Elise's Need
Brad and I had been buddies for a couple of months. We'd met each other through
mutual friends and gone on a couple of group camping trips together. We seemed
to have a lot in common and always had something to talk about. On the camping
trips it seemed we never got many chances to talk though. Everyone was always
drinking or getting high, and one or the other of us always ended up being
either too intoxicated or too distracted by an intoxicated friend for any good
conversation to develop. Frequently on those trips, I'd glance across the
campfire at him and find him gazing at me with a soft smile. It always unnerved
me. He had this way of making me feel like he could see my thoughts, and
although it was dark, I felt sure he could see me blushing. I was always the
first to break the gaze, and then I'd sit there feeling a bit flustered and
wondering what he's thinking and if I'm overreacting and just feeling generally
foolish and young.
After those first couple of camping trips, I started thinking about him a lot. I
felt unusually shy around him and couldn't figure that out. I'm not overly
assertive but I certainly wouldn't describe myself as shy. But he was intriguing
me. The effect he had on me was something I wasn't used to, and I found myself
fantasizing often about just how much of an effect he might have on me in more
intimate circumstances. I have a tendency to be aggressive and perhaps slightly
dominant with the men I date. For a long time I thought that was just the way I
was, but over the last couple of years I've come to realize I'm really searching
for a man that is dominant enough and strong enough to tame me and force me to
submit to him. I've had many many fantasies about being dominated and most of
them involve me being forced into sex or servitude in a semi violent fashion,
and they always involve the man calling me degrading names like slut and cunt. I
don't know what it is about the degrading names, but they always get me off.
Lately, Brad has been the focus of all of my fantasies. I imagine him gazing at
me the way he has so many times, and me feeling helpless under that gaze, and
then he begins to talk to me in that deep quiet voice of his, leaning in close
to whisper in my ear all of the things he intends to do to me, and how he
expects me to be a good little whore or I'll be sorry...
I'd just finished with a particularly rough version of this fantasy and a
fantastic orgasm earlier today when the phone rang, and to my embarrassment and
delight, it was Brad. Would I like to go grab a coffee with him? Of course I
would, so I agreed to meet him at his apartment, which was only a couple of
blocks from a coffee shop, so we could walk there. I was all nerves as I stood
in front of my closet trying to decide what to wear. Brad and I had never been
alone before. We've always been with a group of friends, which allowed me my
intrigue without having to wonder if it would actually turn into something. But
spending time alone with him...would I get that helpless feeling today that I'd
felt so many times under his powerful gaze? Would he look at me today the same
way he'd looked at me across the dim fire those times in the past? My stomach
fluttered with nervousness as I finally pulled on a pair of jeans and tee shirt,
deciding casual and comfortable was probably best since we were just going for
coffee. I checked my appearance in the mirror and with a deep breath, I grabbed
my purse and keys, and headed out to my car.
As I pulled up to Brad's place, my stomach started knotting up again. "Pull
yourself together, Elise," I muttered to myself under my breath, "this is just
coffee, this is not a big deal." Telling myself this seemed to give me a brief
boost in confidence and I got out of the car and walked toward the door before
it had a chance to subside. As I neared the steps, he opened the door and stood
there leaning against the frame, watching me walk toward him. I suppressed a
small gasp as the sight of him created a warmth between my legs and my pulse
quickened. I thought of the fantasy I'd been having before he called earlier,
and I could feel a blush rising along my neck. He wore a pair of loose fitting
jeans and nothing else. As I walked toward him I couldn't help but be aware of
how small I was compared to his powerful frame. He had broad shoulders and a
well muscled chest and arms. But what really got me were his ice blue eyes. They
bore into me while he stood there with a soft smile on his lips.
"Sorry, I'm not exactly ready yet," he said as he opened the door wide, "come on
in while I grab a shirt and a pair of shoes."
I walked into the living room and sat on the couch, looking around. His place
was very comfortable and casual. The furniture was all mismatched second hand
stuff, but it was decent and gave an eclectic character to the room. He had an
enormous bookshelf along one wall that was crammed to overflowing with books of
all size. On the coffee table was a stack of books all devoted to eastern
philosophy, mostly Buddhism. I thought to myself how rare it is to find a man
that is not only sexy and charming but thoughtful and intelligent as well. Then
I thought again of the fantasy from earlier in the day, and felt the heat
stirring between my legs once more.
I heard him coming down the hall and quickly tried to compose myself. He had a
shirt and shoes on now and was putting a wallet in his back pocket. He sat on
the couch next to me.
"So, I was thinking we could walk down to the coffee shop and get a couple of
drinks to go, and then come back here. I've got a joint that I've been saving
and thought you might like to share it with me."
"Sounds good to me," I said with a shy grin. My pulse was pounding in my ears. I
prayed the coffee and the joint would mellow me out so I could just relax and
get to know him without being so tense. I was certain I was just being silly.
Brad is a nice, sexy guy. I've known lots of nice sexy guys and didn't swoon
every time they spoke to me. Why should he be any different?
We walked the two blocks to the coffee shop making small talk and enjoying the
sun. I start to relax a bit. We got our coffee and began the walk back. When we
got to his house, he told me to make myself comfortable and that he'd be right
back. I sat back on the couch, nursing my coffee. The warm liquid was soothing
my stomach and I closed my eyes for a minute, just listening to myself breath,
trying to maintain the calm I'd finally managed to feel. He returned quickly,
setting an ashtray on the coffee table, and then he just stood over me, looking
down at me. I felt frozen as I lifted my eyes to meet his gaze. I felt like my
eyes were locked to his, and once again, that familiar warmth started up in my
sex. I could feel myself getting moist with this man staring at me in silence.
"You know, you're really beautiful, Elise," he told me quietly. Then he sat down
next to me and handed me the joint and lighter, "you first." I grinned at him,
blushing at his compliment and feeling thankful that he'd finally released me
from that stare. I put the end of the rolled paper in my mouth, and lit it,
inhaling deeply. I took a large hit, and holding the smoke in my lungs, I handed
it to him. I leaned back and our eyes locked again as he began to take a slow
hit. We sat like that for several minutes, silent, passing the joint back and
forth between us, eyes locked. As I began to feel high, my situation with him
started to take on a dream like quality and all of the nervousness left in me
melted away. I sighed and smiled at him, sinking back against the couch. We
finished smoking and he put the roach in the ashtray, and then turned to me.
"You know Elise, I've been thinking about you a lot, and I think I've got you
figured out. Not entirely, but there are a couple of things I'd be willing to
bet on."
I raised my eyebrows at him teasingly and laughed. "Oh really? You've figured me
out. Well let's hear it. Tell me about myself." I leaned toward him a bit and we
were inches apart, both sunk back into the couch lazily, our faces turned toward
each other.
In an instant he lunged toward me and his hand closed around my throat, his
weight baring down on me. His lips almost grazed mine as he spoke. "I think you
need desperately to be shown what you are, and I think I should be the one to do
it."
At first I thought he was joking. I laughed and moved to brush him off of me,
feeling myself getting turned on by this contact and the resemblance it had to
the fantasies I've been having. But he didn't let me brush him away and his face
became very stern as his grip on my throat tightened.
"Brad..." I began to talk as I realized he might be serious, but I didn't know
what to say.
"Shut up and listen to me, Elise," his voice was low, almost a whisper, but his
tone was menacing and confident. I could feel a war beginning inside me, my fear
battling my body's reactions to this man. I reasoned with myself that I was high
and he was high and maybe this was just a game. But I knew that wasn't the case
before I could even finish forming the thought.
"Elise I've been watching you for awhile. I can see this in you. In the way you
walk, in the way you look at me, in the way you drop your eyes demurely when I
stare at you, in the way your pupils dilate and your face flushes a bit when I
talk to you. You might not admit it now. You might fight me. You might say I'm
wrong. But I know I'm right. And I promise you by the end of today you'll know
I'm right too."
His hand did not leave my throat while he spoke, but his other hand wandered up
behind my head and held a handful of my hair, gently tugging my head back. His
lips had been brushing along my cheeks and jaw and ears and then back to my
lips. I was trembling and gasping for breath, struggling to shake off the fog I
was in and understand what was going on.
As suddenly as he'd lunged onto me, he stood up and stepped back a couple of
paces. "Stand up and come over here," he said in a commanding voice. I was
confused and unsure of what was going on. I didn't move and just stared at him.
He's got to be kidding. This is my fantasy. This isn't real. I'm high and he
must be joking. I let myself laugh a little and smile up at him weakly, "Brad,
come on," I began, hoping he'd grin and admit to the joke. But his gaze hardened
and his eyes bore through me.
"I said stand up and come over here, slut. If you won't comply I'll force you,
but it's easier on both of us if I don't have to." I felt a moment of resentment
and rebellion. I stared up at him and dared him with my eyes. We held each
other's gaze, silently battling each other, my will against his. But then I felt
myself weaken. Part of my mind screamed at me to get up and walk out, to tell
him I didn't want any part of this game. But I felt my body move to a standing
position, and before I knew it, I had moved over in front of him and was gazing
up at him timidly.
His gaze softened a bit, and he smiled slightly. "Now that wasn't so hard, was
it, slut?" His tone was so gentle and silky it caused shivers to run through me.
I shook my head no, and then dropped my eyes, wondering what would happen next.
His hand shot up to the back of my head and yanked it back with a handful of
hair. His face hovered over me, his mouth sneering, but his eyes enticing me,
mesmerizing me, "For every time that you fight me, or hesitate to do what I tell
you to do, you will be punished. I'll let this first one go, because you had not
yet been warned, but now you know. Do not resist me. You want this. You need
this and you know it." My head began to reel and for the first time I was
suddenly terrified. He really meant what he was saying. What had I gotten myself
into? This was so out of character for him, he had always been so polite, so
kind.
I began to panic. And in my panic I started trying to twist away from him. His
grip on my hair remained firm and I lashed out at him, trying to knock him off
balance long enough to get him to let go of my hair. His free hand struggled to
grab my arm, as I managed to get my hair free. I evaded his grasp and shot
toward the door. I wasn't even half way there before he caught me and had my
arms twisted behind my back painfully. I screamed and kicked despite the pain as
he dragged me up the stairs and down a hall.
"You little bitch," he growled into my ear as he dragged me along, " I was
trying to make things easy on you, take it slow, but you had to fight me. You
had to struggle. Now I realize the easy way isn't what you need. A little whore
like you needs to be taught a little discipline right off the bat." I was
crying now and had gone limp. His grip was too tight and he was so much stronger
than me I knew I wouldn't get away. He was carrying my entire weight as he
pulled me into a room and kicked the door shut behind him. He threw me on my
back onto a bed and I lay there petrified as he walked over to a night stand and
pulled something out of the drawer. He approached me, holding up a pair of
leather cuffs. I tried to scramble away from him, but he was too fast. In an
instant he was on me, forcing me down underneath him. He climbed up so that he
was straddling me across the ribs, my arms pinned beneath his legs. I kicked and
screamed but it was no use. He pulled one of my arms free and secured it into
one of the cuffs, then tucked it back under his leg and readjusted his weight to
ensure I'd remain pinned. Then he did the same to the other arm. I was screaming
this entire time and thrashing around enough that I was making this task
frustrating but not really difficult for him.
"Elise," he said patiently and quietly, but I continued to scream and strain
against him. Then his palm cracked against the side of my face in a stinging
slap, "Elise be quiet," he said in the same patient tone. But I was enraged.
"You fucking bastard! Let me go, you asshole, I don't want this, just let me
go!" He slapped me again, harder this time and again, and again until finally my
screams dissolved into quiet sobs, and I stopped struggling, hoping he'd see my
despair and stop, maybe realize how serious I was and let me go.
"That's better, Elise. I don't want to have to gag you. I want to be able to
hear your pleading while I punish you. But if you insist on being hysterical
like that I'll have no choice. So be good, and this will all be much easier on
you." With that he stood up and pulled me with him. He had ahold of my cuffed
wrists behind my back and led me over to a corner of the room. I looked up and
gasped. There were chains hanging from a support beam. He forced my arms up over
my head and began to clip the D-rings from the cuffs to the clasps on the ends
of the chains. He was almost lifting me off the ground to do it, and when he
released me and stood back, I was dangling with only the tips of my toes making
contact with the floor. I moaned, realizing my helplessness and let my head
slump forward onto my chest.
My cheeks burned where he'd slapped me, and my head was reeling as I tried to
shake off the high from the pot we'd smoked so I could really assess my
situation. I could hear him walking around the room, opening drawers, moving
things around, but I couldn't make myself raise my head to watch him.
Then he was standing in front of me again, and he took my chin in his hand and
raised my face. I kept my eyes down, too scared to look directly at him, unsure
of what he would do next.
"Elise, look at me," he said in that same quiet patient voice. I slowly raised
my eyes to his, trying to hold back my tears. "Elise, I'm going to hurt you, and
I know you can't help but be scared. In fact I want you to be scared. But try to
relax. It'll be easier on you if you just listen to me and do what I say. I
promise." Still holding my face in his hand, his other hand began wandering my
body. He cupped my breasts and squeezed my nipples, murmuring quietly that I was
beautiful and that he was going to enjoy this. I tried to squirm away from him,
but I was too far up on my toes for my legs to be of any real help, and I could
only manage to swing a couple of inches in any direction, not enough to make a
difference to his intruding hand.
Then he let go of my face and reaching down began to unbutton my jeans. I
suppressed the urge to start kicking, feeling my helplessness and knowing I
would only make things worse. He got my jeans unzipped and then yanked them down
to my knees. His hands wandered up my thighs slowly, and reached around, cupping
my butt cheeks, rubbing them. Then he yanked down my panties and plunged a
finger inside of me. I gasped and clinched all of my muscles, trying to shut him
out, but it was useless.
"Look how wet you are, you little slut," he held up a finger, glistening with my
juices, then he slowly brought the finger to his mouth and tasted it, "You see
Elise, even in your fear and struggles, your body knows this is what you want."
Then he removed my sneakers and proceeded to pull my jeans and panties all the
way off of me. He stood back and gazed at me for a moment, smiling, then he
produced a pair of scissors and cut away my shirt and bra. The fabric fell away
from me and I could feel my nipples hardening in the cool air. I was still high
and it was heightening my awareness of every little sensation my body was
feeling. The breeze against my pussy creating tingles that trailed up my stomach
and down my thighs, my chest rising and falling with my breath, the throbbing
ache in my arms. Then to my horror, he took off his belt and moved behind me. I
strained to hear what he was doing. Would he strip and rape me? Would he beat
me? He had said he would hurt me and I terrified to find out what exactly that
meant.
Then I felt the belt come down across my back and I screamed. It stung like mad,
and I began to struggle again, though it did nothing to stop the belt from
coming down again. It struck me over and over. At first I tried to count how
many times, but I soon lost count and my head was swimming amid my screams and
the hot stinging that was quickly covering my back and my ass and my upper
thighs. He was excruciatingly thorough in covering every inch of my back with
marks, and it seemed hours before the belt finally stopped. Then he moved back
in front of me. My head was slumped to my chest, tears streaming down my face.
"Please," I began to beg, "Brad, please, stop this. I'll stay and do what you
want, I won't tell anyone, just please stop hurting me, please."
He smiled, almost regretfully. Then he shook his head. "I don't think you really
mean it yet, Elise." Then he walked to the dresser and came back holding up two
clothespins. He quickly clamped one onto my right nipple, and my entire body
seized with the pain. I could hear myself scream, but it seemed so far away, all
I knew in that moment was the sharp pain radiating from my nipple and exploding
in my head. Then he clamped my other nipple, I shook and moaned as my body
slowly began to adjust to the throbbing pain.
I was sobbing and pleading with him to stop, but he ignored me and again walked
to the dresser and came back with a knife. I began to scream louder than ever,
and he clamped a hand over my mouth and pressed the knife into my throat,
growling at me to shut the fuck up. But I couldn't stop screaming, I was
consumed with fear, I kept my eyes on the knife, wondering if he planned to kill
me. He reached down and grabbed my panties and shoved them in my mouth, then
turning, he grabbed a role of duct tape and taped my mouth before I could push
the panties out with my tongue. I continued to scream, but now it just came out
as muffled moans. Soon I quieted down, but he came back with the knife, his eyes
piercing me as he looked me up and down.
"What do you think, Elise, do you think I should cut you?" he asked, running the
tip of the knife up my stomach and across my collar bone. "How would you like
this pretty soft skin marked up by a knife? Would that make you wet, you little
cunt?" I moaned and shook my head, but he just smiled and pressed the tip of the
knife in hard just above my left breast, breaking the skin. I shrieked through
my gag and looked down to see blood beading up at the cut and then dripping down
my breast. He traced the drips of blood with the tip of the knife, pressing just
hard enough to scratch me but not cut me. I was shaking with fear. Again he
pressed the knife in along my ribs, and I could feel it cutting, feel him
pulling the blade along, slicing into my skin. I closed my eyes and forced
myself not to move for fear of being cut worse. Then he put the knife down. He
bent his head and began licking the blood off of me.
He looked up at me softly. I was hanging there exhausted, thankful that he'd put
the knife down, sobbing quietly. He leaned up and kissed my face, licked at my
tears. I felt my body soften and relax as I watched him. I realized I felt that
familiar heat of desire welling up again. His suddenly gentle manner with me
took me off guard. Against my own will I wanted to slump against him, to feel
his arms support my weight.
Silently he removed the clothes pins from my nipples and I gasped, realizing I'd
forgotten about them in my fear. Then he put one arm around my waist, and with
the other, he unclasped me from the chains that were holding me up. I fell limp
and he carried me to the bed. The blanket was rough against my fresh and tender
welts, but I didn't care. He was being so gentle now, and I was grateful for any
sign that he wouldn't hurt me anymore. He pushed my knees to my chest and I
inhaled sharply as I felt his mouth close over my pussy. Desire welled in me as
his tongue explored me, diving in to my moist opening and then circling my clit.
My hips began to rock involuntarily and I felt lost. I tried to tell myself
that I shouldn't be feeling this pleasure, not with this maniac that had just
held a knife to me and beat me with a belt. But the memory of the pain only
increased the pleasure I was feeling.
After a few minutes he lifted himself off of me and began to quickly undress.
His cock was rock hard and I knew what would come next, and I was resigned to
let him do whatever he wanted, anything to keep him happy with me so that he
wouldn't punish me again. He grabbed my legs and flipped me over onto my hands
and knees. With one hand on my back, he thrust his cock into me with a moan, and
I couldn't stop myself from leaning back to meet his thrust.
"Fuck, Elise, you feel so goddamned good." He moaned as he began sliding in and
out slowly. Then he reached under me with one hand and pinched my already sore
and abused nipple. Pain streaked from my nipple down to my pussy and then
enflamed me with heat, the pain turning quickly to something else. I moaned and
thrust back to meet him again and again.
"You need this Elise," he said as he grabbed a handful of my hair and began to
quicken his pace, "you need this more than you know, you need me to show you
what you are, you need to be owned, you need to be controlled, you need to
submit, it's in you, I see it, you know it, just let go for me, Elise."
He let go of my hair and pressing me down onto my stomach, he wrapped his arm
around the front of my throat. I could still breath, but just barely, I felt
myself get a lightheaded as he continued to fuck me, harder and harder, choking
me with his arm. His other hand moved up and down my body, pinching and
scratching and pulling as he thrust himself into me.
"Let go," he moaned and sunk his teeth into my shoulder, "let go to me, Elise,"
I was gasping and struggling to breath through the gag, his hand wandering my
body, the pinches and scratches no longer hurting, just enflaming me, rising me
closer and closer to the orgasm I knew I would soon have.
"Your mine now, cunt," he whispered in my ear, "you need me now that I've shown
you what you are. You're my slut. You're mine. You need this. Just let go."
As I listened to him, I felt a stirring in me, something waking up with the
words he was saying and the pain pleasure he was producing in me. His arm left
my throat, and he ripped the tape from my mouth, pulling the soggy panties out.
I gasped for air and both of his hands reached under me, grabbing hold of my
nipples and twisting them fiercely. He began to pump into me wildly and
violently, pulling at my nipples, talking the entire time.
"Let go Elise"....let go..the sensations in me heightened, his words bringing me
to the beginning of realization... "submit, you little whore, you need
this"....I need this..I need... "you need this, you know you need this, and I
need this, I need you to feel this for me, I need you to let go, I need to own
you right now" ...let go, my body begins to tense, I can feel the pleasure
mounting, his voice pushing me on... "LET GO". With a final hard thrust I came
violently, yelling out, "oh GOD, I do need this, I need this, I do.." and he
came with a moan and a shudder. I could feel his cock twitching as we moved
together, he bit my shoulder, my neck, twisted my nipples one last time, and
then collapsed on top of me, both of us shaking and breathing heavily.
I knew then that he was right about me. I did need this. I'd found the one that
was strong enough to conquer me. Finally.
He rolled off of me and took me up in his arms, looking me over, kissing my
face.
"You're mine now, totally," he said, and I nodded, knowing he was right, and
feeling grateful that he'd had the courage to show me.
