While reading Jack's post this afternoon after work I became aroused. So wet with memories that I needed him inside me right now more than anything. Alone, I moved my hand down past the waistband of my jeans, rubbing my clit from outside my underwear before moving inside. I want him. No quick kiss on the cheek and murmurs of affection, I want his eyes blazing gold from pain and anger at that edge of control and a deep gutteral moan pulled from him as he climaxs violently inside me. I need him to growl 'I love you' in my ear and bite down on my neck hard enough that I thrash and contort myself around him to escape, all the while causing even more blissful friction and muscle contractions around his cock inside me. I need.

Alone and frustrated I masturbated in the way only done when no one's watching. No slow seductive stroking of yourself while making eye contact with your lover. I threw my head down in a pillow, unable to see, barely able to breath and furiously stroked my clit, thrusting two fingers inside me. As I bucked against my fist I thought of him hard against his jeans pinning me between his erection and the kitchen counter. Of the warm smooth taste of his cock against my tongue as I blew him in the living room. Of the way his eyes widen and partly roll back when he cums.

As I neared completion there were spots of red in my vision. Gasping for air and thighs still shuddering with the aftershocks of my orgasm I curled in bed and fell asleep.

Please allow me to introduce myself, I'm a man of wealth and taste. Well, half right, anyway.

I am Jack, and I am a dom. Not a trained, porn site, strictest definitions type dom, but your average day to day guy who just happens to have a thing for inflicting pain, both mental and physical. Now, I would be lying if this was an all the time thing, if I were to say that I don't have "normal" vanilla sex 90% of the time, but the urge is there, and the titillation it brings is constant. During "normal" sex, I like to see Kathy's eyes widen and hear her gasp. I like pushing all of myself inside, stretching the pain-pleasure barrier to its limit, and leaving her a passed out mess. There is nothing half so pleasurable as the willing loss of control; be that of my own more aggressive, animalistic side, or more simply control in general.

Hence, I am also a sub, or what is more adequately termed a switch, I suppose. You see, I'm not a control freak. I don't tie women up and inflict pain on them as a measured and controlled exercise of power. I do all of it to let loose what I keep repressed the rest of the time. So, when Kathy ties me to a tree with my own belt and blows me torturously slowly, or beats my back raw with the leather whip, or ties me down and uses me, hard, to take her own pleasure, I like that, too. I like being able to turn off the thinking parts and just let loose.

I think, in a lot of ways, what we have works as a love affair of the unstable. I'm constantly controlling my own werewolf-like inner urges, she has the potential to mercilessly kill everyone in the room on a bad day. So, together, we provide for each other, give an outlet, and let ourselves unleash the feral, brutal things we normally keep pent up. That, and we genuinely love each other, but you didn't come here to read about that.

Once, she was having a really shit day. Nothing was really making sense, and in a lot of ways the emotional dam on us both was going to burst. I knew she needed to hurt something, and she said as much. So I made her tie me to the headboard with a belt, nice and tight so the leather bit into my wrists, and take the llama hide whip to me. It's such a soft leather, the sting is exquisite--it really has snap to it. Stroke after stroke she laid into my back, letting herself lose control of the torrent she'd been holding back, and I took it, all of it. Until my back burned and my wrists stung and the tears came unbidden to my face, I took it, thanked her for it, and loved her for it.

Then she got the rope and tied me to the headboard, lying on my back. The rope is just small enough to really dig into the skin when I strain against it, just strong enough that breaking it would be real effort, and she loves to tie it nice and tight. She whiped the tears off my face, sucked me hard, and mounted me, teasing and testing me, making me strain against the bonds of the rope as she brought my anger and need out; daring me to break out and grab her ass while she rode me. And at my angriest, at my most needful to burst the rope and take what I needed, she rode down on my cock hard and fast, stroking my length across her g-spot, moaning and groaning and sweating her orgasm out on top of me, stroking me inside of her with millions of muscle contractions teasing and pulling my cum out of me, till I came, unable to hold, unable to think, and shot her full with my wrists red and raw from the tension and struggle.

I love it when she takes control like that.

The first time with him.

Some friends and I were at a local bar. Both I and "Jack" had our eyes on the same girl. Also in our friend group, vaguely slutty cute little blonde. Her hair was dyed fading blue and cut short. The selling point for me was the dog collar around her neck. The remaining five of us left after last call and stumbled into the street. I kissed one of the other men while he grabbed her, dipped her to the ground, and roughly took her mouth with his. Then it was my turn with her. Pulling her hair around my fist, I wrapped a hand around her neck while I kissed her. She rocked her body against mine at the slight pain.

Jack and I locked eyes as we traded her between us and came to an unspoken agreement. The three of us wandered back to the dormitory. In the lobby we all kissed together, faced crushed, feeling slightly ridiculous but loving being surrounded by them. Up to his room, thankful for the absence of his ROTC roommate. All kissing and touching my clothes came off faster than anticipated. All but my underwear. He lay in the single bed with her, both naked; she smothered in his neck, him smiling sardonically. And then he speaks. Just as effective as "You chicken, McFly?" he asks me if I'm going to take off my underwear. I hadn't planned on being with him. I thought we would have her separately, but the mocking challenge in his voice made me shed by peppermint striped boyshorts (my Where's Waldo underwear) and crawl into bed with them.

I had never been with a man before, unsure a little still about how this would work; how much it would hurt. I straddled him and slid down on his shaft, unable to handle his full length at first. Everything stretched pleasureably. After she fell asleep we lay awake talking, then moved over her body between us to have sex alone. I was nervous and still a little drunk as we fucked standing against the bedpost, my legs wrapped around his hips.

Then he pushed me on my back on his roommate's desk and I looped my ankles over his shoulders by instinct. God it was deep. Fully inside me we rocked against each other with compressed speed as he groped and pulled at my erect nipples. I thought the desk was going to fall apart with the force of our motion. Just as things began to be painfully intense we moved to the floor.

His eyes bright and still smiling he pounded me into the ground. My back was raw and the pain only made me move harder against his thrusts when he pulled out and came across my breasts and stomach. I had never tasted cum before so I ran my finger across my skin and sucked on it. Hot, salty, and slightly sweet; I loved it. He seemed surprised that I enjoyed it.

The other girl and I left early the next morning, I with a waffle grid scar from the carpet. There would be no call back the next day, or bashful glances. A week later he approached me again and we came to an "arrangement". No strings, no attachments, limited time span. And for that brief time we would spend all day everyday in bed together.