Ruby Lin is 38, actress and singer from Tiwan is in LA, she is showing me round the house, I'm the first visitor she'd had since she moved here, she had met me once in Singapore four years ago and whom she had run into in the street purely coincidently five days earlier. We had discussed having her direct a film, but our discussions went no where. We had lost contact in the four years which had followed, so she had been excited to see me so accidentally and we had exchanged numbers. I called her, just to catch up.
She invited me over for coffee and to see her new house. She tried to kiss me. The coffee has become a bottle of wine, which has then become two, and she knew she'd had too much and is making a foolish decision, that is why she is the one to break off the kiss suddenly.
We had rounded a corner near the stairs and she found herself standing close, feeling a bit tipsy. She followed her instincts leaning forward kissing me.
She is single, she is lonely and she barely knows me, she thought she had interpreted my signals as our flirting has increased over the two bottles of wine. Yet the fact we had drunk so much is what made her pull back in the end. She is a sensible type, not a risk taker and not prone to impulsive actions. Her judgement is impaired, she told herself. She is drunk. Maybe what she has taken as flirtation has been nothing more than innocent conversation. She becomes afraid, suddenly, of making a fool of herself and pulling back from the kiss.
" I'm. I'm sorry," she whispers, realizing then she had made a fool of herself. I said nothing and so she sought to escape, quickly turning, trying to move away, back up the stairs. I grab her. Hard, fast, she is unable to comprehend at first, for it all moved too fast. I grab her around the arm shoving her hard up against the wall it hurt where my fingers gripped and dug into her, it hurt as her head has hit the wall behind her, as I push her roughly holding her there with the weight of my body.
It did not matter if it hurt, for my lips are on her own again, this time the kiss is hard and forceful. My tongue is in her mouth as my body presses against her own and my hands are at her breasts, and her waist, gripping the skin beneath her shirt.
She is helpless to fight against me, because I'm physically stronger than her, but because she has lost all will to fight in the face of my determined lust.
She tries to struggle briefly, ineffectually, as her wits has returned and that sensible part of her brain told her this is wrong and I shouldn't be allowed to do this. She tries to pull her face away from me, tries to push me from her, but my teeth clench and anger flares in my eyes as I grip her shoulders with brutal force as I push her against the wall again, this time with more strength. She sees stars as her head hits hard against the wall behind her, her stunned groan unwitting, I give her no time to recover, reaching up with one hand to entwine it in her long hair at the back of her head pulling down hard.
She whimpers with the sudden pain, but cannot get out any further sound, my lips are on her own again as my tongue is back in her mouth as she stops trying to struggle for fear of what I will do instead she kissed me back.
She is gasping for breath as I pull my face away from her and she takes advantage of the pause to draw air deeply into her lungs, her eyes lock onto my face with fear. She sees a cruel amusement in my expression, condescending disdain, as if I had always known she would respond to harsh treatment, as if I had expected nothing less.
My free hand, the one not holding her by the hair at the back of her head, roughly grabs her breast, she utters a low moan of surprised pain.
My eyes flare with satisfaction, pleased to hear her cries. She stares up at me, I'm pushing my body hard against hers and she is pinned against the wall, my hand groping her breast, the other painfully pulling her head back by her hair, she knows then she truly fears me. Fearing me and desiring me also, desperately, overwhelmingly aroused. I grab her wrist as I step away from her, not saying a word, pulling her suddenly, sharply forward, she stumbles and has to use her free hand to grab onto me to steady herself.
I give her no time to regain her balance, pushing open the door from the hallway she had indicated earlier was the bedroom shoving her roughly inside. She fought to stand still when she recovered managing a moment to breath, before I'm with her again, having entered behind her, grabbing her by both arms shoving her forward, this time onto the bed.
She fell forward, half on her stomach, half on her side, quickly scrambling to turn over before I'm top of her, she knows by now I won't wait to see if she is comfortable or if she is unhurt. Her pain means nothing, I'm not interested. I need satisfy my own lust and I will use her to do so and if it hurts her or if it pleasures her is irrelevant and she is more afraid of how quickly she has accepted that. I'm on her before she has managed to turn completely over, which means I grabbed her shoulder roughly pulling her back round to where I want her, then my lips come down on hers again as my hands move down to grip her skirt pulling it up.
She knows what I'm doing and she is helpless to say whether she wants it or not, for I'm not giving her a choice. I pull her skirt up pushing my hand beneath it, finding her panties yanking them down, then shoving my hand against her pussy all of a sudden, forcing three fingers up inside of her. She cries out, though her sounds muffled by my mouth on hers, as I roughly jabbed three fingers into her.
It hurt because it is rough and sudden, it would have hurt more if she wasn't so wet. She is dripping, far more than normal for her, she is well lubricated and ready for me and it both surprises and shames her, that she responds to my rough treatment of her.
I pull my fingers out most of the way then shove them in hard again, hurting her causing her back to arch and unwittingly tilting her face away from me as she did so. I let her, my smile evil as I watch her whimper beneath my touch, she thought about begging me to be more gentle with her, except she is too afraid I would only use that as a reason to hurt her more.
Afraid, also, she secretly didn't want it like this to begin with, unable now to trust herself. I thrust my hand into her three, four, five more times, each time harder than the last, using powerful strength until she is crying out helplessly with each thrust, before I pull out again. All of a sudden she finds my fingers, sticky and smelling of her, at her bruised lips and pushing inside her mouth. She tries to turn away, gagging hard, she did not like this, did not like to taste herself, but I would not let her grabbing her hair again with my other hand turning her head as I wanted it making her lick my fingers clean of her own juices.
I'm grinning nastily as I did so, no doubt seeing that her eyes are glassy with tears from fear and pain, but knowing she is not fighting me, rather she is only responding more to each new moment. Then I push myself back off her. If she has ever been going to stop this, if she has ever been going to fight, now is the time. This is when she can get herself away from me. This moment alone she will have to be free. She did not move, as I push myself back to stand at the side of the bed where she lay.
She continues to lay there, looking up at me fearfully and clutching the blankets beneath her with anxious hands as I lean over grabbing her panties, which are around her thighs, yanking them down. I pull them off of her, she lifted her buttocks to make it easier for me, not kicking out with her legs so I remove them quickly. She feels shame, she is letting me do this to her, but she can not help it, she cannot help herself, she found herself left entirely uncovered and exposed to my view.
She tries to push her skirt back down to hide her pussy, I have already gone too far for her to suddenly become coy now. I slap her hands away and she knows not to try again as I push her skirt back up leaving her open and exposed again, her juices evident on her thighs, staining the sheets beneath her.
She turns her head, not wanting to meet my eyes, her cheeks flaming red with embarrassment and shame, I laugh and as she hears the zipper of my pants open, she cannot help but look back, drawn by curosity, unable to stop. After the zipper, I undid my belt buckle, then my jeans, dropping my pants to the floor. I force her legs apart with my knees, she is afraid now, afraid of me and her response to me, twisting slightly before I move between her legs.
The snarl on my face is angry as my weight shifts to my hands. I spread her legs wider, she did not fight me, she feels me between her legs, the long thick hard cock brushing against her inner thigh, ready to take her, whether she likes it or not.
I grab my cock rubbing it up and down her pussy lips coating it with her juices, then I shove into her hard. All the way, so long, so thick, larger than any partner she'd previously had, the few that there were, and seeming to tear her open with the brutal suddenness of it.
She cries out, unintelligible words, she isn't sure if she is trying to beg me to go slow, to have mercy on her, or if she is trying to tell me she wanted it harder. What she wanted makes no difference, I'm taking out my lust and desires on her regardless, I pull back then shove into her again and she thought my fingers had been rough, she thought they had hurt, then it is nothing compared to my cock.
I thrust in and out all the way with strokes deliberately designed to hurt and she finds herself pushing back against me, willingly raising her hips to meet me. She orgasms immediately on my entry into her, which shocked her.
She never climaxed via penetration, vaginal orgasm did not exist in her experience, she needed to stimulate her clitoris to get anywhere close and even then the few partners she'd had over the years hadn't been able to satisfy her.
She'd grown accustom to knowing she'd have to do it herself, which was fine, she guessed, that was just the way she worked. Now, as I slam hard, deep, and so rough inside of her, she feels her orgasm building suddenly, the familiar sensation, and it took two or three hard thrusts to bring her to climax. She tries to hide it, clutching at the sheets beneath her and biting her lip, I did not slow and did not hesitate, I continue to drive myself in and out of her until all of a sudden she can hold it back no longer.
Muscles spasming, body tightening, the groans she has tried to hide escaping for the first time, she came from the penetration of my cock inside of her. That moment is a release in more than one way for her.
I did not pause once she had cum, although it hurt more now, she did not try to stop, instead continuing to push her hips back against me as I dictated our speeds and movements.
Following my lead as I purely did what is pleasing to me, she merely tried to do what she can to enhance my pleasure, as if that is all that mattered, and so right at the moment it is. She did not try to hide the soft cries she made with each hard, painful thrust inside her.
She feels as if she can hide nothing from me now, so she let me see the complete affect I'm having on her, or at least, she stopped trying to pretend I couldn't see it, and just let me have my way. Her hands stopped clutching at the sheets beside her and instead now she brought them up to my waist, clutching at me, as if I were the only thing she can cling onto to save herself from drowning in this experience. Sensible thoughts flickered through her head, momentarily there, then forgotten in the sensations of me; knowing I'm not wearing a condom, knowing despite her cooperation she in effect had little choice, aware that if she had fought, had outright refused, I would have raped her anyway.
Not caring for any of it, only desperate now for me, pushing her hips towards me, clutching at my body, crying out with the pain and the pleasure of the feel of me, prepared to do anything for more of me, anything.
She wants my pleasure, she wants to feel me cum inside her, I who had made it very clear I cared little for her pleasures or pains and is concerned solely with using her for my own enjoyment. Yet she adopted this as her own goal working towards my climax, focused upon it.
If she had been brave enough to beg me now, it would not have been for mercy. She would merely have begged me for my seed, to spill my fluids inside of her, and to use her as I will. There is no warning for her second orgasm, which merged immediately into a third, and left her stunned, shocked, that she feels the tears again filling her eyes.
Just as she had never experienced orgasm from vaginal penetration before, so she had never climaxed more than once in any sexual experience. Now her body betrayed her and she finds it hard to cope, bucking beneath me as I laugh low over her, a sound of power, and control. I came myself then, as if I had waited for that moment, shoving myself deeper inside of her, she sees my muscles stiffen, the clenched jaw expression of my face and feels me inside her jettison that load of white, sticky bodily fluid she knew she should be worried about.
But she can't, she raises her hips to meet me, feeling the spasms inside her, the pumping ejaculation as I made sure she took every drop I had and not a single drop spilled. Then I took a deep breath rolling casually off her.
She continued laying there, half naked, sticky, used and abused and stunned. Her body feels exhausted, her mind is confused. She feels tears filling her eyes, she feels the dark shame now and the humiliation the worse because she has willingly participated in her own degradation.
Yet for all her exhaustions, for all her confusion and shame and humiliation, her body feels satisfied. She feels satisfied and surprisingly grateful.
After a moment, she turns her head to see me sitting on the side of the bed, leaning back on my arms watching her. She didn't know what to say, only swallowed hard waiting for me to speak first, which I did. " You're not finished yet," I told her, the first words I had spoken the entire time.
She didn't know what I meant, so though she opens her mouth to speak, to ask, she cannot find the words. " I. I don't understand." she tried quietly, not sure if she meant it in regards to what I said, or rather to the entire experience. I reach out one hand to her, after the desire is satisfied and some sense of normality has returned, she flinches away from it.
I did not let her go too far, taking hold of her shoulder and pushing her up. She shifts her weight so as to do as I indicated, sitting up beside me on the bed, then finds herself surprised when I did not stop there.
I continue to push insistently, threateningly, until she realized I wanted her down on the floor. " You're going to clean me up," I said as she stumbles a little from the bed, not sure what is going on.
" To cl. clean you.?" she stammers, not understanding, just struggling not to fall over as she complied with my insistent pushing and found herself sitting on the floor in front of me. " You heard me," I said.
" On your knees, use your tongue. Do a good job, or else I'll see you learn the proper respect the hard way, understand Ruby?" She understood now. Finding herself on her knees before me, feeling sticky and sweaty and bruised all over, her eyes drawn to that cock that had impaled her. I'm semi hard, covered liberally in her juices and my own, and it made her gag to think of licking that mixture from me. Here she is kneeling in front of me, something told her, she cannot get up and walk away now.
I'm not holding her down, I'm not grabbing her hair and forcing her head towards my cock to clean me with her tongue, I lean back on my arms waiting for her to do the job I have ordered her to do.
She continues kneeling there, unable to look elsewhere, and did not get up and walk away. Then, slowly, hesitantly, she shuffles closer to me, leaning a little bit forward and begins to use her tongue to clean the remains of our sex from my cock.
" You've never had a real man take you before, have you Ruby?" I commented lazily as she slowly cleans me. She can not answer, not with her mouth cleaning my cock, but I know that and she suspected my question is rhetorical anyway.
" Never been fucked by a man who knows what he wants and is prepared to take it. You've only had pussy-whipped little boys who don't know how to assert their masculinity. Bit of a change for you, I bet." She cannot respond, she concentrates on cleaning me, on not missing anywhere, from the insides of my thighs to my buttocks to my scrotum and penis itself. The thought of what she is tasting is dreadful to her, the smell worse, but she is afraid of what I meant when I threatened to teach her respect the hard way.
Yet it is more than that, too. Somehow, she finds herself accepting in a twisted kind of way that as I wanted her to do this, then so she is doing it. I ordered this of her and that is reason enough. She licks sweat and cum, my ejaculation and her lubricating juices and for all the smell and the taste turning her stomach, she did not stop.
I lean back now, letting my arms drop so that I lay back across her bed with my legs hanging down over the side of it, and she on her knees cleaning me while I laid back.
I'm not soft, and it had to be said that just the effort of cleaning me so has a new burning deep in the center of her, but instinctively she knew better than to think about that, or attempt to act upon it, despite her mouth being upon my cock.
I required her to clean me, not to pleasure me, and she is too afraid to do anything other than what I said. The pain she has suffered in our sex are now returning, the bruises, the aches, the pain and she knew I can be cruel. She is right to be afraid of me. " You enjoyed it, didn't you, Ruby?" I said, this time she is grateful for the fact she cannot speak, for her cheeks burned in shame, but she can only have answered yes.
" Enjoyed the experience of a real man taking you for his pleasure. It's only natural. Women exist for men's pleasure, makes sense that you get off on fulfilling my desires. You'll be begging for more soon." In any other circumstance, with any other person, in any other time, she would have grown angry or argued or even laughed at such a thing. Yet now she did not. Now she listens and she closes her eyes as she finishes licking the sex from me and tries not to cry, not because of what I'm saying, but only because she can't argue.
She had enjoyed it, enjoyed every abuse, every pain and at the end all she wanted is my pleasure. As if it were normal. As if it were right. As if it were natural.
" Finished yet, Ruby?" I mutter after a moment, sitting up and pushing her roughly away. She is glad she had all but finished, for I seem to grunt, satisfied enough, and stand. I find my clothes and putting them back on, she continues to kneel there, not facing me, still facing the bed and staring ahead of her, stunned.
She isn't sure what to do now, or what to say. The whole world seems to have shifted and she no longer understood her place in it. " I'll be back later, be ready to continue." I told her as I dressed and it sounded almost normal, if somewhat possessive. She did not answer, not as I finished dressing and left the room, leaving her kneeling there, just as she is.
She hears me walk down the hall outside then reach the stairs. Suddenly, not knowing why, she pushes herself up and runs to the door. I'm about to climb the stairs when she ran out into the hall. " Wait," she calls out, and I turn, my eyes dark as they caught her own. " What makes you think I'll let you back in through my front door? You hurt me, you used me, you've abused me physically and verbally. Why shouldn't I lock it against you?" I shrugged. " Maybe you will, but I doubt it," I replied, as if I could care less.
Then I smile, darkly, viciously. " I'm betting you'll not only have it open, but you'll be waiting to continue, hanging on my arrival." " Fuck you. You would've raped me if I'd tried to refuse, wouldn't you?" she shot back at me with a frown. That made me grin. " Yes, of course," I assured her. " You loved every fucking minute of it.
I bet no one's ever made you cum like that before. So don't threaten me with locked doors and accusations of rape. You know you'll be waiting for me later tonight. You'll be a nice little girl, meek and compliant, just as you should be, and when I tell you to get down on your knees and suck me off, you'll do that too.
Because you love it. Because you know it's your natural place in the world." I laugh then, laughed at the look on her face and the devastated fear in her eyes. " On your knees in front of a man, concerned only with pleasuring him. That's the only proper place for you," I finished, then turned and climbed her stairs, the new stairs in her new house and left her standing there, half naked and stinking of sex, covered in sweat and most of all simply reeking of me.
I'm all over her, I covered her and she knew from the damp stickiness between her legs and the dark taste in the back of her mouth that I was inside her now too. I may have been gone from her immediate presence, but I'm still inside of her and she found herself suddenly, irrationally, desperately terrified that I always will be, leaving her as unable to lock the door on me later tonight as she had been unable to refuse my lust.
Scared, suddenly, she will never be free of me. Her eyes closed where she stood. I'm inside her. Inside her body, inside her mind. In control, always in control, because I demanded it to be so and that is frightening.
Yet perhaps not quite so frightening as knowing it is also because she let me.