They had tried so hard to be clever. The gentle back and forth of flirting, a wry smile, fleeting touch. A gradual build up; that gentle coaxing of the flames from the embers, until that flame was too hot to touch, and yet, too hot to resist. They were meant to be elegant, their words weapons as they wrestled for status, playing for keeps in their sweet little game to assert their worth and worthiness upon one another.
So how had she ended up with her cheek pressed against the floor? His hand gripped her long hair and forced her against the ground, forcing a yelp from her lips as she felt him practically tear off her clothes. She whined like an animal, struggling against his grip, but he was stronger, holding her down, forcing her back against the rough carpet. This wasn’t the way they said the game would be played.
Her panties were torn from her, and a low chuckle escaped his lips. She already knew what it was, and a flush of hot shame burned through her, dragging a smug smile to her lips. She was wet, her body showing off what her words struggled to articulate. She could hear him unclasp his belt, and in turn her eyes fluttered shut, licking her lips in anticipation. If playing coy about her wants, her needs, was part of the game, she really had no interest in playing.
He had just enough courtesy to make the first moment count. She moaned; loud enough that he lunged forward to cover her mouth, muffling her rapture as she felt each inch of his cock slowly slide inside her. It forced her open, and claimed her most intimate space; somewhere only lovers should touch, somewhere she was taught to keep safe at all costs. It violated her. She didn’t even need him to say it. Slut. Whore. Sex-addict. She let her mind sink into the gutter, and immersed herself in these words. As his pace picked up, she slid into her cum-drunk stupor.
When he wrapped a hand around her neck, she managed a breathless chuckle, and she could practically feel her partner’s surprise. Grinning, she managed to turn her head just enough to look him in the eye, and raised a hand to the one around her neck. Never faltering in her gaze, she gripped that hand, and squeezed. Harder. Choke me harder.
In that moment, all the things she wanted to say came to her, only to die on her air-starved lips. Use me. Break me. Breed me. Own me. Hurt me. Cliches? Perhaps. But she meant every last word. So when he did just that, gripping her hair only to snarl like some beast, cumming deep inside her, she felt her body shudder in kind, twisting beyond her control, letting go of even the faintest vestige of control as pleasure burst through her.
She was back in the room. Her eyes were hooded and her limbs trembled with even the smallest movement. Had they even used a condom? She hoped so. Her broken mind tried to put together the pieces, her wobbly arms barely able to support her as she tried her best to roll onto her back, looking breathlessly up at the man now kneeling next to her. He looked concerned; cute. Maybe this isn’t how you were meant to play the game; but…It was always more fun making up your own rules.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/nppyz8/the_game_mf