The Flipside of a Gentleman

Dima beckoned and when I came close he grabbed me and threw me harshly on the bed. Juice and water spilled everywhere. Ignoring the mess he got on top of me and pinned my hands down by my head. There was a hunger in him that made my cunt twitch. He was heavy and, looming over me like that, outrageously sexy. I struggled a little, an instinctive reaction, but my heart wasn't in it. There was no point, he'd made me want him again. Besides, I loved to be pinned down, to be all helpless and vulnerable.

My pathetic wriggling amused him. With a cocky grin he pressed his crotch against me, massaging my pussy. My exhales came out as lusty whines but as he held me down his face changed and I didn't like what it changed into. His eyes alone were enough to scare me.

"Dima?" I asked, uttering a short insecure laughter while trying to make a casual what's-going-on face.

Seeing it for the first time, I discovered that his evil grin sat far more naturally on his features than his friendly smile had. He let go of my hands and used his arms to restrain my upper body. He kissed me roughly, my lips smashed between my teeth and his lips. He was hurting me and I tried to yell at him but nothing got past his violent kisses. He even bit my lips, not teasingly like a lover but hard. I couldn't turn my head for his heavy palm on my forehead was holding me still. His weight was crushing me and I beat him with my fists anywhere I could reach but he was unmoved. It was hard to breath and more so with him covering my mouth with his.

I fought then. It wasn't a game and I was scared. He grabbed my hair, bent my head back and growled in my ear, "No fight, baby. Good girl or I hurt you."

I subdued my struggles but couldn't stop them entirely. I didn't beat him anymore but he sniggered as I tried to push him off me. He ground his swelling cock against my pussy. So, this is what turns him on, I thought ruefully, not a willing blowjob but forcing himself on me. His other hand reached down between us, and after yanking the towel aside he found my naked pussy. He fingered me roughly and I screamed in rage and revulsion.

While tears welled in my eyes he started forcing himself between my legs. Not again. Sensing my resistance, he pulled my hair and snarled his no-fight command again. I didn't dare to defy him and gingerly let him spread my legs.

"Spread your pussy for me," he commanded.

I couldn't believe he'd make me do that, but his eyes terrified me and I did as I was told -- with both hands. I'd never felt so humiliated, not even when his cum throbbed in my vagina after the first rape, and I squeezed my eyes shut moaning, "No, no, no," in a barely audible whisper, waiting to be raped.

He grinned and whispered, "Now say please." I felt like throwing up but he yanked my hair and shouted, "Look at me!" He was a monster, a madman and I was scared to death and whimpered his chosen word.

He leaned closer, toying with me. "Say it like you mean it."

Breaking into sobs I wailed, "Please," and the moment I said the word, he thrust inside me with a savage growl and I cried out in dismay.

Suddenly Dima spoke plenty of English. There was no grammar to speak of but he mastered an extensive porn film vocabulary. He fucked me hard, slamming into me mercilessly, making me groan in pain each time he speared me. Both of his hands were on the top of my head so my body couldn't rock away from him and escape his vicious stabs. When he hit bottom he paused to stretch me and whispered, "Good girl," while gently stroking my forehead with his thumb.

I tried to push him away and hit him, desperate to stop the agony of being raped. "Take cock baby or I flip you over and have your ass," he barked at me and I did as I was told. Again and again he forced himself in me telling me how he'd fuck me until I couldn't stand up. Every time I tried to close my eyes he slapped me to make clear there was no drifting away from him.

When the first shock had passed and I lay under him more compliant and adjusted to his ruthless fucking, he bent my legs up for better access. He kept hold of my shoulders and pulled me on his cock, forcing his way even deeper. It took me into new heights of pain and I trashed and screamed, thinking he would tear the bottom of my vagina. When I got too loud, he bit my neck until I understood to keep it down. When I did, there was the good-girl routine again and my cunt tingled and flooded for him. He'd said it so often there was a continuous squishing sound as his cock churned in my pussy. What's happening to me, my mind echoed in self-disgust.

He left me no room to react, and with eyes full of tears I begged him, "Stop, you're hurting me. Dima no more, please."

When I blinked, I saw another Dima wrapping me in his coat, but this one fucked me so hard my buttocks made a sharp smacking sound hitting against his pelvis. My hands went looking for anything to grab on to but there was no respite to brace myself for his pace was brutal. As he kept me still by the shoulders, I had no chance to adjust my hips to slow him down even a little or lessen the pain some. All I could do was to give myself to him and hope it would be over soon.

It was horrible but I was getting turned on by him being totally in charge. Far from cumming he took his time abusing me, and the sharp pangs of his thrusts melted into the constant throbbing pain in my flesh. He mixed the tenderness of praising his good little girl with the cruel usage of my inflamed cunt and I moaned and jerked in arousal as my juices ran down my crack to make a wet stain on the sheet.

Suddenly the thrusts ceased and he stopped still inside me. I was relieved to have a break from the rough fucking and gasped for air. I let my body go limp and lay inert under him, recovering. His shaft pulsed inside me, acutely sharpening my awareness of my pelvic area. Without competing sensations the feel of fullness in my pussy became overwhelming. I grew restless and shocked myself by wishing Dima would fuck me more. He stayed unmoving for so long that my need grew too compelling and I started moving my body on his cock, rocking up and down.

"Please don't stop," I mumbled and he filled me slowly and gently and I could sense the shape and width of him. Dima stroked my hair and kissed me - passionate, erotic kisses that made my cunt squeeze him tight. He kept shushing me though I made little noise and that continued controlling made me shiver in excitement. Dima's lips brushed all over my shoulders, chest and neck while he made love to me. He kissed gently and bit harshly and I arched into him to beg for more. His hands teased my body while his cock was stroking my insides. My clit ached to be touched and every part of me craved for the shudders that would bring release.

"Dima, please, may I?" I whispered timidly in Russian and glided my hands apprehensively down towards my crotch. He grinned triumphantly and straightened himself so I could reach to degrade myself in his eyes from an innocent to a wanton.

Dima was captivated. He stared at my nimbly shifting fingers licking his lips and huffing profanities in Russian. Contractions had started deep inside me the second my fingers touched my clit and they grew stronger with Dima's precise movements. I was rapidly gravitating towards an orgasm when Dima leaned down and whispered in my ear, "Scream for me baby, be my little slut."

That did it. My stomach muscles cramped and, body freezing rigid, I wailed a long incoherent scream. My pussy gripped his cock in a series of convulsions that went on long after I had slumped back on the bed, exhausted and blurry.

Dima kept moving in my pussy through my orgastic spasms. When I recovered a little I gestured him to pin my hands down again and he flashed me a wicked smile. I wanted him to take me like that, hazy and fragile. He pulled my hands over my head and the backs of my hands dug into the mattress. When he pushed into me I tried to push him out, imagining he was a rapist I wanted out of me. Dima immediately let out a loud spontaneous grunt and, his unwavering restraint cracking for a second, he forgot his steady pace and drove wildly into me with his cock. I wanted to push when he came in and squeeze when he pulled out, but his pace was so erratic I couldn't keep up with his rhythm.

I decided on pushing out all the time as that got more noise out of him. I even went as far as to struggle against him, to which his cock twitched. I kicked, wriggled away from his cock, squeezed my thighs together and angled my hips to block him from shoving his meat inside me. I fought so fiercely his cock kept slipping out and he had to wrestle me to get back in. We were both worked up, feral, grunting and growling in anger. He let go of my hands and grabbed my hips preventing my evasions. He forced his spear in me so brutally I couldn't hold back a shocked high-pitched shriek.

"Shut up!" he shouted and slapped me hard in the face. Breaking into sobs I tried to push him away, but he was lost in his own pleasure and fucked me viciously, punishing my bruised insides.

He grabbed my chin and made me look at him. "You like my cock inside you?" He leaned to lick my neck like a beast and growled, "Get used to it. You're mine."

With his primitive words a hot wind engulfed me and my used wet pussy tightened on him. "Yes," I admitted and abandoned all resistance. His pace quickened, his rhythm broke and he started roaring. Thrusting feverishly, lowering his roar into a series of loud grunts he pumped his load deep in my cunt, shaking all over.

For a while he stayed still until gingerly, groaning like a man sliding a knife out of his flesh, he slipped his limp penis out of me. Gasping for breath, Dima collapsed on the bed beside where I lay still and sated, looking at the ceiling but not really seeing anything. He spread his arm and beckoned me to snuggle. Stroking my damp hair with his big rough palm he whistled quietly and sighed in Russian, "Baby, you're something."

That something was twisted and I couldn't shake the shame and guilt, but at the time they were outweighed by euphoria. His semen seeped out of me and this time I didn't resent it; he'd marked me with his seed and I loved it.

Dima fell asleep right away but I lay awake for a while reliving the night's events. He smelled so sexy. Part of it was aftershave and such but the rest of it - his own scent, his sweat - was intoxicating. I lay my head to rest on his upper arm where I could inhale him. Pheromones, it just has to be, I tried to explain my behaviour to myself, sinking into a deep dreamless sleep.

***

Saturday

I woke up before Dima and tiptoed into the shower, it was already afternoon. I washed off the sweat and the stickiness between my legs though the water stung the numerous abrasions and little tears I had inside and on my pussy. It wasn't an easy choice between staying dirty and enduring the burn on my tender flesh. Thinking of last night made me feel uncomfortable and confused. In the light of day the world was different. My body ached all over with muscles sore from the struggling. My thighs, arms and shoulders had bruises on them, bite marks specked my neck, chest and breasts, even my cheek hurt when I opened my mouth to brush my teeth. Luckily my face wasn't bruised or swollen, but only because Dima hadn't hit me in earnest.

He'd raped me twice. He'd made me terrified of himself and hurt me until I screamed. He'd even struck me and yet I had come for him. Will it be different for him too now the night's over, I wondered, will he regret? I realized I didn't want him to go away and thus was convinced I was loosing my mind. Hurt, fear and what might have constituted as rape lost 6-0 to the memory of him in the Art Nouveau maze, to the ecstasy I'd experienced and most of all to the memory of him saying I was his.

Dima wasn't in the bed when I got out of the bathroom, I was crestfallen. He's left. A hand clamped on my mouth from behind. I instinctively fought to get free, but when I was thumped my back against the wall I saw Dima, and the icicle in my heart melted away. He pressed his whole body against me and leaned to nuzzle my neck, overloading my sensory cells. My body purred but I gritted my teeth determined to resist him.

"Что ты хочешь?" Chto ti hochesh? What do you want? I asked trying to sound unaffected. The nerve endings on my skin were perked up, expectant. He started kissing and biting gently. I trembled, gasping and moaning in turn. I was angry at myself for not being able to control my body.

"You want me to take you?" He's voice was hoarse and sexy, his language soft and enthralling and the words pierced me as a gush of heat. "You want me to hurt you?" His hands removed my towel and stroked my back. I wriggled feebly. My hands were free but I didn't stop him. "You want me inside you?" His lips brushed against my collarbone. I wailed angrily in fear I'd give in to him soon for my head swam, overthrown by his scent.

He licked the skin behind my ear murmuring, "You're not fooling anyone, baby. What do you want?" He kissed my neck a few more times teasing with his tongue, before he stopped altogether. He lifted his mouth to my ear and whispered, "Tell me."

My skin smouldered, shivering to be touched again. "Don't stop," I squealed surrendering.

He made one teasing stroke with the tip of his nose. "Stop what?"

I wanted him, I wanted all of him, but couldn't say it. I couldn't understand any of what happened with Dima. Although his cruellest streaks frightened me, he made me feel like I had always wanted to; he put me in danger and he made me safe.

He lifted me up, my legs around his waist and my back against the wall. He had his boxers on, but he teased me, pressing his crotch on my naked pussy like he was fucking me against the wall. My body trembled and a tide of wetness rose inside me. Reluctantly I dragged myself out from under his spell; we were supposed to meet the others in an hour.

I used my massive Russian vocabulary, "Dima, I want, but the sea, and friend."

He grunted looking truly disheartened and stepped away from the wall. He slid me back on the floor and turned away in search of his clothes. A single word of salvation drifted from my memory.

"после?" I asked timidly. Posle, after. For a moment he looked baffled, then he connected the dots and, with a wide smile, gave me a passionate kiss. Perhaps I hadn't been the only one to fear the other would regret.

The group had made plans the previous night to meet on Puotila beach in one of the eastern suburbs. It was the most convenient swimming place since most of us lived in that part of the city. Dima and I walked there through a patch of forest. There were no others on the track and he pulled me roughly to him to be teased with kisses and strokes. He pinned me against a tree trunk and picked me up like he had in my apartment, the coarse bark chafing my back. A thought of spiders and bugs crawling on me crossed my mind, but when he leaned on me, the bulge of his penis digging into my crotch, all I had left in my mind was delirium.

"What is it that you do to me?" I moaned. I was worried about the way my body overruled my mind when ever Dima was involved. He answered by running his nose down the side of my head, shushing me. His strong arms engulfed me and I quit resisting the warm and safe feeling of letting go; in a daze I yielded myself completely under his power.

Everyone knew of course that we had left together, but Artyom, with whom Dima was staying during his visit, was the only one to know Dima had spent the night with me. When we appeared to our rendevouz together, Dima in the same and still somewhat damp clothes he wore the previous night, we got dirty knowing grins from all of them. It would have been embarrassing enough if we'd just had an ordinary one night stand, but we had so much more to be uneasy for when our friends teased us: the rapes, the abuse, the mind games.

For young people they were surprisingly old fashioned about our age difference, my friends especially, but the sun cast beautifully coloured light, dandelion fluff danced in the air and we spent a few dreamlike hours with them. I took a swim wearing a large t-shirt, not wanting to reveal the bruises and bite marks on my body. The cool saltwater soothed the ache between my legs and the soreness of my muscles. Before leaving home I'd applied concealer on the bruises the shirt didn't hide. My bitten neck was noticed despite my efforts and it increased the smirking.

Swimming and sweating, I couldn't help some of the make up wearing off. Minttu eyed curiously at my legs but I stared her down. I could only hope she'd keep her observations to herself. Dima was old school and not much for public displays of attention, thus we were the first to take our leave, bodies buzzing to touch freely again. Hiding his handiwork and the risk of it being exposed had been thrilling for both of us.

We made a detour to Artyom's flat to fetch Dima some clothes and such. On the way home I took us by a pharmacy. I was a little embarrassed and couldn't remember what medicine was in Russian.

"Dima, I don't want, a child," I managed, "do you understand?"

He smiled looking relieved, and quickly explained something in a hushed tone, gesturing downwards. He saw from my expression that I understood none of it.

"No child," he said in English, but I wasn't convinced and used my single Estonian sentence.

"Räägi Eesti." Speak Estonian.

The words 'I can't have children' were the same in Estonian as in Finnish and I joined Dima in the club of the relieved. It didn't affect the risk of STDs of course, but I was too happy to worry about that.

Returning to my apartment, we were suddenly a bit shy to be there and just the two of us again. Especially now the others knew we were off somewhere having sex. I seriously hoped that was all they knew and Minttu hadn't told anyone about the bruises.

After dinner I took a shower to wash the sand off. When I stepped out of the bathroom, Dima grabbed me from behind and gagged me before I had time to react. My shout for him to leave me alone, that I was too hurt for more sex, never got out. I was apprehensive but didn't know if there was a reason to be truly scared. After all, he'd been so sweet all day.

He pulled a dark pillowcase over my head and growled in my ear, "All mine baby girl, all mine now."

I loved it when he talked to me like he owned me, but his voice was full of threat and my body went cold. He manhandled me to kneel on the bed and tied my hands to the bedposts. I fought but was no match for him. To be tied up was venom for it left me more exposed than I was comfortable with, especially when he had gagged and hooded me and I had no way to communicate with him.

He dragged me 'til my hands were stretched taut and arranged me to his liking, hips thrust up and upper body weight hanging on my splayed arms. He was up in my dry cunt before I had time to realize what was happening. The strokes dragged the linings of my pussy and the friction chafed and burned the torn walls of my vagina. He used as much force and violence ramming into my pussy as he could muster. I growled through my nose every time he slammed his cock in. They might have been screams to start with, but I could hardly get a sound past the gag.

He kept brakes, pulled out and let me calm down. When the hurt had eased he started anew. The pauses made sure the pain was always fresh - he didn't want me numb. Just as my cunt was starting to lubricate to ease my suffering, his pace got slower. His hand grazed my buttock and I felt a finger circling my asshole. Oh god, please not that. I had known this was just a question of time, and hell, I had wanted him to fuck my ass, but not like this. In this mood he'd tear me up just for the fun of it, and my sphincter might never completely heal. My eyes teared up in the darkness of the hood. It was horrible not to see, not to know. I'd never been claustrophobic but panic was rising in me; I was buried alive and I'd never get out again, I'd spend the rest of my life trapped and being raped. I sobbed as I felt cold lube on my anus and the rigid tip of a small dildo going in. I kept sobbing, but for a moment it was from relief for he'd spared me from the crippling pain of slamming right in.