The Game

"Just include whatever details are most important to you, to your perspective."

"Got it." He lay back, putting his arms behind his head now as if he were a man lounging on a beach instead of spilling his guts in a shrink's office. "Yeah, Gorgeous lived up to her name. She was a white girl, she had really smooth, almost but not quite olive-toned skin... I'm not sure how to describe it, it was the kind of this coffee-cream colored skin where looking at her you just knew she'd tan beautifully if she wanted to, like she had just a touch of something darker somewhere in her family tree." He was smiling now. "In everything else... she actually had all the features of a truly fine Black woman, like she was a bold soul sister who'd been given a coat of Caucasian paint. I think her family were originally Creoles from Haiti or something. She had this big, beautiful ass – er, is it okay if I say ass?"

"Say whatever comes naturally, Dick." Naomi kept her voice neutral, but her eyes were riveted to the lump in his trousers. It was growing. Wow, that's... getting really big...

"Right, thanks. So, she was petite – like about three inches shorter than you, I'd say, just a tiny little thing – and she had this cute little snub nose and these really full, pouty lips, and her eyes were this really vivid blue like the water in the Caribbean, and her hair was really frizzy and curly if she let it grow out... which she hated and she hated straightening it even worse, that's why she kept it short, just this side of shaved, really. But it was blonde, and I don't mean bottle blonde, the carpets matched the drapes if you... well, if you know what I mean." He gave a little, not-quite-embarrassed cough and then went on: "Though she started shaving down there after we started dating... well, I'll get to that. She had pretty great tits, too, C-cups at least, but like I said it was her ass that caught so much attention. She had a really narrow waist but she had this caboose that was pretty much Kim Kardashian thick, her hip measurements must have been forty if they were an inch."

"Really." Naomi's pencil had stopped moving.

"Oh, it was something else. And Gorgeous dressed to show it off, too, and I mean extra-slutty. She actually got off on looking like a whore, and that was her word. Tiny little plaid skirts, leopard-print mini-dresses, hot pants, leather or latex mini-skirts... you name it, anything she wore would be just struggling to cover that ass." He shook his head admiringly at the memory. "Never seen anything quite like it. She didn't wear much else either – I mean, she had rings and necklaces galore and leather cuffs and more pairs of high-heeled pumps than Imelda Marcos, but other than that she liked to keep it really trashy and barely-there. She had lots of fishnet stockings, all of them deliberately ripped somewhere or other, and she had lots of thongs, I don't think I ever saw her wear any other kind of underwear. And I don't think there was a single blouse or full-length tee in her whole wardrobe, it was all tube tops and tanks and bikini tops, and that was if she wore a top at all – she had this little black leather bolero jacket, and more than a few times she'd just put some duct tape over her nipples and throw that on over top."

His hard-on was at full extension now, clearly visible through his trousers and eleven inches in length at least. Naomi bit her lip and recrossed her legs, unable to tear her eyes away from it as she said: "Please, uh, go on, Dick."

"Oh, and she had this great ink, too." Dick smiled, clearly picturing it. "Tats were really getting to be a bigger, more mainstream thing by then, and Gorgeous liked the Maori tribal patterns. Got a half-sleeve on her left arm and a pattern around her right bicep and one of those tribal 'tramp stamps' on the small of her back. And she had this little piercing in her belly button, and a butterfly tattoo around it. And like a lot of people then she had a little stud in one nostril and she had her tongue pierced, too, she kept one of those little barbells in it. Wasn't partial to those earlobe plugs, though, she loved these huge, really ghetto hoop earrings. She used to say 'the bigger the hoop, the bigger the ho,' and she was only half-joking." He sighed, then laughed a little. "Damn, I'm amazed I can remember her in this much detail."

"She was important to you." Naomi was hoping to divert him onto a less sensual train of thought, so that she wouldn't have to stare at that turgid anaconda tenting his pants. She crossed her legs again. "Wasn't she?"

"Well, yeah, but our relationship was... let's say dysfunctional." His expression grew more undreadable. "You've got to understand that in the scene we were in, the club skanks were mostly performing in the hopes of hooking a man. They'd talk a big game about being nymphos and exhibitionists and what-not, and push come to shove a lot of them would go the extra mile, but you could tell they didn't really enjoy it. Most of them obviously didn't much care for sex, or even for men, and they had to get sideways drunk just to suck a dick. Gorgeous was the first real nymphomaniac I ever met." He licked his lips. "I knew it the first time I saw her. I was in the pub on a Sunday, one of our regular watering-holes, waiting for a couple of buddies who'd said they were going to meet me for lunch. They were three hours late, and it was Gorgeous – who had just become one my friends' latest girlfriend – who wound up finding me. When she introduced herself and shook my hand, she was looking me over and there was this glint of just... total craziness in her eyes. Hunger."

"She was a sex addict?"

"Was she ever." He was not smiling fondly, now. "The thing about sex addicts is that pimps and pornographers love them, but living with them or trying to do normal, everyday things when they're around is something else again. And you never really want to date one. My friend found that out that day... which I'm not proud of, but there it is." He grimaced. "I was pissed at him for keeping me waiting, and I thought to myself well, fuck that guy. And I decided to take advantage of that look I saw in George's eyes. It wasn't half an hour after we'd all sat down with our beers that she got up to go the ladies' room and gave me this kind of meaningful look – she was also a cokehead, like our whole scene was at that time, and knew from my friend that I was a dealer – and said she was off to powder her nose. She was wearing in this little red plaid skirt that might as well have been a belt, and a white tube top and her bolero jacket, and every head in our section of the bar turned to watch her go flouncing out. She loved having that effect."

"And what did you do?"

"I waited as long as I could half-decently restrain myself... which I think was about two minutes, maybe less. Then I followed her."

"And... what happened then?"

The massive lump in his trousers twitched visibly. "I was so goddamned horny that I walked right into the women's bathroom without thinking twice, and luckily she was alone, pretending to fix her makeup in one of the mirrors. She came right out told me wanted to score some coke, and said she didn't have any cash... maybe she was even telling the truth. So I told her I'd give her a half gram for a blowjob." His eyes were far away in memory. "I barely got the words out before she was pulling me into a stall and dropping to her knees. My cock was already rock hard when she pulled it out and went to town on it... God, her technique was fucking amazing. She swirled her tongue around the head, planted little kisses all over it all the way down to the balls, then kissed her way back up and just opened her mouth and swallowed it right down to the root with the practice of a bitch who'd done a fuck ton of deepthroating... it felt incredible."

Naomi swallowed as she watched him begin to absent-mindedly rub the length of his massive tubesteak with one hand. The graphic detail of his narration made her squirm and cross her legs again as her pussy got hotter and wetter underneath her flimsy panties, but she couldn't think of a way to derail him. His deep voice and the twitching of his prodigious prick were mesmerizing, and she gradually forgot even to make the obligatory nudging interjections as he laid out the panorama of his perverted relationship with Gorgeous George for her mind's eye.

"She gave me the wettest, sloppiest, loudest suck job I'd ever had in my life to that point," he continued. "In the brief moments when she wasn't slobbering and spitting on my cock or trying to force it all the way down her throat, she was talking dirty about what a nasty little white slut she was and how she loved sucking my big black dick and wanted to swallow all my hot spunk. She was fingering herself hard while she did it, and I could remember hearing how wet she was, that slick squelching sound of her fingers fucking her cooze. I felt like I was dreaming." He shook his head wonderingly. "I remember hearing other girls starting to come into the restroom, could hear them commenting on and tittering about the loud sounds of someone getting sloppy head, but Gorgeous didn't let up. If anything, having an audience only made her talk even filthier and slobber and gurgle and swallow around my meat even louder.

"It only took a couple more minutes after that before I lost control and just grabbed her head and started fucking her throat. A couple dozen thrusts later I was pulling out and nutting all over that hot little bitch's face and tongue as she looked up at me with those crazy blue eyes and squirted out a big puddle of pussy juice all over the floor. She caught about half my load in her mouth and played with it there, swishing it around and gargling it as she used a finger to scrape as much of the jizz dripping down her chin and splattered all over her face as she could get... then she swallowed it all and said in this little-girl voice, 'Yummy. Did I suck you good, Daddy?'"

He smiled now. "From that time onward, 'Daddy' was the only name she ever called me, and my cock started getting hard again right then. So I told her she'd done just fine, but that we'd have to go out to my car to get the coke. Partly I told her that because I could hear the gathering volume of the awkward tittering and commentary from more and more girls outside, and the part of my brain that was still functioning told me that the bar would be buzzing about what was happening in the women's in the next thirty seconds, and I wasn't pissed enough at my erstwhile buddy to want to wind up in a fistfight with him. Gorgeous took no convincing at all to get out to my car, in fact I sensed it was what she'd been after all along.

"I did give her the coke there, I was as good as my word. And as we drove back to my place she did a big line of it off my dick and then sucked me off again, damn near made me crash the car but it would've been a great way to go out. Then we got there and spent the next twenty-four hours getting high and fucking like rabbits in every position we could think of and a few that neither of us had tried before. And that was the beginning. From that point on, she was my girl... at least as much as she was capable of being any one man's girl."

Naomi was so caught up that it took her a moment to realize he'd stopped talking. Finally, a question occurred to her: "I thought you said it all started with a game."

"Indeed it did." He nodded. "The game was called 'Please don't.' We started playing it about a month after we first hooked up. It was Gorgeous' favorite. The way it came about was... well..."

"When you're in a relationship with a sex addict, you pretty much have to fuck them a half-dozen times a day at least to keep them interested. The thing about having sex that frequently is that the vanilla stuff that seemed hot at the outset, that was more than enough for most normal guys and girls, starts to pall after a couple of weeks. You can get jaded and start looking for fresh thrills with amazing speed.

"So Gorgeous and I progressed pretty swiftly from fucking each other to having threesomes with random club skanks or hookers, then threesomes with buddies of mine, then foursomes, then using toys, then George just getting strap-on fucked by whores in front of me while I watched. By the end of the month we had graduated to bondage games: I was handcuffing her, tying her up with ropes, gagging her and whipping her and paddling her and letting other guys or other skanks do the same.

"That was the first hint I had of her deeply submissive streak, about her darkest fantasies. But I had no idea at first how deep it really went. You see... there's no way to say this except straight out. Gorgeous loved to fantasize about being smacked around and raped. She loved to 'pretend.' She told me one night that the first time she'd ever cum on a man's dick was one night when she was... well, she never told me her exact age but it must've been way too young, and her stepfather and his drinking buddies gang-banged her – gang-raped her, really. Looking back now, I can see how that experience had shaped her whole life. I think for her the rape fantasy was a way to try to reclaim some power from that traumatic betrayal, to pretend it was something she'd always wanted so that she could cope with the shame and the horror of it. I think her sex addiction was born of that quest, and I think – it makes me queasy to think it, but it's pretty obviously true – that that's why she liked to call me 'Daddy.' It wasn't some generic pimp-talk thing for her, I really was in her mind a surrogate for her abusive stepdad.

"I didn't think about any of that at the time, though. Mostly I just thought it was both fucking hot, and a damned nuisance.

"The thing was that Gorgeous started trying to provoke me into 'punishing' her by fucking around in ways or with people I didn't approve of, or picking fights over stupid little things, or screwing up simple household chores and generally just being lazy and impossible to be around. She would sometimes taunt and mock me just to get a reaction, and sometimes I could enthusiastically play along with the game and treat it like a role-play... but other times, when I'd get home from doing a deal with some cheapskate trust-fund frat boys and in a generally bad mood and she'd pick a fight with me about how I didn't buy free range eggs or the right brand of coffee or some other bullshit? Those times, the first and second slaps I'd give her really weren't any kind of play-acting at all. She was maddening, and frankly any time of the day when the two of us weren't either high or fucking was becoming a nightmare, but the sex was still too good. And it was about to get even better.

"The Please don't game was something that evolved all on its own. We didn't sit down and have a conversation about how this was something we wanted to try and we should use such-and-such safe-words and so on. Just one night, two in the morning really, I came in from doing my rounds and feeling exhausted and she was bugging me about how I didn't fuck her enough anymore and she was wearing the batteries on her vibrators out too fast – which, given that we were still banging the gong as much as we could humanly manage, I kind of disagreed with. So we got into a bit of a shouting match and I kind of... well, made a motion as if to slap her, and she suddenly cowered and got this wide-eyed look and said, 'Please don't hit me, Daddy.' And weirdly, she said it in exactly the little-girl voice that she'd used the first time she sucked my dick.

"It took me a second to process that she was using the phrase as code for something she wanted me to do. And then I slapped her. Not hard, mind you, just enough to make her head spin a little. I gave her a couple more pimp slaps until she was lying at my feet, dressed only in this little tube top and thong and making my cock hard by the way she was trembling and looking weirdly turned-on. And then she said in this real breathy voice, 'Hit me if you have to, Daddy... just please don't spank me. I don't think I could stand it.'

"I was well into the spirit of it now, so I dragged her into my bedroom, ripped off her little tube top and thong and turned her over my knee and walloped that beautiful ass of hers with my palm, watching it jiggle and redden as she squirmed and squealed, and my cock got even harder as I could see her pussy juicing up more and more with each smack until she sobbed out: 'It's okay if you spank me, Daddy... just please don't make me suck your dick, it would make me feel like such a whore...'"

"You can guess how it went from there. I rammed my cock down her throat until one time, when I let her up for air, she begged me not to rape her pussy; I fucked her clutching cooze while she screamed and squirted all over my dick until she begged me not to rape her ass; I pounded her ass until she begged me not to cum inside her; and as I spunked up her ass she made a big show of sobbing helplessly and begging me to be satisfied, not to beat her and fuck her anymore. I kept following her pleas-disguised -as-protests as she got more lurid about it each time around, begging me not to call her names, not to spit on her, not to make her go ass-to-mouth, not to handcuff her, not to whip her with my belt, not to write humiliating things all over her body – all of which, of course, I obligingly and eagerly did until we'd gone four separate rounds and the sun was coming up and we collapsed in exhaustion.

"That was the beginning of a whole new chapter of our sex lives. We'd finally found a sexual ritual that spoke to the deepest part of her – and yeah, I'll admit it, I got a hell of a charge out of it myself – and suddenly we didn't need all the extra partners and fancy toys any more. Not at first, anyway. The more spontaneous it felt, the better. Suddenly all our arguments were precursors to the 'please don't' game, and arguing didn't seem like such a chore. My neighbours gave us weird looks, of course, because the walls and floors were hardly sound-proof in my condo complex and to the casual ear it really authentically sounded like Gorgeous was a whore who was getting regularly beaten and raped by her pimp. And yet nobody called the cops on us... which, I guess, tells you something about the kind of outrages people will let happen all around them for fear of getting involved.

"At least, nobody called the cops on us when we kept the game to the bedroom. It wasn't long, though, before we started to seek out the thrill of doing it in public places. I 'raped' Gorgeous while we are on a walk in a public park; in a change-room in a women's wear store; in the women's showers at the gym; in a stopped elevator, and I'm willing to bet the security guys at that building are spanking it to that footage to this day; in a hot tub at a party, where one of the partygoers really did come within an ace of calling the cops but, I later learned, was talked out of it by someone who knew us. We kept pushing it further and further, and we started really exploring Gorgeous' submissiveness and what we could get away with publicly. 'Please don't' expanded to her begging me not to make her wear a butt-plug all the time, not to dress her up in see-through mesh mini-dresses and dog collars, not to finger-fuck her cunt and force her to suck my dick while we were sitting in a movie theatre... and I could see it wasn't long before she was going to beg me not to let all my friends use her too, and I was secretly looking forward to that.

"One day we were out at the pub where we'd first met. Gorgeous was dressed at her very sluttiest: she had on a black leather dog collar with the word BITCH printed on it in pink stencils, her little black bolero jacket, and a tight see-through black mish mini-dress with nothing underneath except a pink thong that – if you looked closely – didn't hide the bright pink butt-plug stuffed in her bunghole. Her ass had welts all over it from the whipping she'd begged me not to give her just before we came out, her thong was visibly soaking wet, she was sucking seductively on a pink lollipop – she kept looking at me and swirling her tongue around it – and I had a chain in the dog collar which I'd been using to lead her around for the past couple of weeks. Basically, we were obviously pushing the envelope so much that anyone could have called us out for indecent exposure and had a pretty good case. But the staff knew us there, I dealt to half of them, and they let it slide. Especially since a lot of them had realistic hopes that I was going to start sharing Gorgeous' holes around again soon.