Brains, Bites, and Denial

He tells me he's going to hurt me. Badly. He tells me he's going to bite me hard, and I whimper. This is sort of what we do. I beg him no no no, please don't. I stomp my feet and lean away, claw at the car door I'm pressed against, hoping I can get out of what I know is inevitable. I fidget and alternate between trying to see what's going on and not wanting to know. He's behind me, pinning me to the car. He changes his voice, tells me to stop, and I shut up. He shoots me a look-- I feel it not see it, and he takes a different tone, and I can't help it. My cunt twitches and part of my brain shuts off. I put as much as my fear as I can gather aside and I try to stand as still as I can bear. I sense him moving behind me, my eyes pressed shut. The anticipation kills me but I don't have to wait long-- he rips into my shoulder blade, hot pain radiating through it from his teeth through my back. He holds me tight, and my mind goes dark. My mind is down to three things: my body, the pain, and his arms around me. He bites a little harder, minor gradients and I make small noises, breathing heavy. Far off in my mind, I know my mouth's gone slack and I'm probably moaning. My body processes it, dull pulses headed straight to the wetness between my thighs. Everything's electric and hot and tight. He releases his grip slowly. He holds me gently, almost, if not for his viscious teeth. He pulls away from me, pulling my flesh, and it feels so amazingly good. I may have pulled back too, just as a biological affirmative, since I lost words already. I relax a little, just feeling, and incredibly thankful for his kindness. He could have bit suddenly, the kind of bite that makes me cry, makes me grip the indentation he leaves when it's over, the kind of bite that makes me beg no in the first place. The dark sadistic bites meant to break and terrify. And just as these thoughts cross my mind, he adds more pressure, bites harder, faster and I cry out. You're never really safe when dating a sadist. He releases my shoulder and my knees practically buckle. I reach for him, and pull myself into a hug with him. He holds me while I burrow into his neck, arms around him. Warmth spreads from the bite and I hold on to him like an off balance drunk girl avoiding collapse. He smells so good. There are kisses, sweet ones, and I can't imagine anything hotter than this.

But there is. Later in the evening, he whispered dark things to me. I don't even remember what he said, I was so far gone, I kept looking down, unable to meet his eyes. He'd say things, hot things, domly things, and I could barely respond. His words just washed over me and sent me down down down, wetter and wetter I stood listening, spellbound. Frozen with my own heat coursing through me. I don't know how he does it and it scares the hell out of me. Is this what those hypnosis guys are into? Is this what mindcontrol fantasies are about? He let me come back to myself but now I have this fresh memory of being stripped bare and frozen in front of him, featherless. It won't leave me alone, cycles through my head when I least expect it and I sigh.

When the evening ended, he told me I wasn't allowed to cum for 48 hours. I am pretty sure this is how normal girls feel when surprised with flowers. About a month ago he punished me (a much longer story,) saying I would be able to do whatever I wanted with masturbation. No need to ask to use certain toys, no need to ask permission at all. But he also wouldn't tell me what to do with toys, wouldn't tell me when to do dirty things to myself, wouldn't deny me orgasms, wouldn't make me wait and tease me terribly. I felt bad to start because usually when a dom tries to do something like this with me, I don't care. I like cumming, frequently, and I don't like having mindgames getting between me and my own greedy pleasure. I thought he wanted me to feel guilty for the orgasms I got. I didn't. But a week in and I was nearly beside myself, neurons on fire with want, goosebumps appearing on my arms at the thought, and no matter how many times I came it didn't help. I read erotica, all of it about girls getting caught cumming when they weren't supposed to, punished with something easier like pain or a stern lecture. Adam laughed at me-- missing something? Maybe. I complained to people, and they mocked me, laughed, told me I'd get through it. And somehow, it was worse than not being allowed to. Much worse. But last night, finally, he told me 48 hours of denial and it's as hot and comforting as his hand at my neck. The pressure, the control, it makes me deliriously happy to be allowed to return. To be forgiven even a small amount. I'm not allowed to cum until 11pm Saturday. The past 24 hours have been so good-- I've had plenty of free time, plenty of moments I would normally amuse myself during, and instead I felt my submission and good lord how I've missed this. Torturous all the same, but how I've missed it.

Introduction

I decided to come here because after five years or so, perhaps I have finally outgrown livejournal. I love the community, but sometimes I want to write without the judgement of friends filters. These days, I want to share with a larger audience. There's a shortage of good erotica out there, let me tell you. Since I've been dating Adam, I've been meaning to help the world solve that problem. Plus, I figured I was missing out on some of the fun. So hello there!

I'm Rachel. I'm 20, a college student, and I like people who can hit hard.