It was 2016 and I was still heartbroken. After moving down to LA, I had just come out of a seven-year long relationship, complete with engagement, life plans, and cat. I lost the cat, too.
With money to burn and time to kill, I started getting involved in kink. I tried to master it like a skill, I did research, I experimented, I went to meetups and literally took classes. Eventually, it started paying off and I got something of a reputation.
It was around this time that my consistent hookup Willa (from my first story) said to me what every guy longs to hear: “I want you to fuck my friend.” Before this, I had considered myself kind of a dud who was lucky to be in the relationship I had. However, after working out constantly for a year, I had put on some muscle, learned how to dress, and actually had, god forbid, some swagger. In many ways, though, I was still that nervous, insecure kid, so having my ego (and potentially my cock) stroked in that way was intoxicating.
Her friend was Mackenzie, was a USC girl who had strong [Alison Pill](https://www.reddit.com/r/Celebs/comments/u1r9f/alison_pill/) vibes. Not everybody’s cup of tea, but the innocent thing really works for me, soooo…
Turns out Willa, who is one of those hypersexual succubi who seems able to drag everyone’s sexual secrets out of them, had earlier been lamenting that she couldn’t find anyone she wanted to do non-consent scenes with. Mackenzie expressed an interest, then Willa met me, bing bang boom.
After an intro, Mackenzie and I chatted online, she communicated her desires, we set up boundaries, etc. As a rule, I don’t have sex with someone the first time I get naked with them. I just find it rules out some surprises, helps us get to know each other.
Mackenzie showed up at my front door around 10AM on a Wednesday, dressed like she was going to a meetup for retired librarians and visibly shaking, she was so nervous. I took her in, made her tea, we sat and talked together and she went home.
The next time she showed up was worse. It was late and she was tipsy, bordering on drunk. I drove her home and told her, in polite terms, to get her shit together if she wanted this to happen.
And she did. The next weekend, she came over and brought me some food, which I thought was a classy touch. We sat down and talked for a bit and, with warning, I kissed her. She moaned a little into my mouth and her whole body pushed against me. Immediately, her hands were clawing at my belt, but I slowed her down. Tonight, she was the star.
If there is one thing, literally one thing, I’m good at, it’s giving head. I’m good at it, because I studied it. I looked up articles, I checked out books from the library, I talked to my partners before and during to find out what they like (seriously, guys, there’s no shame in doing a little research. If you’re decent at it, you’d be amazed at the reactions you get cause the bar is SO low).
I also like the psychological aspect of giving head. I knew that Mackenzie was shy, and had repressed some of her dirtier instincts, so I started very gently, kissing my way down her body, licking around her pussy, teasing her, talking dirty to her, telling her how gorgeous it was. Then, slowly playing around the entrance to her cunt with my tongue before slowly sliding upwards. Being the good girl that she was, I kept the sloppiness to a minimum, blew hot air on her wet pussy, and generally treated her like she was a delicate work of art.
I did that so that she wouldn’t be prepared for what came next, when I hoisted her up and pinned her on her back, her knees by her shoulders. Two fingers were suddenly inside her, moving fast, pistoning in and out of her. My mouth was on her clit with broad strokes pressing in, and she was wailing and pressing into my back like she was trying to knead dough.
Gambits like that don’t always work, but thankfully this time, she was cumming almost immediately. Not from skill or from technique or because I’m a sex god or anything, just from psychologically overwhelming stimulus.
I spent the rest of the night between her legs and forbid her to touch me. All I wanted to do was build trust and get to know her body. And I did.
Over the next week we FaceTimed a few times and I got to know her better: San Francisco then USC, wanted to go into film but switched to communications, now wants to work in advertising, thoughtfully woke, and a devastating way of giggling and saying “um, I dunno” before she said anything vulnerable (she’s engaged now, and I hope the dude appreciates the way she does that).
We agreed on the big day for the non-consent scene: a week later. She shows up at my place again and we start moving slowly. I help her off with her jacket, I make her dinner, it’s like a date. Then she gives the word. She says, “I should probably go”.
“What, already?”
“Yeah, sorry, I just don’t feel like there’s a connection here.”
“I cooked you dinner.”
“I know and you’re so sweet, but I think I’d like you to take me home.”
“Just stay for dessert.”
“I said I’d like to go.”
“And *I* said stay for dessert.”
She went quiet for a second, and I wondered if I’d gone a little cartoony on that last line, if I’d overdone the menace. But she stared down and quietly said, “You’re scaring me.”
Ah, perfect.
The dessert was tiramisu. After putting it on the table, I stood directly behind her.
“Eat it.”
She didn’t move. I reached down and stroked her blond curls, then twisted my hand into a fist, grabbing a handful. With that leverage I pushed her face slowly down. She put up her hands, but I gathered them behind her back and held her. No hands for her, as I pushed her face into the cake. All she did was whimper, “please”.
I pressed a (butter) knife against the back of her neck. “Don’t move.” She stayed there as I removed her chair and pulled her hips up. She was bent over the table, her face in the plate, able to breathe through her nose.
The long skirt she was wearing was, we agreed, disposable, so I cut a long slit down the back, split it and had her gorgeous 22 year old ass on display in front of me. I already had a condom in my pocket, we were ready. Except for one thing.
“Beg me to fuck you.”
A pause, then, in a monotone. “Please fuck me.”
“Why do you want me to fuck you? I thought you weren’t into this date?”
Silence, until I smacked her ass hard enough to draw a welt. “I’m sorry.”
“So you *were* into it?”
“Yes.”
“And you were just being a stupid bitch?”
“Yes.”
“Say it.”
“I was being a stupid bitch. Oh god-“
She yelped as I shoved my cock inside her to the balls, as deep and hard as I could. I held it there.
“It’s OK”, I said, mocking her, “I actually had a great time tonight, too. In fact, I think… I think I’m in love with you.”
She was starting to cry now, so I checked her safe word. After the all clear, I continued.
“How do you feel about me?” I said, as I grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back painfully. Cake and tears dripped off her face.
“I love you. Please, you’re hurting me.”
“You *love* me? Wow, that’s forward of you.”
“Can I go now?”
“Why would you want to go? If you really love me, you’ll let me do whatever I want to you, right?”
(It’s amazing how stuff that would seem hopelessly hammy can work in a roleplay if you commit to it.)
That was the end of talking for a while, as I started to grind my hips against her, slowly, teasingly. She moaned and writhed and struggled, but I had her entirely in my hands. Literally, I held her entire body weight around her hips and her neck as she struggled, helpless in the air, like a fly on a pin.
Then I decided I’d had enough. I had originally planned to carry her to my bed, but the ground was good enough. I threw her down and paused, giving her a chance to scramble to her feet. It was time for predator/prey.
“I’m gonna give you a ten second lead. Ten… nine… eight…”
She took off running.
I caught her in the living room, naked and afraid. I had her ankle as she screamed and tried to scramble away, but I was much, much stronger. I pulled her to me slowly and inevitably, pinning first her legs, then one arm, then another. Then I was on top of her, then I was inside her.
She gasped and her eyes rolled back as I started pounding her. “Please don’t rape me oh god please don’t I can’t take it you’re hurting me please don’t I can’t get pregnant.”
The impregnating stuff had not been part of our plan, but I was wearing a condom so what was the harm. I started threatening her, telling her that I was gonna knock her up and she was gonna carry my rape baby.
It was exactly the kind of primal, predatory sex I like. We struggled against each other, covered in sweat, gasping and growling and mindless. I pinned her down and used her like a set of holes as I degraded her more and more, got nastier and meaner and rougher, leaving hand prints and bruises all over her body.
I have no idea how much time passed, but by the time I came, deep, deep inside her, we were physically wrecked. I got off her and walked away. Leaving her alone on the ground, shuddering, crying, sweating and ruined.
Five minutes later, I came back with a towel. We already had out aftercare plan in place, so I brought her to the shower and bathed her. She clung to me and let me move her, slowly coming back to life.
We ended the evening on the couch, watching The Court Jester (old Danny Kaye comedy, highly recommended). We ordered Indian food and I offered her the rest of the tiramisu. For some reason she didn’t want any.
(I know this isn’t yet about my brief time as a professional dom, but we’re getting there, I promise. PMs, chat, etc always open.)
Edit: fixing a link
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/hwpcut/my_time_as_a_proffessional_dom_mackenzie_cnc_food
More more! What happened after that? Was it an ongoing thing? Oh man, you have me on edge!