody talking to someone. “…its like none of your bizwax man…”

There was a conversation going on there, but I was pulled back to my own present when I felt varsity jacket press his thigh in between my legs. While there was no way in hell that I wanted this to be happening I couldn’t stop my physical reactions and found myself growing hard under the clip’s restrictiveness. It was already achy under the tight panties and short shorts but varsity jacket’s thigh pressing against my mini hardness was like a punch to the gut, weakening my resolve even further.

Before I could do more than groan into trench coat’s mouth, I felt varsity jacket push me backward and heard him say over my shoulder “Hey fucker!”

A brief moment later trench coat stopped kissing me and pushed me roughly to the side. In my dazed, hard, achy state I almost immediately tripped over my heeled tennies and fell to the ground. My mind was stuck as I simply froze. I heard a commotion behind me. Pushing, yelling, hitting, but couldn’t make out what was going on. Part of my mind screamed that I needed to get up and run. Just take the free moment and get out of here before I found out what true **** felt like.

Before I could find out if I even had the ability to run, I had to get up and that wasn’t easy. The pain in my trapped balls was beyond **** and I felt like I couldn’t catch my breath. When I finally managed to use the back of the food truck to help me stand up, I looked over and learned that I could be surprised all over again.

Hoody was laid out on the ground ****. It looked like his nose was broken and there was a little pool of blood and drool expanding under his face on the pavement. Trench coat was kneeling on the ground with his arms clenched around his belly in obvious pain. That left varsity jacket crouched down in a fighting stance with a knife in his hand facing who I assume took out hoody and trench coat.

Louis.

Louis had no fear on his face even as he faced down a guy with a knife and his voice sounded far more confident than I believe I could have mustered, even after taking two thirds of this little gang out. “Drop the knife, take your losses, and get your punk friends out of here before you get hurt.”

Varsity jacket didn’t bother responding verbally and instead lunged at Louis. If he’d been using his fist to hit, then I’m sure Louis’s deflection would have worked perfectly. But as he was leading with a double-edged blade, it sliced across Louis’s forearm drawing a distinct bright red line.

Louis responded with a haymaker that varsity jacket avoided, and they simply continued going after each other. Louis was clearly a better fighter and in better shape than varsity jacket but the knife was more than an equalizer. It gave him an advantage. It felt like they lunged after each other forever but it was probably only a couple minutes before trench coat got up and tried to join in. Thankfully while trench coat and varsity jacket worked on cornering Louis, two police officers came around the corner and everybody stopped.

The police were easily able to screen through the punk kid’s line of bull shit. Even though they could all hear each other’s story, they still added inconsistencies where Louis’ and my stories matched up perfectly. As if having Louis literally save me wasn’t enough to make my heart melt, hearing him tell his side of the story pushed me over the edge. Evidently, Louis recognized that I wasn’t by his side and was taking too long to get some drinks, but was talking to the judges about his car. As they were asking about how he restored the interior though, he heard me call out “You’d better let go of…” and immediately came over to investigate. As he approached hoody tried way lay him, but Louis wasn’t deterred and turned the corner to see me being molested by the other two. The bruise forming under Louis’ left eye was from the first and only punch that hoody got in before Louis laid him out.

The rest of the story was straightforward as Louis kicked trench coat in between his legs taking him out of the fight and then dueled with varsity jacket. The part that made me tear up though wasn’t what Louis did, it’s how he referenced me to the police. I wasn’t Princess or Baby Doll or even Sadie. Louis referred to me as “His girl”.

I stayed snuggled up to Louis’ arm as the adrenaline worked its way through my system and my shakes wouldn’t stop. One of the officers took the three punks away in hand cuffs while the other took our official reports until the paramedics showed up. I was given a quick clean bill of health while Louis needed some cleaning and bandages on his arm and chest and even a couple stitches on his shoulder. By the time Louis politely refused being taken to the hospital for the third time the car show had wound down and the remaining people were packing up to leave.

Throughout the entire ordeal, from Louis and varsity jacket facing off to the ambulance leaving us alone, I felt truly protected and safe. There had been plenty of times as Sadie that I felt **** and defenseless so I naturally reveled in any moment I could feel emboldened or strong in front of my audience. But that was a false sense of strength as my audience couldn’t get to me from behind the camera. But here and now I didn’t just feel ****. I was. I didn’t just feel defenseless. I was. And try as I might, my boldness and strength didn’t save me. Only Louis did. He saved me.

If you’d asked me just yesterday if you could feel small and weak at the same time that you feel safe and protected, I’d laugh and say no. But now I know that’s not true. I don’t know if I’ll be able to shake that feeling of weakness or tininess, but so long as Louis is nearby, I’ll feel armored and shielded.

As the ambulance turns onto the street I turn to Louis and look up into his eyes. My mouth opens to say something…. to thank him, to admit I was scared, to tell him what it felt like they were going to do to me… but close it as words can’t convey my boiling conflicting feelings. Instead, I take Louis’ hands and pull them to my waist while I move up to my tip toes so that I can press our lips together.

Louis immediately takes over. One of his hands moves down to cup my ass, gripping it and squeezing it in lazy motions while his other hand comes up to cup my cheek and hold us together. When I pull back from the kiss to gather my thoughts, feeling my arousal achingly returning in spades, Louis just smoothly turns my face a little bit so our noses don’t collide and pulls me in to kiss more. When I feel his mouth open and his tongue lick at my lips I don’t hesitate to open my mouth and deepen our passionate kiss.

Before when Louis kissed me I was apprehensive or nervous or trying to get out of the situation. And while I’m not sure if this current feeling is from being saved or not, I don’t resist him at all. I submit to his advances willingly and fall under his protective embrace. His groping of me, his kissing me, are the least rewards I can give him and they feel right.

That rightness turns into feeling good. That good feeling turns into arousal which is only fueled further as Louis pulls me close and makes my already hard nipples rub up against his chest. Naturally my penis tries to get hard under the clip’s maddening control, leaving me with **** but accept the resulting achiness. But it reminds me that as much as I feel like the romantic damsel that’s been saved by a prince, I’m not that. I’m a prince hiding out as a princess and am letting another prince kiss and fondle and treat me as a princess.

Even that acknowledged truth doesn’t slow or diminish my willingness to let Louis take over. To kiss me and hold me and protect me. While my heart beats a little harder and a little faster and my mind grows fuzzy, I realize another part of that truth. When I was with girls before I always strove to be their equal. I didn’t kiss them, we kissed each other. I didn’t grope them or feel them up, we groped and felt each other up. I just assumed that because I was a man that I was the dominant one and that I was providing that sense of protection. But right here and right now, I realize that Louis is truly controlling our make out session. I’m letting him do it, but in doing so I’m submitting to his will. And it feels righter than making out with a girl ever has.

By the time that Louis stops kissing me I can’t help but blush and giggle as we’re all alone. The remainder of the participants and booths all closed up and finished their day watching Louis and I kiss and make out in the middle of the lane right in front of his Corvette. Louis joining in my laughter makes me feel better as it shows me that even he was getting carried away by the moment.

After Louis helps me into the passenger seat he gets in and drives us to Bella Cucina Ristorante. Between driving to the restaurant, being seated at the table, and ordering our appetizers and drinks, Louis’ hand never leaves mine. Even when he was shifting, he’d hold onto my fingers, moving my hand to the shift lever with the same motion.

Calming down from the moment, helped by not having Louis kissing me, I realize we’re not in some crazy story where we fall head over heels in love and make everything work happily ever after. Louis puffs up when the waiter comes and tries to order for me. After I tell the waiter to nix the appetizer of focaccia bread and the glass of wine for me and change it to an appetizer of caprese salad and a negroni sbagliato cocktail the waiter looks over to Louis smiling and says conspiratorially “She’s a spicy one!”

During dinner Louis and I move into some strange middle ground between our passions at the end of the car show and our friendly earlier dates. Our hands find ways to clasp one another through the dinner and it feels natural and easy. I don’t mind that it’s clearly Louis holding my hand instead of me holding his. Even when I initiate the touching, he easily takes my dainty hand into his and holds me.

After we finish and share a dessert of tiramisu we get into Louis’ car. I move my arm unconsciously between us and find Louis easily takes up holding my hand again. When I turn to ask where he’d like to go, wondering if I could even say no to a movie or even his apartment right now, my voice is taken away by Louis’ lips kissing mine. This time instead of his hand finding my cheek I let out a quiet but pleased “Mmmmph!” as it finds and cups my breast.

My arousal, which hadn’t really gone away during dinner, rises back up and rears its head. Our tongues dance with each other while our fingers intertwine. And Louis’s thumb lazily, maddeningly, rubs over my nipple making it grow hard and me moan into his mouth appreciably. This time we’re eventually interrupted by a knock on Louis’ window. When we pull away from each other I see that we’ve actually fogged up all the windows. We both blush together as Louis rolls down the window and we see the maître d'. While he’s polite we can both sense his uppitiness as he asks us to please ‘move along and free up the parking space’.

I’m saved from having to ask where Louis wants to go as he drives off and heads immediately to the scenic overlook that has such great views of campus and the city. During the day there’s almost always tourists up here but at night it’s the most official unofficial make out spot for students with cars. Along with two or three other cars we park, turn off the lights, and resume our kissing.

After many minutes of Louis feeling up both my breasts his hand starts to slide down my belly toward my shorts. I’m sure he feels me stiffen up in response as he slows his hand’ movement. I don’t break the kiss, trusting that he’ll allow me this limit. My trust is rewarded as I gently grab his wrist and redirect his hand back to my breasts without any protest from Louis.

We break our kissing several times. But each time we part and try to start up a conversation we end up drawn to each other like magnets and start kissing all over again. Two thoughts float through my head and leave me bothered as I don’t have good answers. I keep thinking of Louis’ hand moving down toward what he would think as my pussy and it makes me consider what he would like in return. Was he hoping that I’d snake my hand down between his legs? Did he want more than my hand down there? I certainly remember what blue balls feels like and don’t have to imagine what he’s going through. The other thought is my own physical discomfort. Where I can see Louis’ bulge growing hard in his jeans, my own hardness is held behind the damnable clip.

I was on the fence of wanting to have an emotional relationship with Louis before today. After he saved me and I felt so good letting him kiss me, I’m clearly okay with that idea now but I hadn’t considered that it wouldn’t be just emotional. It seems so obvious now, but of course it would still be physical.

If I truly want to explore that, if I want to go out with Louis and see what happens with a relationship, how exactly am I going to keep my secret from him?

All good things must come to an end. While my routine normally puts me in bed hours earlier than this, I simply let Louis go for as long as he wants. Eventually he breaks our make out session and says he has to get some sleep. He seems genuinely happy and not at all perturbed that I’ve basically been a tease to him, and I can’t honestly say I’d be as pleasant if our positions were reversed.

After he drops me off at home and drives away, I walk in and see Sarah waiting for me on the couch. I blush, knowing that she’s going to want to know everything and sit down next to her. I beg off a descriptive re-telling of the nights events and she allows me to just give her the bullet points. Photo shoot, car show, molestation, fight, make out, dinner, make out, home.

I’m not sure exactly what gave away enough detail as I didn’t provide much, but Sarah’s response told me that she knew what was going on inside. “Well, it looks like my girl is coming into her own. I guess there’s no reason for a devotional or sex tonight.”

After a quick kiss goodnight to my cheek and handing me my chastity cage Sarah skips off to her bedroom. 10 minutes later I’m locked in my cage, wearing my nighty, and under my own covers, wondering if I’m going to dream about Louis. Wondering if it’s possible to have a wet dream while in a chastity cage that doesn’t allow for erections.