My First Time

His laugh was caustic and directed at my embarrassing in-experience. As his hand brushed higher on my inner thigh, I sunk lower into the plush leather of his passenger seat. "A virgin?" he said beneath his breath as his inquiring digits pressed into my untouched hole as if checking to lend validity to the fact that nothing had ever entered. I squirmed beneath the uncomfortable pressure of the protruding digits and brought forth a laugh from him again. "Well, I suppose you are the first virgin slut I've encountered. We'll just have to fix that, won't we?"

I shook my head. Dark locks, preciously manicured for perfection, obscured my vision. His hand was still between my legs, pushing up the silk crepe of my newly bought red dress into a dimple at my woman hood. As I spoke, my voice quivered. "I always thought.. Thought I'd wait until marriage." He laughed.

I'd met him just a week ago on a night out with my friends. A fresh new fake ID ensured that I could gain access to whatever club and whatever alcohol I wanted despite my three year shortfall from 21. He was sweet, and bought my drinks. He wined and dined me from the first night, all thirty-five years of him. We had exchanged telephone numbers, and for the entirety of a week he was silent and out of my mind. Unexpectedly, last night he called and invited me for dinner at his place. I graciously accepted.

I had spent all day getting ready. I borrowed the most ideal dress from a close friend, it was red silk crepe that fell asymmetrically from my upper thigh to my knee. It was low cut at the top with only thin straps holding it, exposing my modest cleavage and a small show of nipples since I did not wear anything beneath it. The red brought out the best of my naturally bronzed skin color and the dark mahogany of my hair that fell to the middle of my delicate back.

Silence fell over the car for the last of the remaining journey as my modest hand protested against his intrusion of my unhampered parts, pushing it back. The quiet was terse and awkward as we pulled up the majestic drive of his home. He made no more mention of the conversation as he served me a glass of red wine and dinner. But as I was about to sit, he pressed his body close in behind me.

His hands dominated my form, sliding from behind around my center and then up to my ample bosom. I could feel the roughness of his unshaved chin as it brushed against my neck, his lips leaving a trail of wetness on the skin. The dress, delicate, rose and fell with the whims of his hands. His hands were rough, callused, and large. I knew he could wrap the both around my waist, he was so much larger than I. They dove beneath the soft fabric of my dress and unsheathed my breast from the dress. Instantly, from the chill of the air and the steady, but foreign excitement, my nipple was a hard nub. His breath was hot on my skin as he laughed. "See, little slut, you like what I'm doing. You're excited."

I shook my head and tried to move back, but his hands pressed me into his overpowering body. Admittedly, a strange pulsing between my legs, unlike anything I had ever felt, began. I wiggled trying to prevent it. His large fingers enclosed around one of my nipples, rubbing it back and forth and then squeezing with such pressure that I gasped and cried out. He continued to squeeze, but one arm closed around my neck as he whispered into my ear, "Listen, whore. I'm going to fuck that pussy. You can make this easy and nice for yourself, and play along.. Or I'll do it by force. Either way.. " He didn't need to finish the sentence- his hand that had been torturing my nipple descended to grab hold of my mound.

He spun me around and pushed me into the next room. The room was afire with lights. In the center was a large four-poster bed, a king size. Attached to each of the posts was a hand cuff at the end of the long chain. Tears fell down my cheek as I pleaded with him. "Please. I'll do anything else." He just grinned and laughed, pushing me onto the bed. With his obviously superior strength, it was not long until he hand my hands chained down. The cold metal pressed tightly against my tender flesh, bruising it as I thrashed. But I still immediately as I saw the silver glint of a knife. With a confident, swift slice he unrobed me.

He stood before me taking in my naked flesh. Nipples erect, moist feminine mound never touched. And then- as if I displeased him he turned and left. It seemed as if he was tired of the game and had abandoned me until many minutes later he returned with what I can only assume, due to my panic I was not fully aware, was a riding crop and a pouch of equipment. From the pouch he pulled out two mental clamps that looked as if they were cloths pins. He secured one around my nipple, and then with a jerk let it clasp. I howled with pain, and just as I settled he set a similar pin on my other nipple. He drew his hand back and slapped m across the cheek, "Shut up, you little slut. You like it. Just wait until I fuck your worthless hole."

It was then that he picked up the riding crop. He brought it with a audible snap across my abdomen, breasts, and thighs. Then, as if to accentuate the pain, he spread my legs and lips of my mound and brought the riding crop down upon the most tender of flesh. It was after this last torture that I stopped my struggle and acquiesced to the notion that he would be the first to fill my empty hole.

He undid the handcuffs, and turned me over so that my face and belly were to the bed. He then grabbed my by the waist and pulled backwards, so that I was on my knees, my naked buttocks facing into the air. He worked hi way with the riding crop leaving aching red and whit welts with every stroke. Finally, he was satisfied. I heard the familiar sound of a zipper, and then felt the pressure.

His one hand reached down and grabbed the mop of my once perfect hair. He yanked it back, "Are you ready, slut?" As he said this, he thrust inwards into my hole. I screamed with displeasure as I felt my tiny hole stretch to accommodate his large package. He paused mid-thrust, letting me fully appreciate the stretching sensation before he broke through the last boundary. Finally, he thrust unencumbered into my hole as I whimpered, shook, and cried. One hand gripped my hip, thrusting me back into him as the other released my hair in order to rain down with horrible slaps on my tight buttocks. I became dizzy with pain, and drew out of myself. It was as if I watched a gross pornography movie where an unknown man was doing this to an unknown woman. Finally, he finished unloading his sperm deep within my bleeding hole. As he pulled out, he rolled me over and yanked me up by my shoulders. He kneeled before me.

"Suck it clean, slut." I looked, wide eyed, at the mixture of pussy juices, blood, and sperm on his still pulsing cock. I shook my head. I did not even see the slap coming, but it hit so hard that it knocked me back. He dragged me up by my hair again, and forced the limp cock into my mouth. I sucked it clean of every last bit until he was satisfied. When he was, he pushed me back and re-handcuffed me, left and turned out the lights.

He was gracious to do so to me, though I did not see it at the time. I love Him, and continue to serve Him today, when I do not need a fake I.D.