Turning Point 4

Man subdues angry girlfriend and changes everything.

(Short Story)

Looking back on it now, it was a turning point for us. We had been dating for a little over a year, and things had gone from fairly fantastic, to routine, to downright ugly. We were arguing over every little thing, it seemed; completely at odds with one another. I can't speak for Rob, but for me, it wasn't purposeful or anything. Things were just unsettled between us, I guess.

My dad used to always say,

Shit or get off the pot

. We were at that point in our relationship where we were stuck somewhere in between. Constipated, I guess. We weren't ready to commit, but not ready to quit, either. Sort of stuck in that dead space, going nowhere but in a circle, and frustrated as hell. Yeah, constipated. Only, I don't think either of us was aware of it at the time.

So, there we were, in the middle of a nasty bout of over-the-shoulder zingers, followed by the usual silent treatment. It had been going on for days. I don't recall exactly what started it, but that was hardly relevant by the time Friday of that week rolled around.

I thought it was a little strange that Rob wasn't home from work by the time I arrived. He always got off work before I did. But it wasn't something that caused alarm immediately. I mean, I didn't exactly make it a habit to keep that close of tabs on him at all times. By the time the sun was setting, however, I was starting to get worried. Okay, to be more accurate, irritated. His absence was irritating me.

I don't recall what time he strolled through the door, but I do recall letting him have it before he could even remove his hand from the doorknob.

"Where, the

fuck,

have you been?"

He briefly held up a plastic bag and then let his hand drop back to his side as he walked briskly toward the bedroom.

"So...

What

?! You went shopping and didn't have the decency to call me?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Did it ever occur to you that I might want to do something? It is Friday night. Would've been nice to get together with some people from work."

"Then why didn't you? I don't care if you go out with friends."

"I thought we were doing something."

"Like what?"

"I don't know.

Something

."

"We haven't done anything on a Friday night, or hardly any other night for that matter, in weeks. Fuck, maybe months. Why should tonight be any different?"

"That's not the point. You could have called, you inconsiderate

bastard

."

Rob drew a deep breath in through his nose. His eyes closed as he slowly emptied his lungs of air. When he opened his eyes, his pupils were large, black marbles, and his jaw was clenched tight. I could feel my heart rate quicken.

He's pissed now.

I instinctively took a step backward. Rob had never struck me, shoved me, or even threatened me before. But he'd never looked quite the way he did at that moment. I knew I'd pushed him too far. It was a combination of events, the culmination of a miserable week of nastiness.

He clenched his fists and then released them several times, as if readying himself for physical action; all the while, staring straight at me, or rather through me, with those ominous eyes. A chill crept up my spine leaving a trail of gooseflesh in its wake. I could still hear my last word hanging in the stagnant air between us.

His voice was a menacing whisper that I had to strain to hear.

"I've had enough."

His tone, his eerily quiet manner, and total stillness, sucked the fire right out of me. I was frozen in place. My mind spun in meaningless circles trying to process his words.

We'd had our share of fights over the previous few weeks, but it was never like this. For every name, every insult I dished out, he matched me to the tee. He was as quick with his tongue as I was, and not at all shy about it. And loud. Our fights could shake the rafters loose. This was different.

Rob took a step backward and then turned toward the dresser. He dumped the contents of the plastic bag on top and sorted through the items, plucking a couple of things from the pile before spinning back toward me.

I'm not sure I even noticed what he had in his hand. His deathly glare seemed to paralyze me as he moved closer.

"Rob, I..."

"Shut up, Cynthia."

I don't know if it was his use of my formal name, instead of

Cindy

, that startled me, or just his overall demeanor. Or it could have been what he was holding in his hands, and I just don't remember. Whatever it was, I was literally frozen with fear.

He reached out and plucked my wrist, pulling and twisting in a way that forced me to spin until my back was to him. He yanked my other arm behind me, and in a matter of seconds, my wrists were attached together, secured at the small of my back. He must've shoved me toward the bed, because I began to fall onto it, in what felt like slow motion. My head turned sideways as it was about to hit the mattress, but I was too stunned to do anything else to prevent what was happening to me.

Rob climbed onto the bed, straddling my torso and pinning me hard against my bound limbs. In his clenched fists was a length of material that he swiftly clamped down over my mouth, until the silky material was sliding between my lips. He had the scarf firmly fastened behind my neck before it even registered in my brain what he was doing.

Finally, my brain caught up or something. I was mad. I started to scream obscenities at him, but was immediately surprised by how muffled the sound came out through the scarf.

"That's why I had to gag you. We can't get anywhere with that mouth of yours."

I yelled,

fuck you

through the scarf. It didn't come out clear, but it wasn't difficult to figure out what I'd said.

"Oh, we'll get to that. Don't worry. But you need to listen to what I have to say first."

I wasn't ready to give up the fight. I swung my legs wildly and bucked my body in an attempt to throw him off balance, and off my body. It was no use. My legs gained no purchase as they were dangling off the edge of the bed, not touching the floor or the mattress.

After several minutes of senseless flailing, I finally stilled myself. I was having difficulty drawing enough breath through the scarf to sustain such physical exertion. Except for my panting, I lay completely quiet beneath him.

"Are you finished?"

I shot him as evil a look as I could with my eyes. But I had no other ammunition. He'd effectively taken away my primary weapon, my voice, and any means of escaping his wrath.

"After this is over, if you want to pack your things and walk out the door, I won't stop you."

I nodded my head furiously.

"We can't keep living the way we have been. Something's gotta change, Cyn."

He lifted his buttocks off my torso, but gripped my sides with his knees to keep me in place. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a knife, and opened the serrated blade. I began to realize the seriousness of my situation, I guess, because this intense feeling of panic gripped me.

I screamed and shook my head wildly from side to side. I was afraid to make larger movements. Somewhere in my mind, I didn't think he would seriously hurt me on purpose. He could by accident though, if I shifted enough to throw him off balance.

My heart was beating hard in my chest. Tears pinpricked the corners of my eyes. I was fearful of what would happen next, but not because I felt my life was in danger. He'd already told me I could walk away after he was done making his point. He had no intention of killing me. Besides, I'd dated him long enough to know he didn't have a real mean streak. I'd provoked him plenty of times, sometimes alcohol-induced, where he had both motive and opportunity to strike me, but didn't.

At that moment in time, despite the fact that I was completely subdued, I was mostly afraid of losing him, as strange as that sounds.

Rob held the knife firmly in his right hand as he yanked my tee shirt loose from underneath him with his left. Then he simply poked the knife through the material and flipped his wrist creating a large tear down the center.

I yelled through the gag,

what are you doing?

He chuckled and set the knife down on the mattress to free his hand to rip the shirt the remainder of the way. It held at the ribbed collar, but he made short work of slicing through it with the knife while I held perfectly still, afraid he might slip.

His eyes surveyed my bare skin for a few moments before he lifted the knife to my chest. He carefully slid the blade underneath the center of my bra, then twisted the handle and lifted swiftly, slicing through the material. The cups sprang to the sides, exposing my bare breasts.

Rob smiled as he surveyed his prize. Without taking his eyes off my breasts, he set the knife down next to me on the bed. Then he cupped both breasts into his hands. He wasn't particularly rough, but not at all gentle, either.

His hands fully enclosed around my mounds. He massaged the tissue, lifting them up, and feeling the weight in his palms. He pressed them together while his thumbs ran circles over my nipples. I didn't have to look down at them to know they were growing stiffer under his touch. I could feel how sensitive they were becoming.

"I think you like this."

A tear rolled down my cheek as I closed my eyes. He was right, but I was too ashamed to admit it, even to myself. I could already feel the sensation building in my belly, but it wasn't right.

I shouldn't feel this way. It's wrong.

Rob leaned forward and sucked my right nipple into his warm, wet mouth. His lips wrapped tightly around the area as he pulled my nub to the roof of his mouth. He suckled noisily for a few moments and then lifted his face, holding onto my nipple with strong suction. Looking into my eyes, he released it with a loud slurping pop.

He grinned and chuckled. "I've always had this thing...fetish, whatever, about breastfeeding." Rob ran his tongue over my extended nub. "I'd like to know what breast milk tastes like. I'd like to suck on one of these until it ran dry of milk, and then move to the other one."

He squeezed my left breast in his hand and wrapped his mouth around my other nipple, pulling it into his mouth and sucking until my nipple was stretching to the back of his throat.

I could almost imagine what it would feel like. To provide nourishment; to feed him like that. As he hungrily fed at my breast there, I wondered if it would turn me on as much as it would him. Judging by my pebble-hard nipples, I guessed that it would.

He once again pushed my breasts together and moved his tongue over one, and then the other, hard nipple. He flicked them roughly, a little playfully at first, and then with a bit more force, until he was nipping and pulling at them with his teeth.

I mewled through the scarf and he looked up at me in shock. It was as if he'd forgotten there was a person attached to the breasts in front of him.

He stared at me with a blank expression for a few seconds and then began speaking quietly. "I should have done this a long time ago. I let it go on for too long."

Rob lifted the knife off the bed and placed it in the middle of my chest. The open blade was inches from my breasts, the tip pointing directly at my throat. He carefully sat up and swung his leg over until he was no longer sitting atop me. The knife blade shifted slightly along my skin, inching closer to my right breast. My breathing turned shallow. Every heart beat registered as a tiny reverberation along the blade. The precarious position of the sharp edge ensured I would not move a muscle, for fear it would slide along my skin and slash me.

His fingers busily unbuttoned my shorts and very gingerly pulled the zipper downward. I didn't take my eyes off the knife blade. Every tiny movement made it sway a bit on my chest.

"If you help, I think we can do this without a nick. If you don't, well, it might get messy."

I nodded my assent. Rob gripped the waistband of my shorts with both hands and kept a watchful eye on the knife as he slid the shorts down over my hips. My bound limbs provided enough elevation for him to do this without much assistance from me. I focused mostly on keeping myself balanced while he accomplished his goal, using the movement of the blade as my guide.

"See how much nicer it is for both of us when we work together?" Rob repositioned the blade in the center of my chest. "I think I'll leave that there for awhile. I rather like you like this."

His fingertips trailed lightly down my stomach and over my lower abdomen. He stroked the thin patch of pubic hair over my mons and then, without warning, parted my labial lips with his finger. He wiggled his finger a bit and then applied force until it slid all the way inside.

"You're soaking wet, Cyn. Spread your legs wider."

I carefully opened my thighs and he rewarded me by plunging deeper into my channel with his middle finger.

"You want me to fuck you right now, don't you?"

My head nodded, almost involuntarily. I didn't really want him to, at least I don't think I did, I was in some kind of trancelike state, teetering on the edge, much like the knife swaying between my bare breasts.

Rob shook his head. "No, I don't think you're ready. I think you're still confused about how you feel about this. On the one hand, you're obviously highly aroused by it. On the other hand, I think you're ashamed about it, too. And maybe, you're still a little pissed off at me. Are you, Cyn? If I removed your restraints, would you slap my face and run out the front door?"

I searched my mind for the answer. It was hard to identify what I was feeling. And it was not becoming one bit clearer, as his fingers curled inside me, rubbing against that soft spot of my front wall. My eyes rolled back into my head with a groan.

The feel of his hot, wet tongue on my clit brought me back. I released a high pitch squeal.

No, no, no, no, I can't hold still for that. Please!

He ignored the noise and continued to work my clit as his finger pistoned in and out of me. My screams morphed into grunts and moans. I tilted my pelvis into his face, trying to force a more vigorous stimulation. The knife tip threatened to pierce my throat as it inched up my chest. I no longer cared. I had one thought in my mind.

Please, I want to come; I need to come.

Rob lifted his head and noticed the blade position on my chest. His finger retreated from inside me.

"I think you'd let that thing slice your throat without complaint as long as you got an orgasm out of it, wouldn't you?"

I shook my head weakly, but it was no use. He was absolutely right. I felt the blade shifting, but it did nothing to stop me from grinding my hips into his face.

Rob started to reach for the knife and then changed his mind. He stood up and moved between my splayed thighs. His fingers lazily played in my wet folds.

"Some things need to change around here for this to work. I've been thinking about it a lot lately. Somewhere along the line you stopped respecting me. I don't know when, or why, but it's causing a real problem."

Rob deliberately lowered onto his knees and plunged his tongue into my weeping slit. I cried out through the scarf. He lapped at my wetness, swirling his tongue all around my sex in a careless fashion.

"It's not like I'm asking for much. I'm a pretty simple creature, really. If you'd just be more like you are now, we'd both get what we wanted." He swiped his tongue up my slit and flicked it across my hard clit. "I'd get to taste your pussy regularly, and you'd get the release you crave. And something tells me we'd be fighting a whole lot less. What do you think, Cyn?"

I held perfectly still. The knife blade was now pressing against my throat and I feared even a sound might create a problem.

"What's the matter, knife got your tongue?"

He chuckled at his own humor as he stood up.

"Stay there for a sec."

He chuckled again as he walked to the dresser. I heard the rustling of a plastic bag.

What now?

His fist was clenched around something; I couldn't tell what it was because it was completely hidden in his palm.

"I really like you like this. You like it too, I'm afraid to tell you. Your nips have been bunched up into tiny points this whole time. I intend to keep you riding this razor edge, pardon the pun, for as long as it takes. It's the only way I can think of to get through to you.

"You see, I realized something this morning. We haven't had sex in weeks, and it was making me real tense. Jacking-off in the shower wasn't cutting it anymore for me. I mean, what's the point of being in an intimate relationship if you aren't intimate. Right?

"So, I got to thinking that maybe you were real tense, too. Only maybe you didn't even realize why. I knew there would be no chance of talking you into having sex with the way things have been with us."

Rob pinched my nipple between his finger and thumb and tugged at it for a few seconds. The movement was all it took. I felt the point of the knife poke at my throat. I knew it had drawn blood by the look on Rob's face.

His gaze locked onto my neck as he tilted his head to the side. I expected him to pull the knife away in horror. Instead, this curious expression fell over his face, and a tiny smile formed on his lips. I could barely see from my angle that he was unfastening his jeans.

My fearfulness doubled.

Maybe I was wrong about him. He's getting off to this. What if he goes too far?

"You're scared right now. Just hold still. It's just a minor cut, nothing serious.

Here

...this will take your mind off it."

He fiddled with something in his hands. I heard the humming noise about a second before I felt him shoving it inside me with his fingers. A mild vibration penetrated my inner tissue, sending tiny shockwaves up my spine. I flinched and felt a sting at my neck.

"You don't want to do that. You should probably hold still right now."

Hot tears rolled down the sides of my head.

Why are you doing this to me? Please, please, please...

The begging and pleading in my mind just forced more tears.

At first I was wracked with fear. I was frightened of how far he'd let that knife go before stopping it. I pleaded in my mind for mercy. I begged for him to let me go. I just wanted him to stop torturing me so I could pack my things and get out of his life forever.

Gradually, those thoughts were replaced. I didn't even notice that it was happening. I started caring less about my situation and more about the incessant throbbing inside me. The low vibration wasn't enough to bring me to climax, but it was enough to make me completely consumed with desire.

Rob's whispering voice brought me back to our bedroom from the place where my mind had wandered off to.

"That's more like it. That's my girl."

He lifted the knife from my chest and placed it on the mattress, close to my head. He ran his finger along my neck. The saltiness of his skin on my wound, stung; I winced as the throbbing in my groin area intensified.

He licked the blood off his finger, and with his other hand, he pumped his fist furiously. I dropped my chin in time to witness him ejaculating onto my tummy and breasts. Drops of hot fluid warmed my skin. I let go a groan at the sight and feel of his release. My pelvis began undulating, trying desperately to come with him, afraid that once he was finished, he would be done with me.

Rob placed his palm over my sex until I stilled my hips. He reached for the device and pressed on the end, intensifying the vibration slightly. My thighs parted as wide as I could manage. I knew he wasn't going to let me get off on that thing. He had something planned. And he was in total control. What was surprising me, and quite honestly also disturbing me, was how much I was responding to him taking control. I liked it.