I entered the Eroticmeet.net competition last month and won!
Thanks again to everyone who voted for me. Check out Eroticmeet.net if you are interested in meeting other erotic creatives online or at events. If you want to know what kind of things we get up to, have a look at this post.
For those who aren’t part of Erotic Meet, I give you my competition entry.
Out of My Comfort Zone
He made me say my safeword last night.
I was happy laying in his arms in bed, ready to fall asleep, but he had other ideas. Pressing his weight onto me, his hand was on my face squeezing round my jaw he said,
“I’m going to rape you, you fucking whore. You are my fucktoy.”
Ignoring my half-hearted protests, he forced me into submission by stripping me naked. When I wasn’t responding the way he wanted he raised his voice. His voice is usually calm and assertive. These booming commands made me flinch and I was already nearly in tears. He sounded like a different person. When I didn’t respond he clipped me round the ear, the blow struck the side of my face slightly and with that I ceased my resistance. I asked him not to hit me on the face, it wasn’t a full on slap but it was close enough to cross a line that we agreed on. That didn’t make me say my safe word though; immediately I knew the line had moved.
He only got worse. If I didn’t move quick enough he would land his hand on my arse, hard and without warning, literally beating me to submit. This wasn’t my usual calm happy docile state; I was in tears from the panic of putting a foot wrong. I couldn’t move fast enough, I was in too much of a state to follow his commands quickly. My skin was on fire, I lost count of how many times he had slapped me.
He dragged me onto the floor without consideration onto the rough carpet. He pressed the tip of his cock against me, easily parting my moist labia. I clenched up in instinct. He grabbed my face and forced me to look at him as he called me a cunt, then pushed his cock in me. I winced as I felt my tight muscles stretch around him. He put his hand over my mouth and moaned as he pushed in every last bit.
His hands were continuously pulling my hair or round my throat, yanking my body onto his cock like a wank toy, an object. I could feel every red hand print being rubbed by the friction of the floor. He pressed his weight on me, his cock unrelentingly forced with every thrust. I yelped, I moaned, I whimpered with every jerk. Tears were still rolling out of my eyes, weeping over the degrading act of being used, unashamedly, for his own sadistic pleasure.
He lent his forearm across my throat, my eyes rolled back as air wheezed through my restricted throat. My head felt light and my limbs were suddenly weak from the lack of oxygen. When he released me I coughed and gasped for breath. He grabbed my face and spat. I scrunched up my face as his saliva rolled down my cheeks, followed by my tears of humiliation. I cried over another crossed line yet I still hadn’t said my safeword. He continued to fuck me on the floor like a piece of meat, without even a pause for pity. ‘Fucking slut, shut up.’
I held my breath to stop my whimpering. He bit my nipple, and it felt wrong. It didn’t feel nice or pleasurable. I screamed, I knew he had bitten it too hard. It hurt so much that when he went for the other one I pushed his face away, except I used my nails. Suddenly I was like an animal cornered and I lashed out with my claws. It didn’t feel like a game anymore.
In retaliation he went to slap my arse again, but I somehow blocked his swing before it landed.
I heard his sinister laugh as he moved away from me, almost as if impressed with my reactions. My blood ran cold when I realised it had only spurred him on. I drew my knees in and huddled on the floor in a ball, too broken to scamper away. Out of my sight he picked up the paddle. I received a shattering blow to my exposed arse. The sting echoed in the room followed by my cries of pain.
I wailed as he grabbed my hair and dragged me up onto the bed. My scalp was burning, my arse was raw and my pussy was battered. He moved onto my mouth.
He pushed his erection in my face. It was hard, he was enjoying this a lot. Though in tears I still love feeling his cock react in this way, but it filled me with a fear in the pit of my stomach knowing this onslaught on my body was only just beginning. Obediently I sucked it; I didn’t want to be punished again. I tried to be good but my whole body was shaking, my throat was dry and my nose was blocked from crying.
He pulled on my hair to push his length down my throat, my eyes watered and my body convulsed as I gagged. I pulled my face away and left a trail of saliva heaved from the back of my throat running down my chin. He smeared my spit and his pre-cum over my face using his cock, groaning and uttering obscenities at me. Every word, slut, whore, cunt, served to demean me further.
I felt his weight shift and I caught sight of the paddle. I reached up and grabbed it to try to snatch it out of his hand. I don’t know what I was thinking, I wanted to protect myself, my skin stung so much. Pathetically I tried to tug it away.
‘Let go!’ That voice of dominance, that loud sinister tone that filled me with dread, ‘You will only make it worse for yourself.’ After a small struggle, I let go of the paddle and cried over my own weakness. This was getting beyond anything I had experienced. He had pushed me to the point that I would do anything to not feel any more pain, but I had already done the opposite by trying to snatch the paddle away.
‘Please don’t hit me, please, I’ll suck your cock please don’t hit me!’ It all rolled out in one strained breath. I begged through my sobs like I was pleading for my life. I was on my back, my arms held against my breasts with open palms. This animal had given up and was now cowering beneath him.
He told me to move, I stayed there on my back protecting the tender areas that had barely recovered. He grabbed my leg to roll me over and lifted his arm high, brandishing this paddle above me.
‘No stop!’ I screamed, followed by my safe word, my voice strained through a raw throat and tears, ‘Fucking stop!’
‘Alright, alright, I’ve stopped.’ his voice immediately returned to normal and I scampered away from his body and curled into the foetal position, my head buried under a pillow trying to control my sobs.
I was crying because I said my safeword. I was crying because I wanted him to push me to tears. I was crying because I liked it when his hand hit me in the face. I was crying because I liked being brutalised onto submission. I was crying because I was genuinely in distress. But most of all I was crying because I was still wet. After all that, I could feel it growing between my legs. Somewhere in my twisted mind, I enjoyed being used as a pathetic little fucktoy.