It was the summer of 2014 and I was on a journey to sexual freedom and enlightenment. I’d always been adventurous, but my tastes were evolving. I traveled this winding and treacherous road at full speed. The experience was exhilarating and terrifying. I could have taken a turn onto a safer road, or I could have slowed my speed. Instead, I went faster. There was a deep, insatiable need to go further into the abyss.
And the sadist was happy to take me there. Into the darkness.
We spoke everyday after our first encounter. Sometimes we would talk for hours. Other days we would have brief chats. We were becoming close. I began to understand more about him and he learned more and more about me. He was in my head. I longed to see him again. We made plans a couple of times, but life got in the way.
One Sunday morning I received a text, “Come to me. Today.”
I was surprised. I replied, “Where?”
“I will send you the info as soon as I check into the hotel. I will see you around 4:00. It will be close to where you are. Make arrangements to stay over, if possible.”
That was a challenge. With three kids, almost impossible.
I sent a response, “I will do my best to stay as long as I can. I am excited to see you…and a little scared.”
His response, “Don’t be scared. Same rules apply as last time with safewords. Text me when you have made arrangements.”
I called my babysitter and came up with a reason to be gone for several hours. I knew an overnight was out of the question. She agreed to come over at 3:00. I texted to let him know. I finished up everything I needed to do for the week (my typical Sunday routine) and readied myself for another session with the sadist.
At 3:30 I received a text, “Room 432, Marriott. Be here by 4:15”
I felt nervous and yet relaxed as I drove to meet him. I didn’t know what to expect from our second session, but I didn’t feel any real trepidation about meeting him again. I pulled into the parking garage and made my way up to his room. I was wearing a black and white, body-hugging dress and strappy wedge sandals. My skin was tan from a recent visit to the beach and I’d just had my hair highlighted. I’d straightened it, to change things up. I approached the room and as I knocked, he opened the door and snatched me into the room.
He stood behind me, pressing my face into the wall. His voice was strong and assertive, “I said, 4:15, slut. It’s 4:17. Turn around and face me.”
I peeled my face from the wall and faced him. He looked agitated. I felt a sense of panic. My voice was wobbly as I began to apologize, “I am sor..”
And before I could say the last syllable, I felt the sting of his open hand on my cheek. I was shocked. I’d never been slapped in the face. And before I could mutter another word, he slapped my face again. Tears began streaming down my face as I tried to regain my composure. My mind raced and I wanted to say my safeword, but I felt paralyzed by fear.
“Your tears are what I want. It’s so fucking sexy. Cry for me. Cry more for me.”
I was shaking in my skin, as I didn’t know what would come next. I finally managed to verbalize a sentence and said, “I put no hitting in the face on my questionnaire. Why did you hit me like that?”
And holding my tear-stained face he looked into my eyes and grinned at me. “You are so beautiful when you let yourself go. When you allow yourself to be vulnerable.”
I didn’t care what he thought because he violated my limits. “But I said not to hit me in the face. Please don’t do that again.”
He just smiled at me as he led me to the bed. I questioned whether or not to go any further. I was so shaken by what had just happened that I did feel the trust I’d felt during our first meeting. He could sense that I was on the brink of leaving.
“I know I should not have done that, and I sincerely apologize, Tess. Your tears arouse me and I became too excited when I saw you. I didn’t want to wait for you to give them to me. I wanted them now. Please forgive me.”
It seemed like a sincere apology so I reluctantly decided to stay. He slowly undressed me, taking his time as he purposefully peeled off every piece of my clothing. He pulled my hair back as he removed my earrings and necklace. “I have some other ‘jewelry’ to put on you, Beautiful” I stood naked in front of him and as he placed silver nipple clamps on my nipples. There was an adorned chain that connected them, and he gave it a tug to make sure it was secure. He had me lie down on the bed placing the cuffs on my wrists, looping red silk rope through to tie my wrists to my ankles. “Open your legs wide and bend your knees up, so I can secure your ankle to your wrist.” The silk rope was soft on my skin and I was bound, open and exposed. He tugged on the chain as he massaged my clit with the violet wand and again, I was not allowed to orgasm. I held on for as long as I could and then begged for release. He finally allowed me to cum.
He blindfolded me and I heard him rummaging through his bag for something. Not being able to see what was coming added to the excitement. Soon, I felt the sting of the flogger across my stomach as struck me and then tugged on the clamps. I was helpless and under his control when I heard a faint knock at the door. I panicked, “Who is that at the door? Cover me up please.”
I heard him snicker as he said, “There’s no need to cover you. The fun is just getting started.”
I heard the door open and could tell someone had walked into the room. Still blindfolded, I could not make out who it was. Was it a man? A woman? Why were they here? I was naked, bound, blindfolded and helpless. I didn’t hear any voices, but I heard what sounded like a wrapper being opened.
“Hurry up and get the condom on. Fuck the hell out of her. She wants it rough. She will love your big cock”
I felt every part of my being, freeze. I was paralyzed with terror. What was happening? I struggled to find my voice…to scream my safeword…and I couldn’t say anything. I just lay there, motionless as I felt him push himself inside me. I then felt someone sit on the bed beside me as I was being taken. I recognized the cologne, it was the sadist. “On the questionnaire, you expressed a real interest in being fucked by a stranger, didn’t you?” his voice was deep and breathy. “Answer me, now.”
My mind raced as I began doing a mental review of all of my answers. And it was true. I did have a stranger fantasy. I managed to find my words, “Yes. I did.”
He moved in closer, hissing in my ear. “Indeed, you did. How does it feel to be fucked by a stranger, Tess? Is it what you wanted? Do you feel scared? Does it feel perverse? How does his cock feel? Talk to me.”
And with that, the terror of the situation began to dissolve. It was true…I wanted to be taken by a stranger. I wanted to feel fear. “Please remove the blindfold and I will tell you everything.”
He pulled the blindfold away and I laid eyes on the man fucking me. He was younger than I, in his late 20’s. By his haircut and physique, he seemed military. We stared into each others eyes as he sank into my wetness. The sadist was growing impatient, “Talk. I want to know what you are thinking.”
My voice was sultry as I moaned with pleasure. “He feels good. His cock fills me and I love that I don’t even know his name. I am tied and helpless and he keeps fucking me as you watch us.”
He seemed pleased with my answer as he quipped at the young stranger, “Fuck her harder. I want to hear her scream.”
The stranger quickened his pace as he pushed further into me. I gasped as he pulled my hips into his, going even deeper. I was close to the edge and I felt the sadist’s hand on my throat. His grip was strong and I felt myself fading…almost losing consciousness as he released his hold on me and pulled on the nipple clamps. I moaned from the pain and he pulled again, and again. The stranger was aroused by my sounds and in a matter of minutes we both exploded.
“You fucked her well. Now get dressed and leave.” the sadist’s tone was direct. The young man quickly dressed and walked out. The sadist turned to me, “How are you, Tess?”
“I’m okay. I have finally calmed down a little, but that was beyond terrifying. Who was he?” I asked.
The sadist smiled and said, “He is someone who owes me a favor. He is one of my students, in the physician’s assistant program. I knew you’d enjoy him.”
That was a relief. He wasn’t a total stranger and everything was safe. I said, “I did enjoy him, but my legs and wrists are beginning to hurt. Could you please loosen the ropes?” I knew it was a risk, asking him to untie me, but I was really sore. And if he didn’t, I was at the point of saying my safeword.
“Sure. I will loosen them. In fact, I will take them off. And then I am going to have my way with you, slut.” He untied me and had me roll over onto my stomach. From under his pillow he retrieved that huge dildo he’d used on me the first time. “Remember this?” he grinned.
I tensed up as I didn’t know if I could withstand that in addition to what I’d just experienced. “Yes. How could I forget?” I answered.
“I want to make sure you don’t forget. Open your legs.” I noticed that he had not used any lube, like he did before. I braced myself for the pain. Instead of putting it in my ass, he pushed into my sore cunt. Pushing it all in with one stroke. I screamed from the pain and the pleasure.
“Feels good doesn’t it?” he growled as he began to finger my ass. “I am going to fuck your ass with my cock this time and you will take it until I tell you otherwise. Got it? Both of your holes will be filled until you can’t take any more. Don’t beg me to stop because I know how badly you want this.”
He was right. I wanted it all. I wanted the pain. The torture. The pleasure. I wanted him to take it all from me. The feeling was so intense that I cannot recall when or how we finished. I think I may have passed out for a minute. When I came to my senses again, my entire body was shaking and began to weep. It was too much to keep bottled up. I let it go again. Everything. I let it all go.
He held me in a warm embrace until I stopped shaking and came back to my center. I will never understand how an acutely intense sexual experience can purge so much from a person. After I settled down, I felt energized and free. I began to recognize that I released emotional pain when I experienced physical pain. It was beautiful and powerful.
I didn’t linger there, as I needed to get home. My mind was racing with questions, but I no longer felt confused by my feelings. Once again, I recognized who I was. Walking out of that room, I decided it was the last time I would ever see him. He served his purpose by helping me remove the mask.
And I have never looked back.
(Photo credit, Pinterest)