They text me when they’re outside. They don’t ring the doorbell when they get here this late – they don’t want to wake my roommate. I sneak downstairs to let them in, dressed in a too-big t-shirt and no panties. I want them to grab me and kiss me there: to kiss me forcefully while holding my face in a vice-like grip. I want to see their mouth twitch in a grin when they release me, knowing I’m swooning as I try to catch my breath.

The fewer clothes I’m wearing when I go down to let them in, the more likely it is that they’ll kiss me and start the sex there, when I’m barefooted and shivering as much from the chill as from their dominance. When I’m downstairs I’m allowed to squeak, maybe, when they bite my lip at the end of the kiss. When we go upstairs I have to be silent… so obviously they do their best to fuck me hard and fast and do all sorts of twisted things that make me want to scream.

They’re always in control when we fuck – we negotiated that before they made me choke on their cock for the first time. But when they turn up at my flat in the middle of the night to enforce my silence for a hushed fuck, they don’t let their air of detached dominance drop.

It’s not that these fucks aren’t fun, but when they turn up on nights like this it’s to use me with no regard for my pleasure. They silently assert their authority in a way that would frustrate me if I didn’t find it so hot. I can’t be a brat on nights like this – or rather, I can, but they have no qualms about hurting me until I submit. They’ll pinch my nipple cruelly or twist my earlobe between two long fingers, reminding me with a look that if I don’t behave I won’t get to feel those fingers inside me.

I’m often half asleep when they bend me over the bed and use their belt on my ass The pain wakes me up and I would make me squeal if they weren’t pushing my face down into a pillow. I can’t take enough pain from the belt for it to leave marks that last, but they pull me over their knee afterwards. They spank me hard and fast until I don’t think I can take it anymore, and then they push me just a little bit further, all the time whispering a harsh reminder that if I so much as squeak before they’re finished, they’ll stop and I won’t get fucked.

When they’ve satisfied their sadistic cravings, if I haven’t made a sound, they order me to lie back and spread my legs. It’s so hard to lie there still while they stand back and watch me make myself vulnerable for them. I feel so exposed, naked and doing my best not to squirm as they examine me. They take their time in deciding how to fuck me. I want their hands on me, so they make me wait. I watch them roll up their sleeves and flex their fingers. The deliberation behind these actions makes them obscene, even though they’re still fully dressed.

They don’t let me come, because I’m too loud when I come. I argue that I’m just as loud when they edge me again and again, with their fingers and their tongue and whatever toys they’ve decided to bring with them. They lie next to me, one of their hands over my mouth while the other makes small, careful circles on my clit. They’ve fucked me so many times that they know what each tiny change in my facial expressions mean and when they tell me what a filthy little bitch I am in their low voice I have to bite my lip to stop myself whining.

Just when I’m about to cry with frustration because I want to come, they push me off the bed and unzip their jeans. They’ve finished playing with me, now it’s time for them to get off. The closest they get to being naked on nights like this is when they pull out their dick. It’s hard – it’s so fucking hard that for a minute I feel pride that I did that to them. And now I get to do this.

They let me start slowly – a hand curling around their shaft while I gently suck the tip of their dick. Their hand twists in my hair as I take their cock to the back of my throat, and they control the pace with which I deep-throat their dick. They’re better at staying quiet than I am, but I’m good at sucking their dick: they don’t have to hold back when they fuck my face.

Sometimes they’ll use my mouth until my eyes water, so there’s drool and tears running down my cheeks. They stay composed while reducing me to a wet, slutty mess who exists just to make them come. It’s very, very hot, and I love feeling their cum fill my mouth. Or at least to look up and see their smile – that means good girl even if they don’t say it – when they come all over my face.

They kiss me again, still punishingly, but there’s a hint of gentleness in their voice when they remind me that I’m not allowed to wash it off until the next day. They want me to feel dirty and used, and I’m supposed to be being quiet, so I don’t point out that they’ve already made me feel dirty and used. Instead I push myself as close to them as possible as they spoon me, because scenes like this need some kind of aftercare even if neither of us is ready to talk about it.

We don’t always fuck at my apartment – when I’m half-asleep and greedy for their touch – but those hushed fucks are the harshest. Not just in the pain they dole out, but in the way that they treat me. It’s the biggest power imbalance that we play with, but I really get off on it. Not that night, of course – they text me when they leave to remind me that they expect me to fall asleep with the smell of my cunt on my fingers and definitely not satisfied.

The next time they make me hold their belt in my mouth – their thick leather belt, which they’ve beaten me with before – while they take a cane to my ass. The cane is a fucking bitch, and I would yell if I didn’t have the belt to bite down on. They’re not satisfied by my squirming and little whimpers of pain, though. They produce nipple clamps from their pocket. It’s hard not to cry out when they attach them; it’s really hard not to squeak in pain when they tighten them; and it’s impossible not to make a sound when they cruelly pull them off without warning.

“I said you couldn’t make a noise,” they hiss. “Have you forgotten that this is for me, not for you? I don’t care if it hurts, you need to be quiet. Maybe you’ll be more obedient after I spank your cunt.”

I beg them to reconsider – with my eyes, I know using my words to plead will only get me in more trouble – but they are resolute and force my legs apart. In the moments before they slap my cunt, their touch is gentle. They run their finger-tips down my belly and kiss my thighs, building up the anticipation so the first hit will hurt even more. If they were being kind, they would hold me down. They prefer to do something far meaner: they wait until I open my legs again after every strike. I curl up into myself after each slap, my body trying to process the pain mixed with that tiny spark of pleasure where their hand connects with my clit.

And then they smear the wetness from my cunt all over my face, and I moan quietly because I can smell my own arousal.

I didn’t think I would get fucked that night, but they decide that it’s more fun to edge me when my cunt is still smarting from the spanking it just received. They were right: I want to close my legs and suck their dick, not have them pay more attention to my sore genitals. They touch my clit in ways they know feels so good usually – and still does tonight, it’s just that tonight everything is raw and tender and I’m so much more sensitive. I think about their sadistic grin the next morning when I touch my still-aching cunt until I come.

A week later, they give me a challenge. When I go downstairs to let them in, they grab me and whisper to me that they’re feeling particularly sadistic tonight. They hold themselves just out of reach, so I can’t interrupt them with kissing as they explain that they want to give me a fair chance. Because after all, this isn’t a night when they want to hurt me because I’ve been a disobedient brat, but because they want to hurt me because it makes them hard.

“I want you to fuck me. Fuck my cock with your cunt, and if you can get me to make a noise I will go down on you until you come. If I manage to stay silent – which I will, because I have control unlike certain sloppy little sluts – then I get to do all of the twisted things I’m imagining to you. Deal?”

I nod – how could I refuse a deal like that? They rarely use their dick when we fuck like this. They enjoy denying me the pleasure of something thick in my cunt to clench around. Their long fingers hit my g-spot over and over again while they stay a little detached and definitely in control. They always do sadistic things to me – that’s the point of these nights: at least this way I get their cock in me first.

I’m not dominant when I climb on top of them. My position might be superficially dominant, but they’re in charge. They lie back while I do all the work: rolling the condom on to their dick and then straddling them, with my thighs shaking with effort as I try to lower myself slowly. I can’t tease them for long, because it feels so good to have them inside me. I sit on their cock, clenching my cunt around them and trying to ignore the fact that their face is expressionless.

I ride their dick hard and take a grim satisfaction in the fact that their smirk eventually turns into a more guarded expression. I like to think that they’re having to put at least some effort into staying quiet while I fuck them. It feels so good to have them inside me, but it feels strange to fuck them when they’re not scratching their nails down my back or ordering me to pinch my nipples. There’s something missing from the sex – somehow it isn’t as satisfying to fuck them without the edge of pain.

The edge of pain, this time, comes after the sex. It comes after I feel their dick twitch inside me, and I feel spunk filling the condom. I collapse on top of them, breathing in their familiar smell of their chest. They give me half a minute to catch my breath. Well, twenty seconds.

“Are you finished?” they ask. There’s only the tiniest drop of condescension in their voice, and I squirm in cunt-clenching shame. They’re grinning now, and I smile too because I love this. I love taking the dark, twisted sex that leaves me feeling satisfied even when my cunt is aching.

“Yes.”

“Good, because now you have to be completely quiet while I use you.”

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