This story was added on January 14, 2017

A MATTER OF DISCIPLINE. Part 1 By Eric Red.

You meet someone who totally turns your sexual world upside down and in the process teaches you things about yourself that you may not have known.

Good/bad, pain/pleasure, dominance/submission, desire/repulsion the feelings and sensations while distinct nonetheless meld and become almost indistinguishable one from the other on an emotional and sexual level. This story includes elements of anal loving, physical dominance, sexual violence, emotional submission, rough sex and reluctance.

I am male this story is a fantasy of mine, written as a female, and perhaps what I would like to do.
How is it that women so often let themselves walk into untenable situations with their eyes wide open, but unseeing? I did exactly that almost a year and a half ago, and trust me, at the time I didn't have a clue what was happening. My new lover Eric, was a sexual dream come true, and I was more than willing to put on those proverbial rose-colored glasses if it would keep him in my bed and between my legs.

From the beginning, the sexual side of our relationship was electric. The sex was almost frighteningly good. Eric was a young, well thought of lawyer associated with a good firm and I was inexperienced and sexually ready for someone like him. Hell, maybe that was the problem, the relationship revolved around fucking . . . where we could do it, when we could do it, how we could do it, and in what positions we could do it.

I remember the first time we were together; the sexual sparks were already flying. We'd gotten back to his place after a night of dancing and drinking, and after a few more drinks gravitated to his bedroom. We both were ready and knew exactly what was going to happen. He unzipped my dress and I stepped out of it, removed my panties and was about to remove my stockings.

"Sit down on the bed," Eric said.

I stood there, looking at him, naked except for my stockings. "Why?"

"Just sit on the fucking bed."

I went to the bed, sat down and teasingly leaned back, opening my legs. I could see him becoming aroused as he looked at my already wet and glistening pussy. I let my fingers slip down to my swelling clit and playfully rubbed it until the moist pink bud poked out, hard and now clearly visible.

"I love the way your pussy looks," he said in a hoarse, throaty voice, "swollen, pink and wet."

"Now, finger fuck yourself and cum for me," he commanded, and I eagerly rubbed my clit and fingered my pussy until my juices dripped down between my ass cheeks. When he bent down, slipped his tongue between my fingers, and flicked my throbbing nub, all I could do was cry out with the pleasure. The sensations were dizzying, leaving me lightheaded and breathless as he ate my pussy with obvious delight.

"Oh yes, Eric, please . . . yes . . . like that," I moaned as I took his head in my hands and pressed his face tightly to me.

"Stick your tongue inside me; I want to feel your teeth on my clit." The feel of his mouth between my legs was unbelievable, he soon had me ready to explode. With a final thrust of his fingers into my pussy, I came hard, straining against his mouth, giving in totally to my orgasm.

When things were going well it was wonderful, and like many women, I'd sometimes find myself daydreaming about marrying and making babies with him. You know, him going off to work each day and me staying at home with a big pregnant belly and heavy milk laden tits, happily waiting for him to get home so we could have more sex. Crazy?

Our relationship progressed quickly, but for all of his seemingly good qualities, there were things that should have sent up red flags for me. A couple of incidents come to mind that should have made me take a closer look at Eric and really see his insecurities and sexual quirks. The first happened the night of a mutual friend's birthday party. We'd been there for a few hours and Eric had had a couple of drinks, but he wasn't drunk. I was with a group of old friends, laughing and talking, but I had gotten a little nervous when at one point I looked up and saw him standing across the room glaring at me. Suddenly he came up, and taking me possessively by my arm excused us and led me away from the group. "Eric, please don't make a scene," I pleaded as he practically dragged me down the hallway to one of the empty bedrooms.

He pushed me into the room and continued his tirade. "I saw you talking to that guy, dancing with him, rubbing yourself against him like a slut." He was right up in my face. "Why are you acting like a fucking slut in front of our friends?"

"What are you talking about?" I asked in total bewilderment. The fury on his face scared me in a way I had never experienced with him before.

I made myself stay calm and reassured him that I would never do anything to intentionally embarrass or disrespect him. Then, when he looked away, I tried to rush past him but he blocked my escape. Impulsively, I then scurried across the bed to the other side and made to run toward the door, but he caught me again and this time, he slammed me hard against the wall. My head was turned and I could feel the rough coolness of it against my cheek. With one hand, he held my face there while he warned me in a low, intimidating voice, "You'd better not let anyone else fuck you!"

I couldn't see him, but I heard him as he undid his belt and pants and pulled his cock out; when it brushed against my thigh I could feel that it was already hard.

"If you think you need a fuck, bitch, I'll give you a fuck," he said through clenched teeth. "I can see you need to learn some discipline and I'll be happy to teach it to you, slut."

I struggled as he roughly pulled my dress up over my hips, yanked the crotch of my panties aside and rammed his huge, pulsing cock into me. When I screamed, he covered my mouth with his hand, turning my scream into a muffled whine.

He hadn't closed the door all of the way, and after a couple of minutes of him abusing me, out of the corner of my eye I saw someone. This guy, this stranger, was standing there in the doorway, his cock in his hand, watching and jerking himself off as Eric fucked me. Though I felt nothing but humiliation and shame, I tried to make eye contact with the guy and struggled harder, but he was so absorbed in what Eric was doing to me that he wouldn't look at my face. As Eric fucked into me, the guy watching us jerked himself off into someone's sweater he'd grabbed off the bed. He probably thought that what he had witnessed was just someone having a quickie sex with his girlfriend, and not a crazy bastard sexually 'disciplining' his bitch.

When Eric finally climaxed I was crying so hard I didn't realise he had finished, not until he grunted and pulled out of me. His thick, white cum slowly pooled in the crotch of my panties. To my amazement, he then became the thoughtful, caring man I knew, actually turning me around to face him and kissing me as if nothing had happened. He wiped my tears away, brushed back my damp hair and told me to straighten my clothes and he would take me home. It was unreal . . . I mean, that was it . . . nothing else was said about it.

As we drove to my apartment, I sat there trying to figure out how I could end whatever this was between us. "Get ready for bed," he instructed as soon as we got into my apartment. I undressed and got into bed, hoping that he would leave, but he stripped out of his clothes, crawled into bed and immediately reached between my legs to fondle me. I caught my breath when he inserted his fingers into my pussy and like the slut he'd called me all evening, I didn't resist him. The renewed, throbbing ache between my legs only emphasized how much I now wanted him. He brought me to orgasm and before the waves of pleasure had faded, he rolled me onto my back, spread my legs and claimed my wet, dripping pussy with his mouth.

Though I was sore from his earlier treatment, he buried his face in my puffy, soft mound and lovingly licked and sucked me, my moans growing louder and louder. He opened me and let his tongue run up and down the inside of my thighs, coming close to my pussy and clit but not pleasuring me there. Repeatedly he brushed his lips over my pussy slit, making me whimper and purr with excitement. Did he know how angry I had been with him? He must have, and yet here he was, obviously taking pleasure in making me hump his mouth and strain to feel his tongue inside me. He finally put his mouth on top of my clit, and, sucking so gently, so deliciously, gave me the tongue fucking that I wanted, making me cum wet and sticky into his mouth. Physically satisfied and covered in a moist sheen of sweat, the room smelling of our pungent sex, I fell asleep, exhausted.

When I woke that morning, he was still there next to me, his hard, masculine body warm and naked against mine.
"Good morning, baby," he said, rubbing against me so I could feel the pressure of his morning hardness against my ass, pushing and probing for entry. He found my still swollen, pink hole and effortlessly slid inside me. I closed my eyes remembering how upset we both had been the night before, but now in the light of day, everything seemed fine as he maneuvered on top of me and lost himself in fucking me.

Things went pretty well for several months, and there were no more incidents. Apparently, all had been forgotten and forgiven. I think in some strange way I cared for him and realised that despite how professionally successful he was, and despite how wonderful a person he was most of the time . . . he had issues. If he were upset with me, our lovemaking for him would evolve into rough sex, during which he would 'discipline' me. Afterwards, he would hold and kiss me, all the while telling me that everything would be okay and then would make exquisite love to me leaving me clinging to him, sexually satisfied and submissive.

Eric's law firm was just a few blocks from my office, so occasionally he would swing by and pick me up after work. One afternoon when he picked me up, he saw me outside of the office talking with one of my male co-workers who happened to have his arm innocently about my shoulders. The argument started almost immediately after I got into his car. All the way home, I listened to accusations and tried to ignore the intimidation. At first, I tried talking to him, but it proved pointless and after a while, I just sat there, silent.

When we got to my apartment, I jumped out of the car and ran to unlock the door and get inside away from him, but before I could close and lock it behind me, he had pushed it open. He stepped inside, slamming and locking the door behind him.

"Enough," I shouted. "I've had enough; I just want you to get out! Now!"

Eric, stood there, expressionless, making no move to leave.

"Eric, please listen to me," I said in what I hoped was a calm voice. "I think you should leave now." With tears now brimming in my eyes I looked up at him and said, "It's over between us Eric if you don't leave I'm going to call the police."

"Alright, but you want me don't you?" he said after a long silence.

"YES, | do " I replied.

Relieved, I foolishly let my guard down when he started walking towards the door, and so I wasn't expecting it when he suddenly turned around and pushed me, making me stumble backwards. I think I must have fallen and bumped my head. When I came to, I was on the living room floor with my legs splayed open, my knees pushed up against my chest, my clit and pussy glistening and exposed. My blouse was open and my bra pulled down so that my breasts were free, and my nipples visibly hard and peaked. Eric was on top of me, his thick, angry hard-on with its huge cockhead poised to enter me. I started to struggle, but he put all of his weight on me and ruthlessly pushed his cock into me up to his balls.

"Make me cum Eric, you bastard!" I screamed.

I could barely move or breathe under his weight and finally stopped trying to fight him; I just lay there while he fucked me. I know this sounds terrible, but he took me the way I always liked it, slow and deep. Within a short time, I felt an orgasm building, I didn't want it to happen, but I knew there was nothing I could do to stop it . . . I was going to cum.

"Oh god, I'm cummmminggggggg," I groaned as my hips began to hump against him. I could feel my pussy involuntarily grip and release his cock as he also erupted, sending his load deep inside me. Never saying a word, he pulled out of me and began milking his cock so that the last drops of cum fell onto my face. He got up and started to dress, but before he pulled up his pants, he made me get on my knees and crawl between his legs where he demanded that I suck and lick his dick clean. Grabbing handfuls of my hair he held my head in front of him until I had sufficiently cleaned him.

When he left, I grabbed my phone intending to call 999, but then decided against it.

I mean, what would I say? "My boyfriend, whom I've been fucking almost every night for the last nine months pushed his way into my apartment and forced me to have rough sex with him. I didn't want to, but I couldn't stop him . . . oh, and did I mention that he gave me a fantastic orgasm?"
I put the phone down.

To be continued

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Story Tags: Cunningness   masturbation   control  

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eric60red

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