GROANS AND MOANS (short steamy stories)

DND2

Somehow, by a statistical freak, it had never come up in Craig’s List Roulette. But the habit of compliance had become strong, and it didn’t occur to her to say no. She gestured to the lube and the condoms on the nightstand, and said only, “Slowly, please. I’ve never done this before.” And she got on her hands and knees on the bed. It hurt a little. He wasn’t as slow as he should have been. But that was kind of okay. Again, she pictured where she was, what she had done to get here, what she was doing now. She remembered that she was being f****d in the ass for the first time, in a sleazy motel room by a man she’d never met: a man she’d undressed for and offered herself to the moment he walked in the room. She remembered that she was facedown on the bed and that her ass was being pushed open, too fast and too hard, because she’d invited any man who showed up at her door to f**k her any way he wanted.

She remembered what a slut she was, that she’d asked for this, that she deserved this. She buried her face in the bed and whimpered: a genuine cry of pain and fear, blending imperceptibly with a moan of abandon. She’d pictured her first time getting f****d in the ass a hundred times. She’d never pictured it happening like this. It was a hundred times better than she’d ever imagined. She loved Motel Slut. And again, she kept the game up longer than she would have…because she was putting off the third one. She was more than a little afraid of the third one. The third game, she called Pick the First. It required a lot of courage. She was glad she’d put herself through Slut Boot Camp first. And it required strict honesty with herself. She couldn’t rely on the randomness of a number generator, or the randomness of which man happened to be reading Craig’s List at the moment she placed her ad. In Pick the First, she had to read the ads on Craig’s List. Casual Encounters, Men Seeking Women. She had to pick the first ad that turned her on; the first ad that made her want to masturbate. And she had to send him this email. She wrote it ahead of time, before she started looking, so she couldn’t cheat. I don’t want to negotiate. I just want to do what you tell me. Please tell me what you want me to do, and what you want to do to me.

Please tell me everything you can think of, now, so we don’t ever have to talk about it again. If what you want is okay, I’ll be at the Java Jive Cafe on 4th Street this Saturday at noon, with a black carnation in my hair. Please meet me there, and then take over. It took longer than she’d thought to find the right ad. She considered Submissive women needed for thick c**k, but the poorly lit photos of his torso and c**k made her flinch with distaste. She thought about Arrive, bend over, submit, leave, but the scene he laid out stopped at s*x and went nowhere interesting. She regretfully passed on Cruel, humiliating, abusive and sadistic: the headline made her c**t jump like a kangaroo, but the ad was a letdown, with no juicy details, and an equivocating manner that put the lie to the promise of the headline. She kept an eye out for her spanking friend, but he wasn’t on Craig’s List that day. She saw Brutal M seeks submissive W, and opened it. It read: I am a hard and unyielding man seeking a woman to whom I can do things. The things I want to do are not nice. I will want to use you sexually, humiliate you, hurt you, make you helpless. I will want you frightened, and suffering, and willing and compliant throughout. Am not looking for either brats or doormats. You should have desires, so I can deny them.

You should have spirit, so I can break it. It made her uneasy. To say the least. But it was the one she kept coming back to. The one she knew she’d be jerking off to. So bolstered by weeks of rigorous self-training in impulsive carelessness, she copied and pasted her pre-written reply, and hit Send. He replied with a torrent of obscenity. Implements he was going to use to beat her ass until she cried. Objects he was going to insert into her. Degrading positions he was going to force her into. Other men he was going to lend her to. He said he was going to wrestle her onto her back, pin her arms to the bed with his knees, and force his c**k down her throat until she gagged. He said he was going to tie her hands so she couldn’t fight, gag her so she couldn’t scream, tie her legs apart, and whip her p***y before he f****d it. And then he was going to do the same to her asshole. He said he was going to punish her righteously and ruthlessly for serious offenses. That he was going to punish her cruelly and unjustly for trumped-up offenses. That he was going to punish her for no reason at all except that he felt like it. He said he was going to make her spread her asshole apart for him with her hands, make her beg him to punish her by putting things inside it, make her apologize tearfully for being a bad girl while he did it.

He said he was going to slap her face and call her a filthy w***e while she sucked his c**k. He said he was going to rape her. He went on for three pages. He apparently took tell me everything you can think of seriously. He finished with the words: None of this is up for discussion. You will comply with all of it. You may show reluctance—I like reluctance—but you may not show resistance. Except when I rape you. When I rape you, I expect you to resist. I will see you on Saturday. He scared the crap out of her. She knew this was a bad idea. Even with all her other Craig’s List adventures, she hadn’t done a third of the things he was talking about. She knew she was in over her head with this one. But she’d known that Craig’s List Roulette and Motel Slut had been bad ideas, too. And they had been the best bad ideas of her life. She put the date in her calendar for Saturday. And cleared the rest of her calendar.