Lost Virginity

I was so excited that I was going to see him again. I thought all week about what to wear. Maybe he will take me out for a ride in his car. That Sunday morning, I was up and dressed and ready for him. I went with a cute mini skirt and a halter top. I even put on my high-heeled wedge shoes. I spent hours on my hair.

Like clockwork, after my family left for church, he was at my door. Just like before, he rushed in and kissed me. He told me how much he had missed me and that I was all he could think of. He said he loved what I was wearing and that I looked beautiful. I soaked it all in. Nobody had ever said anything like that to me before.

He kissed and hugged me. It felt wonderful to be back in his arms. All the doubts I had since we last met just melted away.

It was obvious that Mark wanted to have sex right away. I resisted and built up the courage to ask Mark to take me out for the day. I so desperately wanted to go for a ride in his car. I wanted to spend time with my boyfriend.

Mark just snapped.

"I'm not interested in going for a drive. I've been thinking about you all week and I want you now. "

I was shocked and didn't know what to say. No one had ever spoken to me like that before.

"Now go stand by the front window and dance for me... strip for me," he ordered.

"What... you serious?" I was stunned.

"Now, you fucking slut, NOW, or I'm leaving. "

I was shocked; He called me a slut? I didn't want to lose him. I finally had a boyfriend, and I wanted to keep him, so I quietly obeyed.

I slowly began dancing, swaying my hips to some imaginary tune as he sat on the couch and watched. I purposely kept my distance from the front window, as it was Sunday morning and anyone could be watching.

After a few minutes, he ordered me to slowly untie my halter-top and let it fall off. I was hesitant, but I played along, and off it came.

He sat there and watched as I reluctantly stripped for him. Once I was naked he grabbed me and pushed me over a chair that was in front of the window. I was terrified of being seen, but he didn't care. He told me to shut the fuck up and bent me over the chair and proceeded to take me from behind. He began calling me all sorts of nasty names as he fucked me. I was horrified but complied.

He was rough and aggressive. There was no mistaking who was in control and what my role was. From that day forward, I was his slut. I was not allowed to question him or refuse him. He told me that he owned me, that I was his property, and he would do as he pleased with me.

I was scared at first, but I slowly accepted my role. I had never had a boyfriend, so the idea of being owned by Mark wasn't that bad. At least he cared for me, I thought. He was still my boyfriend.

Over the next several months, Mark continued to visit me three or four times a month on Sundays. He rarely called me. I stopped questioning him because he would always get upset with me when I did. I didn't want to lose him. I loved him dearly.

He used his age and experience to control me. I was insecure, weak, naive, lacked confidence, you name it. This was all new to me, and I had no one to ask or guide me. Sexually, Mark did everything imaginable to me. He blindfolded me, tied me up, spanked me, fucked me in every hole, and degraded me. I submitted to his every whim because that was what he expected of me as his girlfriend. Looking back, I was his sexual plaything, his sex toy.

One day at the mall, I ran into a lady from the office that I had worked with during that summer. She asked me if I remembered Mark. I didn't let on that he was my boyfriend, recalling that Mark told me not to tell anyone. I said I did remember him. Then she told me he had just become a father.

"What!" My surprise was obvious.

"Yes, he's been married for a couple of years now, didn't you know?"

I was shocked. I mumbled something and walked away. I went home and cried and cried. I didn't want to believe it. Maybe she was talking about another Mark?

The next time he called, I confronted him. He came clean; it was like he didn't even care. I was heartbroken. It was all a big lie. He was never my boyfriend. I didn't hear from him for about three weeks until he showed up again at the house on a Sunday morning. I was furious with him, but he didn't care. I said there was nothing to talk about. He agreed and said he didn't come to talk, he came for the sex. And just like all the other times before, he just took me. I made a feeble attempt at resisting, but the truth was that I wanted him just as much as he wanted me. He had a mental control over me, and I was hooked on him. He had his way with me for the next two hours.

Even after all the lies, I still somehow felt like it was my fault, that maybe I did something to deserve this. Mark continued to come over to the house for the next couple of months. At this point, I knew it was all about the sex for both of us, but I still held out some hope that maybe he would leave his wife for me. I was young and dumb. I was desperate for a boyfriend. I needed someone in my life. I was barely eighteen and having sex with a married man ten years my elder.

Eventually, Mark just stopped coming around, and I never heard from him again.

It took me a long time to get over Mark.

Mark had groomed me into becoming his fuck toy, a submissive slut for his pleasure. For the longest time after Mark, this is what I believed relationships were like. I didn't know anything different. I thought my role as a girlfriend was to sexually satisfy my partner and submit to them. This set the stage for numerous abusive relationships.