The Flipside of a Gentleman

Though appalled and mortified by myself, I couldn't help enjoying his ministrations. Dima held still in my cunt, filling me but not hurting me and in my ass the little dildo moved back and forth. Longing to be filled after his teasing, I wished he'd put his cock in my ass already. Too late I realized I was fucking back.

"My lusty little slut," he praised and put the slick lubed head of his cock on my hole. I didn't flinch and he chortled, "That's a good girl, taking it up the ass like a whore." I shuddered in heat, his words were poison but I wanted to drown in it.

Dima put some pressure on my anus and I pressed against him until I felt the tip ease in. Then, gasping, I moved away to ease the pressure when he pushed the rest of the knob in. He stopped there, giving me time to squiggle my hips and adjust. I loved the mixed feeling of intimacy and violation when my ring of muscle squeezed the stretching shaft, eager to suck more of it in.

Dima poured lube on his cock and started to push in. I thrust back easing him deeper. "Good girl," he praised. An instantaneous surge of giddy goodness gripped me and my pussy and ass spasmed. The reaction I had to those words time and again was totally ridiculous, but I was in no state to figure it out now.

He pulled out a bit, poured more lube and pushed back in. I moved to meet him until my bonds stopped me. As he started pulling out again I heard myself let out a little disappointed mewing sound. Dima's finger went to my pussy hole and slid right in to the flowing wetness I'd produced.

"If you had told me how much you like a cock up your bottom, I'd have taken care of my little slut before."

Given the context I had no problems understanding his Russian. He pulled out entirely, leaving the tip of his cock touching my bud. After another drizzle of lube he pushed back in, stopping for a while to move only the head in and out through my tight sphincter. I moaned in pleasure and tried to fuck back and get more of him in. He shushed me and I forced myself to stay still while he teased me.

Finally he started the long strokes I'd been waiting for. He fucked my ass slowly, burrowing deeper with every thrust. It was pure ecstasy for is slow pace let me enjoy every sensation and I wished my hands were free so I could rub my clit. He kept putting on more lube and talked dirty to me when ever he wanted my pelvic muscles to spasm around him. His finger went to my pussy again. "Girl, you're dirty. Does my little anal slut need something in here too?" My cheeks burned with shame and I couldn't speak but yes, I damn well did. My cunt was raw, yet I desperately wanted to be filled.

I felt the cool touch of silicone on my pussy lips and a dildo, thicker this time, glided effortlessly along my wetness, stinging the sore flesh. Dima made a few strokes in and out. "I know what you need baby." He'd found my inflatable dildo and pumped it rapidly until he heard me moan, pumped a little more and let go of it. He started to fuck my ass again and I was exalted. Nothing hurt too bad but I was stretched to the most satisfying fullness I ever knew. My clit throbbed ardently and I ached to cum.

Dima went on inflating the dildo. My cunt stretched and he praised the tightness of my ass. This really made me realize his age for he already had and seemingly still could fuck me for forever. He had enough self discipline to hold back when he was getting too close. I hoped he would cum soon though, for I longed for a grand finale. Besides, if he came he'd probably let my hands free and I could masturbate myself into the violent orgasm my body so vehemently demanded.

The air Dima pumped in between his slow strokes went where my pussy yielded space to expand and the dildo ballooned behind my pelvic opening. It was getting very uncomfortable but being at his mercy was also deeply gratifying. I hoped he would fuck me harder but he just pumped more air in the dildo, let some out and pumped again. The dull uncompromising pain swallowed my whole abdomen and pelvis and tears ran down my strained face under the hood. Still, I didn't resist for I wanted to be good.

Finally he went too far with the pump and my resolve crumbled under the torture, I started to flinch and buck away. He mumbled his little darling to be still and take it like a good girl. I strived to please my Dima, but the next inflations were too much and I began to yell and struggle. Disappointed, he pulled out of my ass and the pressure eased some. He promptly compensated for it with four inflations in a rapid succession. I thrashed in my ropes, screaming in shock. He patted my butt, tugged on the dildo to check it sat snug and got off the bed.

I don't know how long I was a prisoner inside my dark hood. I heard his footsteps around the flat. I heard the TV, the coffee maker and the balcony door. My arms and wrists were aching from supporting my weight. Frequently he returned to stand by the bed and the dildo inside me swelled and I screamed for him, having already been stretched as far as my cunt could go. Yet I had no way to flee the pain and panted like a mother giving birth while Dima ran his palm over the arcs and hollows of my naked quivering body. Whining weakly I pleaded, but he took no notice and when he walked away I sobbed.

The pain was too cruel to bear, but it was the pillowcase that threatened to undo me. It seemed to shrink every passing second and strangle me. The air I sucked through the tightly woven threads was warm and stuffy and each labored inhalation took me closer to the deep end of panic.

When I finally felt his weight on the mattress I was relieved. Being hurt by him was terrifying but it was better than being tied up alone in the dark. Dima tugged on the dildo and I yelped. Muttering something I couldn't hear, he kneeled between my legs and rested the tip of his penis on my asshole. This time Dima wasn't gentle. Trusting I was still stretched and supple, he gave me no warning and shoved the whole length of his cock in me on the first savage plunge. He took no pity on my asshole and I shrieked in pain as my ring of muscle was stretched so violently. What noise got through my gag wasn't loud enough to alarm the neighbours and he let me howl all I wanted.

"Scream baby, show daddy how it hurts," he urged.

Dima twisted his cock to penetrate me from different angles. I tried to get away when he grabbed my waist pulling me on his cock, but his legs held mine pinned. He forced himself a space where there was none left and my every exhale was a scream. His balls slapped against the handle of the dildo as his thighs smacked my butt hard enough to smart. There was no other sensory input to my brain than the pain in my sex organs, and the need to flee from it.

Any lube that had been left in my back passage had worn out and he was practically fucking me raw. I sobbed between my howls while he petted my ass and caressed my red and swollen pussy lips, telling me how good a fuck I was. His arms were around my shoulders to keep me from bucking away from his cock. I started kicking with all my strength, the pain, the ties, the hood - panic overwhelmed me and I was suffocating.

My fighting excited him and he started slamming against me without a rhythm, without thrusts even, just a blur of spearlike stabs in my anal tract. It lasted forever and my belly started to cramp with such violent usage of my rectum. I cramped and he tried to hold me still. Dima raped me impatiently, balls aching to cum, making the bulged dildo move painfully in my agonized pussy. At last he bellowed and filled my ass with cum, milking himself with my body, taking his time, getting every drop out.

He was totally spent and crashed on the bed. Mercifully, he reached to loosen my restraints and I collapsed next to him. I curled up into a ball, the dildo still in me, the gag in my mouth and loops still around my wrists. I was too groggy to even claw the hood off. I wanted nothing; to be nothing, to feel nothing.

"Next time," he muttered short of breath, "I want to see you stay still without the ties."

When I woke up it was twilight outside and the pain had dulled a little. Dima spooned against my back, an arm protectively around me, the other stretched on the pillow above my head. The ropes, the hood and the gag were gone. The dildo inside me had been deflated and slid out. He hadn't showered, I could smell his sweat and the scent was warm and bewitching. I nestled closer to his bare skin and hugged the arm in front of me. I didn't understand my emotions, moreover, I didn't understand why I had any. I liked it when he was rough, but when he got carried away it was insanity. He hadn't stopped when I begged him to, when it wasn't fun anymore or kinky or exciting. Yet afterwards he'd be the gentlest and kindest man, taking care of me like I was the most fragile thing in the world.

I was never one to surrender to bullying or abuse, but what he did - what we did - didn't fall into any category I knew. Due to our language barrier I couldn't ask him what the hell was this all about, but the world with him was tempting in its simplicity: If I let him be the only scary thing in my mind, he'd also be a hero who would have the power to keep away all that was scary in the world outside. He was a drug I couldn't stop wanting though I knew it was bad for me. I was still chiding myself of lunacy when I started kissing his rough fingertips to wake him up.

***

Again we existed in a romantic dream state, like that at the beach. While I cleaned myself up in the bathroom, he'd rummaged in my kitchen and made us some hot chocolate. I dragged a heap of blankets out to the balcony chairs where we sat down to enjoy the hot sweet drink. We asked questions about each others' lives and could even understand much of the answers drifting back and forth as a mixture of four languages and silly hand gestures. It couldn't be helped that our communication was clumsy, but when I proposed I fetch a dictionary Dima stopped me saying it was so much more fun our way. He breathed on the window and showed me how to write his whole name. Carefully he weighed the syllables of my name until he came up with a Russian pet name for me and I was exalted to have a name that was his alone. Gradually he abandoned the support of Estonian and English, deciding I understood him well enough.

His age made just sitting there together exciting. Despite me being of age, that intimacy with him felt like something I wasn't supposed to do and did anyway, something that should be a secret, but of which our friends knew. Giving myself to him was against everything that was expected of me, but I wanted Dima to never stop touching me. I pulled him to me and his slow, soft kisses drew whines of pleasure from me and my strength and will melted away.

He got up and spread his blankets on the concrete floor. Taking me by the hand he lead me to sit and lay down on them, a cushion under my head. He draped my upper body back in the warmth of blankets and started sliding the hem of my ankle-length nightgown up. "Dima, no, please, not now, hurting." In one smooth movement he leaned over me and dragged the garment up to my waist. He looked into my eyes, promising he wouldn't hurt me and kissed my forehead. That gesture has always been the most loving I know and I relaxed and and let him, and the cool night air, between my thighs.

His nose stroke up my slit and I whispered hastily, "Dima, I need to shower and the neighbours can--"

He tilted his head back to look at me. "Shh, let me take care of you."

His familiar husky voice was so reassuring that I lay back down. I've always been uncomfortable having someone down there, smelling and tasting me so I couldn't help squirming and trying to move away.

"Dima, don't..."

"Shh," he hissed and lay a heavy hand on my twitching leg and I settled.

I flinched when the tip of his tongue first touched my lips. I couldn't shake the thought of how I would taste and fought the urge to push his head away. His finger traveled down my slit to my pussy hole. While I winced he whispered, "Don't be afraid, I won't hurt you."

He dipped his finger in the wetness already pooling outside my hole and slid the finger up to my clit spreading my juices, repeating until my clit was slippery and wet. He started rubbing it deftly, his rough skin creating a pleasant friction. I couldn't hold my moans and Dima shushed me again, not threateningly but adamantly. He bent down to kiss my clit and I tensed my whole body trying to stay quiet and submit to the touch.

His hands parted my pussy lips and his tongue begun to wander. I found it was easier to go with the flow with Dima, who'd do exactly what he wanted to do, no matter how I felt about it. Since he ignored my protestations, I was able to let go of them, and there in the darkness, kissing and nibbling, he made me enjoy what I normally detested. Each time he ran his tongue over my clit I whined and moaned, trying to keep it down. When ever I succeeded stifling myself, he'd tell me what a good girl I was.

When I was wriggling under him, my hips bucking, he couldn't resist slipping a finger up my wet pussy. I was about to chide him about it, but he shushed me down. "You're so wet it won't hurt. Relax."

It felt uncomfortable and smarted a little when he started to fuck me with it, but I didn't actually hurt. Any pain there might have been got lost in the waves of heat my clit was spilling over me, while Dima kept his tongue on my nub, massaging and swirling. He put in another finger and immediately after a third and the fingers chafed what the dildo had left sore. The sensations undermined my resolution to be silent and I moaned his name under my breath.

I felt his fingers digging into my flesh. "Ready?" he whispered and dragged his nails along my bruised cunt walls. I whinnied and arched in pain but knew better than to ask him to take his fingers out. He looked up and said softly, "Shut up when I hurt you." I pinched my larynx 'til nothing but feeble grunts got out and he smiled, pleased at how hard I struggled to obey him. "Good girl," he whispered stroking my thigh and I felt again the disturbing satisfaction for earning that particular praise.

I was sweating and ripe to collapse into an orgasm. Dima didn't want to get physical and force my silence, instead he wanted to enjoy making me comply with words alone. He abandoned the licking and started sucking my clit. My abdominal muscles started cramping the higher to my climax I ascended. Again and again I jolted up and thumped back down on my cushion, gasping, "Dima, help me, I can't, quiet, Dima, I'm coming, I'm--" He couldn't quite reach to put his hand over my mouth but I grasped his wrist and sucked his extended fingers into my mouth.

My body went rigid and started to shake. My vision blackened and cold shivers covered my arms and back. I clamped my mouth on Dima's fingers, determined not to let any sound escape - for Pete's sake we were out on the balcony of a suburb tower block. My scream of ecstasy would echo from the other buildings and bring everyone to their balconies. So, with his fingers in my mouth, hips bucking, I held my breath.

He kept to a regular rhythm and started humming against my clit. That buzzing was the last drop and I convulsed and cramped, thrashing on the blankets. I pressed my thighs together to protect my oversensitive clit from any further stimulation and his head got caught, but he pulled himself free to watch the results of his efforts. I pounded my head in the cushion and my heels on the concrete floor. My hips gyrated randomly and my grip on his wrist must have been painful.

The electricity-like currents tore in me for some seconds, but in my head those moments elongated. Finally my muscles relaxed and I let my limbs fall limp on the blankets. I opened my mouth to breathe and freed his hand; the senses gripping electrocution feeling had let go. What was left was the lull of total emptiness, mindlessness, weightlessness and I lay on my balcony, writhing faintly and giggling like an idiot. Dima lay down beside me and observed in fascination how I was immersed in the tidal wave of tiny sparks he could never see.

***

Seeing me cum so hard had left his mind in a stir. We carried the blankets and covers back in and I fell on my bed absolutely exhausted. I'd never had this much physical activity within 24 hours and my body was done for. I was in urgent need of sleep, but Dima approached the bed and I could tell that something was different and I wasn't going to like it.

His voice emotionless, he told me to turn on my stomach. I sat up to face him and though I tried to sound neutral my words came out pissed. "Dima, I want to sleep. I don't want any more. Understand? This isn't funny. I need sleep." He adopted a collected air and came closer. He took hold of my chin and repeated his order with the same cold tone but eyes blazing. I wasn't up for any games and snapped at him, "Hey, I said I don't want to. I'm going to sleep." I shoved at his hand, "Understand?"

I'd angered him and he grabbed me by the hair and leaned his face to almost touch me. "It's your choice. Don't force me to tie you up baby. You want me to use the hood again?" All defiance went out of me and avoiding his eyes I shook my head. This was a drastic change to the Dima on the balcony, the man that had enveloped me in soft touches. "Now sweetie, we don't want to wake up your neighbours." He put a pair of scrunched-up panties against my lips and I -- already resigned to defeat -- listlessly took the bundle in my mouth like a horse accepting a bit. He had a piece of string ready and he tied it around my head to secure the gag in place. "Good girl, now get on your hands and knees." I didn't understand this in Russian, but he arranged my body on all fours, and I let him.

His heavy palm rested on the back of my head. He nudged gently and I bent my arms and lowered my head to rest on them. He took hold of my wrists and tugged, and I yielded and let him pull my arms straight back until my hands were beside my knees. My hips were thrust up and my weight resting uncomfortably on my shoulders. My cheek was pressed hard on the mattress and my neck was strained.

"Please don't be rough, I'm so hurt," I whimpered through the fabric filling my mouth. He nudged my thighs wanting me to spread them. I spread a little and even more of my weight shifted on my shoulders to bear. It was difficult to acknowledge that it was Dima and me there on the bed. It was us on the balcony too, but we'd stepped through the mirror again and become the dark twisted versions of ourselves.

I had bought the dildo from internet knowing it was large. When it arrived I was stunned to see the true size of it. It was as thick as my forearm and, with his vicious streak in control, Dima chose it. He applied pressure on it relentlessly, until my bruised pussy stretched to accommodate the object. I groaned loudly to my gag when he forced it in. I was terribly hurt after his rough fucking on the night before and even more so after the torture with the inflatable dildo. When the monster stopped at my cervix and would go no further, Dima told me to push it out. I shook my head and pleaded, but it was futile when he was like that. I was so alone. I couldn't get through to him and his cruelty brought tears into my eyes. Before when he'd hurt me he'd at least done so with passion, making it personal and intimate. Now he treated me like he had on the sofa: detached, uncaring, like I was nothing and no-one.

Moaning in pain I did as I was told and pushed; slimy and with traces of blood the dildo lunged out of me. When the end of it rested on his palm, he let out an ominous shush and rammed the thing back in punching me in the gut with it. I screamed out in pain and shock until the punch took my voice.