The intense bass line of the music pounded into her skull. She could feel it deep inside her, pulsing and pushing her blood through her veins at a rate usually reserved for other activities. She had come here because she knew she could find him there, stalking the club for his next prey.
She had first been lured here by friends, and she had come completely unsure of what she’d find. She preferred quiet evenings in her apartment to social events where she’d have to talk and meet new people. That evening she’d caught glimpses of him and every time he’d entered her line of sight, she couldn’t help but wonder what he was like.
At the time he had seemed tame enough, but she could tell there was an undercurrent of ferocity laying dormant. The lithe moves, the sharp eyes and the strong, capable hands. She was a student of male anatomy in general, and a student of male hands in particular. She had a theory that you could tell a lot about a person by the way their hands looked. His hands told her that he enjoyed his work, whatever it was, and that those hands could bring about destruction and happiness at the same time.
A couple of times she’d caught him looking at her with a curious look in his eye, but she brushed it off, not yet ready to admit to herself that she wanted something. Denial had always been her strong suit.
Her friend had given her knowing looks that whole evening, but she’d brushed them off like everything else in her life. Not now. Not yet.
Months rolled by and she almost forgot about him. Almost. Happenstance pulled her back into his world and she once again found herself in his territory. This time though, things had changed. She’d changed. She wasn’t the shaky, scared little girl she was before. Or at least that’s what she thought.
It was a cold night, but she’d picked a short skirt and very tall shoes. She knew every man in there had his eyes on her ass and she made sure to shake it just enough to titillate them. Eat your heart out, she almost was saying.
He was there again that night, lurking in the shadows and coyly enjoying the sport of the whole thing. His manicured nails tapped on the table rhythmically, polished in a deep mahogany shade. Most men would call it a bold choice, but for him it was second nature. That ass of hers called to him, a siren song amidst a sea of other sirens.
She didn’t dance like most girls, instead choosing to enjoy the scene more in a social setting. In many ways she was still unsure of her own body and how it worked, mostly because it often betrayed her. It tended to give away her secrets when she wanted to keep them secret, but as it so often happens, her body always had a way of knowing what it wanted even when her mind didn’t.
The bathroom was calling her name, and her kidneys were in desperate need of relief. On her way in she caught him looking at her and she bit her lip, ducking into the crowded room and she sucked in a deep breath at the thought of him.
Her panties were damp when she came out, as if the scrap of fabric could be called panties in the first place. She looked down for moment and ran into what felt like a brick wall. Only this wall had arms and she quickly looked up, seeing him right there in front of her. The pit of her stomach dropped out and once again her body started betraying her.
His eyes were dark and bored a hole right through her soul. He didn’t even say anything, just smiled coyly and wound his long, slender fingers around her neck. He could feel her pulse there, beating uncontrollably. It made him excited to feel the blood coursing through her veins. The hair on the back of her neck stood up and while the flight or fight instinct should have been kicking in, once again her body decided differently.
Those strong fingers curled around the base of her neck and grabbed at the hair there. The height difference between them became readily apparently when he pulled and her head fell back with little resistance. Her breath was coming quickly now and she was embarrassed at her reactions to all of this. Normally she’d be fighting and protesting, but there was something about him that made her want to give in. To submit to him.
With his fingers still wrapped through her hair, he led them through the space, through the people, to a little door just off the main floor. Ever gangly on her feet, she stumbled and bumbled, knowing she should be screaming but instead wondering what he was doing. This felt dangerous. This felt different. This wasn’t her safety zone. And the surprising thing was that she liked it.
The air was cold outside, much colder than when she’d entered the building. Immediately her soft little nipples pebbled up under the thin top she wore and he roughly grabbed them, twisting and enjoying the gasps she was making. Out here in the cold, the beat of the music could still be felt from inside the building. The whole time, he kept his eyes on hers. Speaking without speaking and telling her that she was his, even if just for this short time.
With his hand still at the nape of her neck, he pushed her into the cold brick wall of the building and she turned her head just enough so that he could still see one green eye from the side. The look of abject terror was overlaid with curiosity and intrigue in that eye. That was the look he dared to bring out in her. That was the look he was hoping to see and the look he had risked claiming her for.
The tiny skirt of hers was first to go, pulled up over the round, plump ass he had long admired. Each ass cheek was pale, too pale for his liking. Her skin was ivory white compared to his mocha tan and he spread his large hands out on each round globe. He pulled and kneaded them, his nails raking each time and leaving bright red streaks. The contrast of red to white was lovely and he knew that her ass looked better with his marks. She’d have more before he was done and probably would carry them with her for days after, a reminder of where she’d been and what he’d done.
He leaned into her, pressing his hard cock still securely behind a straining zipper into her ass and she gasped. If she was perfectly honest with herself, she’d feared this but also wanted it. Yes, she’d wanted it for a long time. It was something she’d denied many times. She craved the violence. The brutality. The taking.
He traced his fingers along the string between her ass cheeks, and he saw her puckered little hole clench and relax. It knew what was coming and while he knew he’d have to work for it, the end result would be more than worth it.
With deft fingers he pulled the little fabric aside and traced her lips, noting that she wasn’t protesting the invasion. In fact, her breath was becoming shallower and that look of terror was being replaced with one of pleasure. Pleasure mixed with pain and desire. That was ultimately the goal of this whole thing. There was a innate beauty when those things came together, a feral beauty springing forth from deep inside a person’s soul.
She felt his finger press into her and her nipples grated against the hard, cold building through her top. A plea escaped her lips and he growled at her, his other hand again wrapping around her neck and tightening ever so slightly. She felt like a common whore, in the alley behind a club with his fingers inside her ass and her skirt around her waist. A beautiful, used whore. This was what she was searching for all along. To be used for another’s pleasure was pleasure for her too.
He released her neck and she gasped, her vision clearing. Something cold and slithery dripped on her asshole and those lithe fingers worked it in with skill. She knew what was coming and she shook her head almost to say no. But for the third time that night, her body betrayed her and her found herself saying yes.
Firm hands grabbed her hips and strong thumbs pulled the round cheeks of her ass apart, giving him room to slide the head of his hard cock between warm skin and flesh. She groaned as he pressed into her, her body resisting at first and them ever so gradually giving into him.
A slow entry with a fast withdrawal followed by a slam, slam, slam over and over again. She moaned and cried, her hips arching back into him as his fingernails dug into her hips. She cried not because she disliked it, but instead because something inside of her was breaking. The long held belief that she was always to be strong, always to be independent, always to be the one in control. Here in this alley way with her ass being invaded, she felt herself changing.
His marks would litter her body the next day, the day after that and the day after that. He had made sure of that. He wanted her to be reminded of his will and how it was stronger than hers. How while there were no winners and losers, there certainly were more powerful and less powerful. Her tiny body would bear the result of his power.
His fingernails dug sharply into her hips as he came and his larger body fell into hers. He molded himself to her, kissing the back of her neck and brushing the sweaty hair from her forehead. Her eyes sparkled and spoke volumes to him. He whispered his thanks and kissed her temple. She smiled and giggled at his now sweet actions compared to the animalistic actions of only a few minutes previous.
When respective clothing was back in place he took her hand, his larger hand swallowing up her smaller hand. He led her back inside the club and checked to make sure she had enjoyed herself. The light he saw from inside her told him she had and that something had changed inside her. It had been an experience filled with growth.
They parted with a hug and whispered promises of next time. They were both sure there would be a next time, even if when that next time would happen was in doubt. It was a only a matter of time, you see. Planets take time to rotate. Bodies inevitably come back together. Flesh always seeks out flesh. It was a truth of the universe, one they both acknowledged.