I don't know where this carnal desire came from. This raw fiery passion for pain and humiliation. Was I born with it? Did I develop it? Or simply instil it in myself? Should I be ashamed? It's not the norm, I know. But if it can't be helped, I can't be blamed. It was all hypothetical, until I met him. Now it's reality.
It was shortly after my 18th birthday. I was in the locker room with a few of my friends, chatting and venting the days annoyances onto one another. Till my friend, Amber, removed her shirt to reveal light bruising along certain parts of her body and what looked like claw marks, red against the pail, smooth skin of her breasts.
"Amber! What the heck?!" I said, not at all trying to hide the worry in my voice. She looked down as if almost surprised to see herself maimed.
"It's not as bad as it looks!" She reassured. "Really. It's Greg. We decided to get experimental. You know like rape role play and what not. I'm really into it." She blushed a little and quickly put on her workout shirt. "He said it kinda freaked him out. So he won't do it anymore. It's a shame really." We knew enough about the two of them to believe it. Greg could barely punish his dog when it was bad and Amber was always a touch girl.
The idea of it sent a tingling sensation through my body that ended in the place between my legs. And that's when it began. I've always been an innocent. The smiley, kind, caring, loving girl. The one who blushed when sex was mentioned. Who'd never built up enough courage to go all the way. All the while promiscuity seemed to come naturally to my friends. Which is why this new feeling shocked me. The idea of being forced, hurt, and humiliated instantly sent a signal to my right hand telling it to fall between my legs and stroke. Submission had become more than a character trait, it was now a sexual need. A persistent fantasy.
I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. At my dark brown hair, big brown eyes, and impish smile. The large breasts I tried to hide under loose t-shirts. I pulled my hair into pigtails, enjoying the innocent look it gave me. Then immediately took them out.
A few days after, while stocking shelves at my department store job, I had an encounter that would change my live forever.
"Excuse me, miss?" I turned around to see a strangely handsome man in his late 20's early 30's. A beautiful rugged face surrounded by neat, controlled, dark curls. His dark eyes surveyed my body, starting from my baby doll shoes and ending at the top of my pigtailed head. I had decided to leave them in that day. I instantly felt dirty and it excited me. His eyes lingered on my breasts, which today weren't covered by a loose t-shirt. But were propped up in my good bra and displayed by a tight pink t-shirt I stole from my sister. I wasn't sure what possessed me to dress like this today but I soon regretted it. Once he was finished undressing me with his eyes a devilish smile crept onto his face. I blushed. "Ye..Yes, s-s-sir." I stuttered intimidated by his penetrating gaze. A habit I'd developed because of my nerves. I began to feel that familiar tingle in my lower half. Imagining him running his rough hands through my hair then pulling. I instantly felt ashamed. No, I thought. This isn't what I want. This is disgusting.
He pointed to the shelf behind me. "Could you grab that for me?" It was well within his reach. But I complied. Turning around. I was in a lesser used corner of the store. No one usually ventured to the pet department so late in the evening and none of my co workers could be found so I began to get a little nervous.
Just as I reached out I sensed him pushing closer to me. I could hear his breath near my ear and feel the front of him pressing into my behind. He let out a ragged breath before reaching his hand around and cupping my right breast. Instantly the bump I knew was in the front of his pants began to grow, pushing it's way up my short black skirt and pressing against my ass. My face continued to heat and I gasped. It was so big.
