Revenge

It's Saturday night, and unsurprisingly, you're alone in your flat. Your roommate has gone out on the pull, and left you with your computer, some cigars and a supply of beer. All is quiet, except for the quiet clicking noises your mouse makes as you browse through a collection of Japanese porn, and the odd heavy breath as you exhale cigar smoke. You don't even hear me open the door.

You do, however, notice when I clamp a cold hand over your mouth, and press a blade to your throat. Your eyes widen and your breathing rate triples, then you realise who it is.

'Miss me? You never came back, I thought I'd pay you a visit instead.'

I look around the place, and note the piles of assorted trash, the tatty armchair and sofa, a mattress shoved into the corner, the same mattress. My mind goes blank as images flash behind my eyes, the back of a van, you, a camera. I let you and the blade go and stride across the tiny room, reaching the bathroom in a couple of steps. And there they are, my face duplicated countless times, my naked body, clothes in tatters. That time, my pain, transformed into wallpaper. I catch sight of my real face in a grimy mirror, and my eyes flash dangerously. Turning on my heel, I notice you standing, almost apologetically, in the doorway. Struggling to keep my voice even, I ask you the question playing on my mind.

'How many times?'

You mumble something and inspect the floor.

'How many times, damnit! How many fucking times have you sat in here and wanked over this, this...atrocity?'

I gesticulate wildly in the direction of the photos. You at least have the grace to look ashamed, but this doesn't placate me. I want a fight, and I'm damn well going to have one.

I march around the room, ripping the pictures off the walls. As well as the horror and anger of seeing myself displayed so fully for all to see, I find it somewhat exciting, and my blood boils. You just stand there, head hanging. My anger deepens, why can't you at least act like a man? Shout, yell, throw stuff around, so I can fight you. I can't take this any more.

'YOU SICK FUCK!' I scream, and throw myself at you, hitting and kicking whatever I come into contact with. Finally, you respond. With a strength neither of us knew you had, you push me back against the wall and hold me there. Chest heaving, I glare at you, my eyes glinting like daggers behind my glasses. Then you lean forwards and kiss me, pinning me to the wall with your weight.

The lip contact shocks me into action, I push you off of me, and stand over you, one foot on your chest.

'You're going to pay for this, you understand?' I hiss. You nod, it seems the fight has gone from you.

'Get over there', I point at the mattress in the corner of the main room. You do so, not as reluctantly as I would like, but obedience is a start. I order you to take your clothes off. You look a little pathetic, stripped of your masculine clothes, but your painfully hard cock lets me know that you're not.

Kneeling by your side, I produce a length of heavy-duty twine, and tie your hands together above your head.

'let's see how long it takes you to beg for forgiveness when you can look, but not touch', I murmur in your ear, before removing my own outer clothes, revealing a black lacy bra and panties. You exhale sharply, and your cock twitches. But you are powerless, I am free to do whatever I like to you.

I reach up behind me and release my hair from its tight ponytail, letting it fall over my shoulders in loose waves. Then starting at your head, I work my way downwards, brushing your body with the ends of my hair, making you jump. I skip the area around your cock and carry on down to your toes, and back up your inner thighs. Crawling between your legs, I stop inches away from your throbbing cock and exhale a stream of hot air onto you. You make some sort of muffled moan, and in a second I am by your head.

'What was that? You want me to forgive you? I can't hear you.'

Your narrow your eyes and shake your head.

'Oh, it's like that is it? Well, we can both play that game'. I sneer at you and return to my position between your legs. Suddenly I lean forwards over you, taking you into my mouth, and sucking forcefully. I feel you shudder and tense up under me, and I know it won't take long. Circling the head of your cock with lazy circles of my tongue, I bring a hand up to knead and squeeze your testicles gently, making you squirm. And then, as quickly as I started, I stop.

This time you definitely whine. I work my way up to your head, pausing to bite your nipples, to see if you're ready to give in yet. Again, you resist. But your resolve is weakening, you want to fuck me. And you'll do anything to be able to do that.

I discard the rest of my clothes, and straddle you. My bare breasts touch your chest, and I move so they just brush your skin, working my way backwards until I feel your cock pressed up against my back. Then I swivel on the spot, and lean over to wrap your cock in my breasts. You see my cunt, warm and pink and inviting, and give in, begging me to let you fuck me.

I let you beg for a second, and then I release your hands. In seconds they are all over my body, you're grabbing and squeezing all you can, in a frenzied mania. Your lips touch every inch of my quivering body, igniting me. You flip me over so I am on my back, and hover over me.

Now it's my turn to beg. I look you in the eyes and say the words.

'Fuck me, Mark. Please.'

You thrust into me so hard that I nearly come there and then, and I try not to cry out loud. Your pace is fast, and hard, pinning me to the mattress. I struggle to breathe as waves of pleasure roll over me, and our breathing becomes the same as we both orgasm simultaneously, heat rolling off us. When I stop shaking, I collect my clothes, get dressed and go, leaving you to clean yourself up.