Danny and I had been dating pretty seriously for several months when something happened that reminded me of my seedy history. It was an accident, really. We were having sex in the missionary position and he put his hands on my shoulders pinning me to the bed. I’m sure this had happened to me before with him, but for some reason, this time it brought a flood of memories with it and I climaxed fast and hard beneath him.

When I was younger I fell into a fairly dark crowd. Lots of drugs were involved, and that’s how I met Jason. Jason is the man who changed my life, and I’m still not sure if it was for the better or for the worse. I was still in my teens and he was much, much older than me. Almost ten years. But he was still young and hot, and just the type of guy I was drawn to.

He was tall, almost six foot four, and had a good build, but not too muscular. His long dark hair hung down in his eyes, and he wore just a little bit of eyeliner all the time. The first time I met him, I swooned. I have a particular fetish for men who wear black nail polish, and when I saw the chipping black paint on his nails, all I wanted was to feel his hands inside me.

I met him at a street festival; he was the friend of a friend I was with, and as soon as he saw me I felt him eating my body with his eyes. He was strange, though. He never broke eye contact when he spoke to you, and if you looked away he would find your eyes again. I thought he was one of those guys you meet who is just too cool for you, for any girl, for sex in general. He looked at me hard for a long time before he spoke, my friend chattering along the whole time, barely noticing his lack of interest in her.

“What’s your friend’s name?” he asked her while he started through me.

“Dezzie,” she answered. He looked down at me and smiled, and I noticed how sharp his canine teeth were.

“Dezzie is very pretty,” he said. “she should come to my apartment and have a drink.”

My friend assumed the invitation was for the both of us, after all, she knew him, not me.

“Sure, we’d love to go back to your apartment and have a drink!” she squealled. She was really annoying sometimes.

“I didn’t invite you, I invited Dezzie. Would Dezzie like to go?”

It was weird, how he never directly addressed me in that conversation, now that I look back on it, but I guess I didn’t really notice at the time. I kind of got lost in what was happening.. I don’t think I really said yes, but I ended up being led by the hand back to Jason’s new black Forerunner. He was very persuasive, I suppose, or maybe just…cool. Mysterious.

He didn’t speak to me for the whole car ride. We pulled up in front of an apartment complex and as he parked, he looked over at me. Suddenly I was very aware of how revealing my top was and how short my skirt was and I must have started to blush. He leaned over the seat and bent in to kiss me. I could already feel myself starting to get wet, and I got the image again of those fingers slipping in and out of my body. He didn’t kiss me, though. He put his mouth to mine and bit my bottom lip. Hard. He slowly licked the blood off my lip and groaned slightly. I was surprised, but desperate as well, and wanting to look ultra cool, ultra open minded. I wasn’t a virgin or anything, but most of my sexual experiences up to that point had been with guys my age. Fumbling, fast, and foolish. Guys who didn’t know a clit from a slit, and didn’t care to explore.

When Jason pulled away from me, he smiled.

“You like that?” he asked. I nodded, trying to nod sexily.

“Let’s go inside” he said. We climbed a flight of stairs and got to number 115. He took out his keys and swung the door open. He had his hand on my back, guiding me, but pushing pretty hard. His apartment was dark, both because there wasn’t much light there and because the furniture was very dark and heavy. He guided me into his bedroom and sat me down on the bed.

“Do you want a drink, Dezzie?” I shook my head, no.

“You’re pretty fucked up already, aren’t you?” I nodded my head, yes. We’d been drinking all day at the festival. He moved out of the room for a minute, or maybe longer, I don’t really know, and he came back with a drink in his hand and I noticed he had taken his boots off. The drink looked oily. Strong. He sat in a black leather chair opposite me on the bed. He didn’t say anything else. He sat and stared at me, like he was waiting for me to say something. He drained his drink, got another one and came back.

“Stand up.” He said. I did. It seemed like it just made sense at the time. It felt like it was what I was supposed to do.

“Now take off your top.” He could sense my trepidation.

“Go on. Take it off.” I reflexively bit my lower lip and tasted blood. A surge of blood pooled in my vagina. I took off my top. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and my breasts were very round and very perky. I was very proud of them. They were large, but not droopy at all. I looked down at my chest and he said “no. Don’t look at yourself. Look at me.”

I looked back up at him and was very pleased to notice a very large erection forming in his lap.

“You have very nice breasts, Dezzie. I bet you have a nice ass, too. Take off your skirt.” I shook my head. No.

“Dezzie. Take off your skirt.” It was something about his eyes that made me want to do whatever he wanted me to. I let my skirt puddle on the floor with my top. I was standing in a strange room with a strange man and all I was wearing was a white thong.

“You can leave your panties on. Turn around.” I slowly turned around. I heard him take a long swallow from his drink.

“Bend over” he said. I wanted to say no, but I knew I would give in. I bent over. “Mmmm. You do have a nice ass. You can straighten up now. And turn back around.”

I did.

When I faced him again, he had pulled his dick out of his pants and was slowly rubbing the shaft up and down. He was huge. I had never been with someone that big before and I was a little worried.

“Come here.” he said. “Don’t look so scared. I’ll be nice as long as you are. Come over here.” I walked over to the chair and kept looking at his huge cock.

“Do you like me, Dezzie?” I nodded.

“I like how quiet you are.” he said. “Now, I want you to lay across my lap. Okay?”

I was confused. I crawled up into his lap until my breasts were hanging off the side of the chair and his erection was poking my stomach. He started to rub my ass.

“I don’t know about this.” I said, weakly. He hit me, hard across my butt.

“Be nice.” He said and hit me again. I sucked in a breath of air and winced, waiting for the next blow, but he started feeling my ass again, this time dipping down to touch my engorged vulva. It wasn’t until he touched me there that I realized how wet I was and how much I wanted him.

“Dezzie, you seem awfully wet considering that I haven’t done anything to you yet. Are you imagining dirty things?” I didn’t know what the right answer was. I erred on the side of caution.

“No.” I said, almost breathlessly.

“Dezzie, I think you’re lying to me. I told you to be nice.”

He spanked me again, even harder this time, and in faster succession than before. I cried out a little and he hit me harder.

“Get up. I don’t think you can learn your lesson just by being spanked”. I stood slowly, realizing how much I didn’t actually want to get up, how much I liked being over his knee. He stayed in the chair and directed me to kneel in front of him.

“Have you ever been face fucked, Dezzie?” I shook my head. “No? Well, I think we’ve found our punishment then. Don’t do anything to mess this up, or I’ll make you do it for longer.”

He stood up and pulled his pants down and stepped out of them. He put his hands on the back of my head and started to stroke my hair with one hand while he stroked his cock with the other. “You ready, Dezzie?” I nodded, thinking how badly I wanted to have him do anything, anything to me or on me or with me, not really knowing quite what to expect but having some idea considering the positioning. He forced my head closer to his cock and used his hand to guide it into my mouth. I started to slowly suck on the head and roll it around my tongue.

“Good girl, good girl.” He moaned. He wrapped his other hand around the back of my head and forced himself to the back of my throat, down my throat. I had never deep throated before and I choked. He kept thrusting his pelvis towards me and my head towards him until I thought I was going to throw up or pass out, and right at the point when I thought I couldn’t do it any longer, he pulled out.

“Well, you did okay, but you choked a lot. What’s the matter? You don’t like my cock?”

“No, I like it very much.” I said, panting and wiping my mouth.

“You have been very good, for the most part. Would you like me to reward you?”

I nodded, eagerly, thinking of how good it would feel for him to penetrate me, looking back and forth from his hands to his cock.

“Lie down” he whispered, almost snarled in my ear. I fell back on the bed my legs hanging over the edge, and he stood over me, his cock dripping spit and pre cum on my thighs. He reached down and put a finger on each side of my thong and took it off so slowly I thought I was going to die. He finally looped it over my feet, and told me to spread my legs.

“I’m going to go down on you now, but you don’t have permission to cum. If you cum, I will have to punish you more.”

I thought I saw him wink, but it could have been a twitch. He pulled me even further so my ass was hanging off the foot of the bed, and he knelt between my thighs. He dragged his tongue along the intersection of my thigh and my vagina. He licked around my vulva and I writhed beneath him. He knew what I wanted and he wouldn’t give it to me. My knees started to shake, and he immediately put his hands on them.

“If your knees don’t stop shaking, I’m going to stop.” He said. It took every muscle in my body to keep my knees from trembling. He licked all the way around my clit without touching it, around the opening of my vagina without going inside.

“Please,” I begged, almost crying, “please fuck me. Fuck me hard.”

He didn’t answer; he kept licking all around me like a circle eight. When I thought I would explode, he quickly stood up, grabbed both of my legs and pulled them further apart and penetrated me. I gasped. His dick bottomed out and hit my cervix almost immediately, sending shockwaves through my whole body. He moved both of my feet to one of his shoulders and used his other hand to rub my clit. I think I lasted about ten seconds before I thought I was disappearing into the most massive orgasm of all time. My hands reached out to grab something and I clawed at the bedclothes and screamed as loud as I could. It just came out of my mouth. I couldn’t help it.

“I told you not to cum yet.” This time I knew he winked. “I’m going to have to punish you again. Is that what you want?”

When he asked me this time, I suddenly became aware at how much I wanted him to do horrible things to me. I wanted him to literally hurt me as much as he could.

“Yes.” I said, and he lunged, pinning me down to the bed and holding me there. He looked straight into my face. He stooped his neck and started biting my shoulders very hard. He moved down and started biting my chest, and then further and biting my breasts and nipples. He bit so hard, I thought I was going to scream from the pain, but something in it felt so right, I couldn’t. He bit so hard he drew blood, my chest already a bright red, quickly turning black and blue. He licked the blood slowly, cleanly off of my right breast.

“Nothing makes me hotter than the taste of blood.” He groaned, and I realized suddenly that he was as turned on as I was, if not more.

The balance of power shifted for a second, in my mind at least, as I realized that at this point, he would do anything I wanted him to, I just had to play it right. One of his hands had lifted from my shoulder and he was stroking himself again.

“You haven’t gotten to cum yet.” I whispered, “I think you should punish me for that.”

His eyes lit up a little, and he stood up off the bed still stroking himself.

“I think you might be right. I should think of a suitable punishment for you. I have a few in mind already.” I took the chance to roll myself over and push myself up on all fours. I tossed my head around and looked back at him.

“Can you think of anything suitable yet?” He stared ravenously at my round ass, my exposed pussy. I crawled up a little further on the bed. I don’t think he could talk anymore then. He got onto the bed, kneeled behind me, and thrust himself into me as far as he could. He went crazy. He pounded me so fast and so hard I thought he would tear me apart. He leaned over me and held onto my hips for balance. I moaned loudly and he slowed down a lot. I felt him slip a hand around my waist and slowly dip down. He thrust incredibly deep and achingly slow and pressed hard on my clit.

“This is hardly a punishment” I gasped. He lifted his hand back up to my hip, and resumed the lightning fast pace. I felt my hips involuntarily rocking back to meet his thrusts, and soon I was rolling around in an orgasm that I thought would never stop.

As my muscles started to contract, I felt his cock get harder, then explode inside of me in hot sticky waves. I could have gone on forever, but he pulled out.

“God, you’re a great fuck, Dezzie.” He pushed me over back onto my back and he lay down next to me, out of breath and smiling.

Things seemed to change after he came. Once the scene was over, he slipped back into the cool, distant guy I met at the street festival. He jumped up and pulled his pants back on. He started buttoning up his shirt and didn’t look at me at all. I lay on the bed, bruised, bleeding, and a little in shock. He looked up sharply and met my eyes.

“How far are you willing to go with stuff like this?” he asked.

“Um…I don’t know. I’ve never really…done anything like this before.” I said, still with a quaver in my voice.

“Alright. I guess we’ll have to play it by ear, then.” I was surprised. It sounded like he meant that we were going to hook up again some time in the future. I figured it was just a fuck, nothing really binding.

“I’m going to the store. Do you need cigarettes or anything?”

I looked at him strangely, “Um…I was thinking I would go back to the festival and meet back up with Amanda. She doesn’t really know where I am.”

His eyes flashed briefly.

“No. You’re going to stay here. Amanda knows you’re with me. I’ll take you home or something later.” He seemed flippant, and I was really confused. Did he just tell me I couldn’t leave? He seemed pretty sure of himself. I looked at him for a second, briefly thought about freaking out and yelling something about him kidnapping me, and then decided to play it off and be cool.

“Okay. I guess. Yeah, get me a pack of Camel lights.” He nodded and left, I heard him lock the door from the outside with a key. I found the bathroom and went in to clean myself up a little. I looked into the mirror and my chest was a mess. My breasts and clavicle were covered in angry red and purple bite mark bruises, extending down almost to my navel. I found a washcloth and ran some warm water in the sink and began sponging off some of the blood. I rinsed it out and started to swab my still swollen vagina and noticed I was bleeding slightly there, too. I knew he was big, but he was so big he actually tore me apart.

I rinsed out the wash cloth as well as I could and went back into the bedroom with the intent of putting my clothes back on. As I bent down to reach for my thong, I heard the front door bang open, and he walked into the bedroom quickly. He threw my cigarettes at me and started drumming another unopened pack against his palm. He opened the pack and pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and leaned back, surveying me.

“Wow, you really bruised up nicely” he said. I looked down at my chest again and noticed that there were still beads of blood, like pinpricks of sweat, forming across my breasts. I bent down and picked up my thong.

“What are you doing?” he asked. I shrugged. “No. Stay right there. Just like that. Let me look at you.” I stood, frozen and a little uncomfortable. He stayed there, standing across from me, leaning back, until he finished his cigarette. He stubbed it out in the ashtray and met my eyes.

“Lay down.” I obeyed. He reached into his steel toed boot and pulled out a rather large knife with a serrated edge. He held it in front of him and started pushing the point of the knife into the pad of his left index finger.

“Do you know what this is?” he asked. I shook my head. I could tell it was something other than just a regular knife. The handle had some kind of intricate carvings on it, and the blade had a strange curve. “This is an althame, a ritualistic knife for pagan rites. I am going to assume that, since you are not familiar with althames, you are not all too familiar with paganism in general. The althame is not meant to kill or maim. The althame is a sign of trust, of sacrifice, proof that life hurts sometimes but the pain is often bitter sweet and purposive.” As he spoke, he moved closer to me on the bed.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asked. I shook my head. No.

“I’m sure that you’re at least wondering what I’m going to do with this knife.” I nodded, and my hand involuntarily reached out to touch the handle. He pushed me back and continued.

“The althame also represents the masculine. Besides its obvious phallic quality, it represents the violence of sex. Sex is always violent, Dezzie. Some people are just more open about it than others. The act of penetration is violent in and of itself. I literally invade your body. I force myself in.”

He started to trace the very tip of the knife very lightly over my body, outlining my curves, defining my breasts. I shivered. He climbed on top of me and straddled my waist. He slowly, deliberately, traced a line from shoulder to shoulder. He placed virtually no pressure on the blade, and it felt like a very gentle scratch from something cold and metal. He moved up and started tracing lines across my neck. I was surprised by how excited it made me. He traced a line from the top of my forehead down to my chin, back down over my throat, down to my navel, down to my public bone and then he stopped. I sucked in a ragged breath.

He got off the bed and started to undress again. I noticed how slowly and neatly he undressed this time, taking care with his bootlaces, folding his pants over a chair. I was throbbing and pulsating and wild with the thrill of what was about to happen.

“Spread your legs more.” he commanded. I complied quickly. When he looked down and saw the inside of my labia, he immediately started to get hard. I started rubbing my middle finger over my clit to see if he would respond.

“Do you like touching yourself?” he asked. I nodded. I moved my hand back up to my face and licked my finger clean. He responded. Greatly. He picked up the althame from the side table where he had left it while he was undressing. He got on the bed and started tracing one of his fingers over my clit.

“Do you like it when I touch you?” he asked, softly. I nodded. He positioned himself above me and said,

“I’m not going to hurt you, but I might scare you. Is that okay?” I got a little concerned, considering how violent our last sexual encounter was. He seemed so soft and gentle now, he was so hard to read. I didn’t know if he was being that way because he was feeling gentle, or if he was about to do something so horrible to me that he really had to get my consent ahead of time. I considered the possibilities, and decided that I really really wanted him to fuck me again. I nodded.

He grinned, but his eyes turned mean fast. He moved his left hand, the one holding the knife, next to my throat so that the side of the knife was resting against the side of my neck. He put his right hand on my shoulder.

“If you move too much, the althame will cut you. It’s not my fault; you’ll be the one who moves into it. Think of this as a lesson in trust and restraint. I would suggest that you keep your hands at your sides.”

With that, he slammed his hips down and penetrated me, keeping the hand with the knife in it steady and still. He pumped quickly at first and then slowed down a little, filling me with his cock and then letting it slide almost all the way out. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, away from the blade, arching my spine at the same time. I felt the pressure leave my shoulder and I could feel his right hand as it spidered up to my throat. He started to palm my neck, rubbing his hand along my trachea as he continued to fuck me with those long, slow strokes that drove me mad. He added pressure to my throat gradually until I started to gasp a little.

“Filthy bitch.” he almost whispered, “You like that, you little whore?” I gasped. I loved it. I realized that my vaginal walls were swelling, that my muscles were contracting tight around him. He slammed his cock deep inside me, fast, and I gasped again.

I think back to Jason and I realize that a lot of what happened really probably stemmed out of some kind of misogyny. Granted, I wanted it, and it turned me on to a whole new world of sexual kink, but I don’t think he ever had a girlfriend, and I’m pretty sure that’s why. Danny’s different. We take to bed with us a strange power exchange. In the daylight, I’m bitchy and domineering to a large degree. Because of my job and my situation, I have to be. That’s why I want to submit.

At first I was scared it was some kind of admission that I wanted to be a “weak woman”, but now I realize it’s all about the role play, all about the giving over to whatever I want. I’ve finally convinced Danny that it’s okay to “hurt” me, and as he rides me in the dark, with his hands pinning my arms down and his teeth sunk deep into my breasts, I realize what a great man I have.