"Bastard!" I fume as I march down the street one night. "Bastard! Bastard! Who does he think he is? How could he do that?" I lean against a wall of a pub and then turn and kick it, but my heels are high, 4" heels, pointed toes with studded ankle strap, and it hurts bad. "Fuck fuck fuck!"
"You know, talking to yourself is a very bad habit" drawls a voice from a doorway.
"Who's there?"
Slowly you step forwards, 6' of denim and leather, your eyes shaded still. "What's the prob, sexy?"
I'm still raging. "The problem,
sexy
" I say, pacing up and down, "is that my boyfriend is a fucking huge fucking wanker and fucking fucks me off."
"Bad night, sexy?"
"Oh yes. He's dumped me for another man."
"Well that's a fucker alright." You offer me your cigarette, but I shake my head. "You're stressed, hon, you need to chill out."
"I don't feel like chilling out, I feel like being very, very violent, I want to get physical, I want to fight, I want to hit, I want to scratch, and I want to scream."
Slowly you exhale. "Come for a ride. Escape all this. Something hard and firm throbbing between your thighs. You'll like it. It'll feel good."
I pause from my pacing and take a deep breath. "Well that would certainly make a fucking change. But I'm not exactly dressed for it."
You walk round me, looking down at my leather dress, fishnets and bondage shoes. "No problem babe, just unzip the zip up from the bottom of your skirt. Higher than that. Higher. Don't be shy, we're both adults. Good, now just wait here, I'll be right back."
A minute later you're back carrying two helmets, and you help me strap mine on, and show me how to climb onto the bike. And then we're away, my arms wrapped round you, laughing with exhilaration. You drive out of the town and into the country and soon we're speeding along empty roads, faster and faster round the bends until I'm almost screaming with excitement.
Suddenly there's the sound of sirens and the police are chasing the bike for its speed. Instead of slowing you speed up, and I cling on for dear life. We speed along and into the forest, the trees masking us from view as you turn down small roads. And then suddenly you pull a sharp turn and stop, hidden behind some trees in a carpark. We have lost the policecar and we're all alone. I take off the helmet and look all around. We're by a small ruined church in the woods with a graveyard of slanting and tumbled mossy stones.
You see me looking round curiously and lift me down. I go to re-zip the dress, but you stay my hand, and lead me towards the church. Inside it's bare, except for an altar stone, a couple of carved angels looking down sorrowfully from pillar tops and a few beer cans in the corner. A large hole in the roof lets the moonlight stream in.
"Ever fucked in a church?" you whisper, your arm round my waist.
I shake my head. "Never been in one. Not religious."
"I'm gonna fuck you now."
"Good. I want it hard and fast."
"Maybe. Gonna make it one you'll remember."
Before I can reply you're crushing me to you violently and I feel your beard against me, scratchy as our mouths open and we're exploring with our tongues, tugging your bottom lip, you biting my neck. Your hand is pulling my skirt up to bare my ass and I fumble with your jacket, but again you stop me and instead I fumble with the laces on the bodice of my dress so that my breasts are bare in the moonlight. We pause and meet each other's eyes for a second before you rip off my thong and slam me hard against a pillar, squeezing my nipples so hard that I cry out in pain.
"Is this what you want you fucking whore? A real man? Who can take you whenever he wants?"
I nod silently, biting my lip from the pain on my nipples.
"You're
my
slut now, I've got you just where I want you. Nobody,
nobody
, knows where you are so you are totally in my power and you have to please me. And I want lots of noise, understand? Otherwiseβ¦"
I raise my eyebrows.
"Otherwise you'll feel such fucking pain you'll β¦ wish β¦ you β¦ wereβ¦. dead."
Totally freaked, I nod wildly.
From your pocket you pull a pair of handcuffs and cuff one of my wrists. You drag me over to the stone altar table. I stumble and fall, and you stop and kick me in exasperation before dragging me a couple of paces as I climb back to my feet. At one side you bend me hard over the cold stone and I moan. You reach my hands underneath the table, the cuffs only just do up, pulling tight into my skin, making me cry out.
"Hurts you, slut?"
"Yes sir."
Laughter. "Good. Now bend your legs up behind you. Further. Further. Harder now, I really don't think you're trying hard enough here." SLAP my bare ass. "HARDER, YOU BITCH! OK, just a bit of rope round your ankles, should give a nice burn." Then you slip a collar round my neck and attach the rope to it, I can just breathe if I don't struggle. "Good girl. Doesn't that feel good now? All wide open and ready for me?"
"Yes sir" I gasp.
"And let's see now β yes, so wet. Yeah, you were wanting a bit of rough, weren't you?"
I laugh with difficulty. "Yes sir."
Walking round the side you pull my bound ankles higher and higher, until I'm gasping and screaming. Release. Then pulling again. Release. Then pulling again, and holding for so long I feel faint.
And then I'm down on the stone again and my legs are being untied, I'm gasping for air, big cool lungfuls. Now you spread my legs at the knee, so they're hanging over the sides of the table. My cunt and ass are totally open to you. Slowly you run your finger round, exploring me, sending me wild with lust, making me gasp for you.
"Want me, don't you
sexy
? Wanna feel my cock inside your slutty cunt, don't you,
sexy