They were words I’d never said in my life before. “Please fuck me.” That wasn’t me. It wasn’t who I was. But the words had come from my mouth. He knelt between my legs, his mouth an inch away from my clit, his fingers stroking it softly. My body yearned to feel him in me again.

One climax wasn’t enough. I wanted so much more.

We hadn’t even kissed. The touch of his lips on my neck had served as a reminder of how distant yet intimate he was. I’d never known anything like it. I’d never met anyone like him.

It was like he was scared of getting close to me. It seemed more than just the clichéd male fear of commitment. It had run deep enough to send him from the room in the middle of fucking me. That was how damaged he was.

What did it say about me that it only made me want him more? Not that it mattered. It was only a week and then it was over.

I’d told him I was doing it for the money and he had no reason to doubt me. I was just a sex toy for him, a doll to play with and then discard when he got bored.

That was obviously why he was doing this. Wander around looking for women he could easily manipulate. He had enough money to throw around to make it worth their while. That way, he was also ensuring they kept their mouths shut about the things he was into.

I wondered how many times he’d done this before. How many women had been shaved on this table? Ten? Twenty? A hundred? I was just one more in a long line of playthings.

I pushed the thought away. I couldn’t handle that idea. That I was nothing special to him. Of course, I’d always kind of known that was the case. He hadn’t become so expert at teasing without lots of practice.

I was nothing special, I tried to tell myself. I was just one among many. Don’t fall for him whatever you do, I thought when he was cleaning me in the bathtub.

I had to stand there during the most erotic experience of my life, my pussy still tingling from being fucked by him. I couldn’t move. He wouldn’t let me.

What kind of person fell for someone like him? I hardly knew anything about him and yet I felt as if I knew the one thing that really mattered. I knew he was a good person.

Despite everything he’d done, I knew he was a good person. It was in his eyes. It was in the way he spoke to me, the way he treated me.

He had been harsh. He had been cruel. He had spanked my ass red, he’d left me locked up as a prisoner in his house. But I’d agreed to it all. I knew the safe word. I knew I could walk away at any time.

I could lie and say I was staying for the money, that I was only doing this to help my family. But I knew the truth. I was staying because I wanted to, because I wanted to know what it would feel like when he came inside me for the first time. I wanted to know how his lips would feel pressed against mine. I wanted to know what it would be like to wake up in bed next to him, to breathe him in as he slept. I wanted all of those things and more. So what did that make me?

Weak?

Pathetic?

Submissive?

Sitting on that table with him between my legs did not feel weak. The way he stared at my pussy did not make me feel pathetic. It made me feel strong, powerful, worshipped. He was worshipping my body and as he stood up and brushed his cock over my pussy, I worshipped his, my arms slipping around his back, my legs wrapping round him, holding him against me, words falling from my mouth. “Please fuck me.”

My whole body was on fire with need and then he did it.

He thrust all the way into me a single motion. It felt so good, I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t think. All I could do was enjoy the feel of him stretching me, filling me, making my dreams come true.

It was the greatest sex I’d ever had. He remained buried inside me, not moving for nearly a minute, staring into my eyes as I rocked in place, wanting the motion of back and forth, my nerve endings on fire.

“You’re a good girl,” he said, pulling back at last and then pushing in again.

“Thank you, Sir.”

He pushed my chest down until I was laid flat on my back, my legs still dangling, his cock still buried inside me. He held my hips as he began thrusting faster, staring down at my pussy as his cock drove into me, making my breathing ragged.

I knew I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t want him. I should want normal, ordinary sex with a normal, ordinary person.

But that wasn’t who I really was. I wanted to be taken. I wanted to be used. I wanted to obey him, to do what he told me, to present my body for him. If he’d told me to walk down the street naked at that moment, I’d have done it without hesitating. I could think of nothing more important than pleasing him.

A smile of joy spread across my lips as he continued to fuck me. I was making him look like that, I was the cause of that wild expression in his eyes. “I’m going to come inside you,” he said, slamming home, his hips grinding against mine.

“Come in me, Sir,” I said, moving my hand to my clit, stroking it so fast, my wrist ached. I was desperate to come before he did, knowing he might not let me orgasm, he might make me wait even longer.

He didn’t stop me, slowing enough to watch me as I touched myself.

Knowing he was watching turned me on even more, as did the feel of his cock as it twitched inside me. He was getting close.

“Fuck me,” I gasped, feeling my climax approaching. “Give it to me, Sir.”

His eyes went wild as he began slamming into me, the whole table shaking as he buried himself deeper in me than I thought he could possibly go.

“Oh fuck,” I muttered. “I’m coming. Oh shit.”

I couldn’t say another word. An orgasm hit me that was so powerful it took my breath away. At the moment it struck, he came, his climax making mine all the stronger.

I could feel his cock spurting into me, filling me up as he groaned loudly. I couldn’t see anything, my eyes were watering, my body shaking in place, my pussy contracting round his cock, holding him, drawing him deep into me, wanting to never let him go, not wanting this to be over yet.

But as his hand moved to my clit, I realised he was far from finished. He’d only just begun.