My Dark Fantasy [M/F] [Sexual Tension] [Sub/Dom]

I split up with my long-term partner about 6 months ago and it’s been a surreal time for me. After 4 years of sleeping next to the same person, it’s strange to be waking up alone. The experience leaves you feeling quite hollow, but at the same time it comes with a certain sense of relief. We ended on amicable terms and I miss him desperately, but I’m thankful to have my freedom back.

After all, at the age of 31, I’m still a young woman, and our monthly ritual of vanilla intercourse wasn’t doing it for me. We’ve managed to stay friends though, and we meet up for coffee about as often as we used to have sex, which makes me laugh now that I think about it. Anyway, this story isn’t about him. This is the story of how I discovered a part of myself that I never knew existed. It all began after I signed up to a specialised dating website.

 

Bear in mind that I haven’t been single for a long time, so online dating was a bold new frontier for me. After 6 months of disappointing matches and lacklustre dates, I was about ready to give up. That was until I went to visit a friend.

Most of my friends are married with children now or are in long term relationships, but we try to meet up semi-regularly to share a bottle of wine and complain about our boyfriends, spouses, children, or whoever else might be rubbing us up in all the wrong ways. During one such meeting, we were on my friend’s couch in a drunken haze and watching some schlocky horror movie when Hannah piped up.

 

“Hey Alyssa,” she turned to me, the wine sloshing in her glass as she moved, “you’re so lucky you get to be single again. Getting to go out on dates, riding all kinds of dick…” She chuckled and hiccupped, causing wine to spill from her glass onto the carpet.

“Hannah, watch yourself,” Lauren, whose house we were staying at, loomed over her and lifted the glass out of her hand, “I swear to god, this is like the eighth time you’ve gotten wine onto my carpet.”

“It’ll be fine,” Hannah slurred, waving her hand in a dismissive gesture, “it’s white wine.”

“Are you still using those dating apps?” Morgan said, trying to speak over the din that Hannah was making as she wrestled for control over her glass of wine.

“I guess,” I shrugged, pulling my phone out of my pocket and gazing at my reflection in that black screen, “I haven’t really had much luck to be honest. The guys are either creeps or fuck-boys. It’s not even that I mind the fuck-boys so much, since I’m only looking for something casual anyway, but they’re just so full of themselves, and the sex is always terrible.”

“That reminds me,” Lauren said, holding the glass above her head as Hannah clawed for it in a pantomime gesture, “after you told me about your shitty experience with that guy Derek, I went looking for a few new dating sites, and I found this.” She placed the glass on the coffee table in front of us and Hannah grasped it with both hands, pulling it towards her mouth greedily.

She took her phone out and, after a few smooth swipes, she pulled up a website. It was called *Dark Fantasy*. I peered into the screen and read the homepage. It was a website for people interested in sub/dom or BDSM hook-ups.

“Why do you think I’d be into that kind of stuff?” I stammered, my shoulders tensing and beads of cold sweat forming on my brow.

“I didn’t think you were,” Lauren shrugged, and my muscles relaxed, “it just looked kind of intriguing.” In one swift motion, Hannah launched herself off the couch and snatched the phone out of Lauren’s hand.

“Oh, this looks like fun,” Hannah said, her nose practically touching the screen, “you should sign up.” Before Lauren could retrieve her phone, Hannah had passed it to Morgan, who was busy scrutinising the fine print.

“If I were single, I’d do it,” Morgan said, a hunger flashing in her eyes, “plus, what have you got to lose?”

“I’m not really familiar with that kind of stuff,” I rubbed the back of my neck with the palm of my head.

“Come on, just sign up,” Hannah said, going down on her knees and mock-begging, “let us sad old maids live vicariously through you.”

I could feel all of their eyes trained on me and my face flushed with heat.

“Okay fine,” I said, tapping the passcode into my phone and bringing up the website, “but, if anyone asks, you guys forced me into it.”

“Yes,” Hannah clapped her hands together with glee, “now, let’s make your profile.”

For the next two hours, my friends and I crafted my profile page with a meticulous attention to detail. I swear, they enjoyed the process far more than I did. I spent most of the time taking sips of my wine and trying not to fall asleep. In my head, I’d delete the profile the next day and it would all become a distant memory. How was I to know that soon I would get sucked down a rabbit hole far darker than I had ever anticipated.

 

The next morning, I awoke with a pounding headache and blurred vision. I blinked and rubbed my eyes before grabbing my phone. It was 11am. Whenever we had our girls’ sleepover, I was always the last one to get up. I slid my legs out from under the covers, went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and made my way downstairs. I was met by the smell of freshly toasted bread and the tinkling sound of laughter.

“Morning sleepy head,” Morgan said with a wry smile.

As I approached, Lauren slid a plate across the counter towards me.

“Peanut butter on one slice and jam on the other,” Lauren said, turning her back to me as the toaster popped yet again.

“You remembered,” I smiled, dragging the plate towards me and picking up one of the slices.

“A weird breakfast for a weird girl,” Lauren said, but I could sense the affection in her voice.

“So,” Hannah shoved herself into my field of vision, speaking in a sing-song voice, “did you get any responses?”

“Responses to what?” in my dazed state I had forgotten about the wine-fuelled escapades of the previous night.

“On that website, whatever it’s called,” Hannah waved her hands in a series of frantic gestures and pointed at my phone.

“*Dark Fantasy*,” Morgan said, taking a sip of her black coffee as she spoke, “it’s called *Dark Fantasy*.”

“Oh yeah,” I slid my phone out of my hoody pocket and checked the website. Like the spray of bullets from a machine gun, Hannah had sent out messages to what looked like dozens of guys.

Running my finger along the screen, I scrolled through the responses.

“How many guys did you message last night?” I turned my attention to Hannah and furrowed my brow.

“You need a wide net to catch the best fish,” Hannah winked at me and then, with the grace of a fox, slipped the phone out of my hand, “woah, you’ve gotten loads of replies.”

She loomed over the screen, seeming to devour each message with her eyes. I let out a sigh, but I had to admit that I enjoyed the attention. It was sweet that my friends cared so much about my waning sex life.

I was about to continue eating when the screen was shoved into my face.

“This guy looks hot,” Hannah cried out, shooting forward with such fervour that she nearly fell off of her stool. I took the phone from her hand and zoomed in on the guy’s photo. His name was Jason. She was right, he was pretty hot. He had this sort of modern goth look that I’ve always found quite attractive. I blushed deep and I heard Hannah laugh.

“What did you say to him?” I said, but Hannah would only smile and roll her eyes. I went back to my messages and felt a lump form in my throat. Hannah had written:

 

*I am a sexy young woman who wantsx to learn MORE abut the BDSSM. I am a sub. If you are a dom, plz reply back and teach me stuff. Luvv, Alyssa xxx*

 

I was mortified. I half-expected his reply would be to either tell me to fuck off or ask if it was a joke, but the response sent a jolt of electricity up my spine:

 

*If you really want to learn what it means to be a sub and you’re interested in being broken in, call me.*

 

He had signed off the message with a mobile number.

“You have to call him,” Hannah said. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she had started frothing at the mouth.

“I second that,” Morgan said, her coffee cup still pressed to her lips.

“Just be careful,” Lauren said, her back still to me as she washed the dishes, “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

 

That afternoon, I was lying in bed listening to music and staring into the screen of my phone. Should I call him? What would I say to him? Would I tell him that it had all been a joke; an alcoholic frenzy inspired by my horny friend?

In the end, I decided to text him.

*Hey, it’s Alyssa*, it read. *I’m sorry about that message I sent you. It was a friend’s idea. I promise I’m not really that weird.*

I waited for about twenty minutes. No response. With a huff, I rolled onto my back and threw my phone to the bottom of the bed. I knew it.

I was about to get up and mark some homework from that week when I felt the vibration between my legs. I shot up and grabbed the phone. From the notification, I could tell it was him. He had sent me a photo.

With bated breath, I opened the message. It was his driver’s license, followed by the message:

 

*I’m free this afternoon. If you’re still interested in learning more, come over.*

 

I zoomed in on the driver’s license and looked up his address. He lived about a 20-minute walk away from my apartment. Should I go?

Pacing up and down my bedroom, I agonised over the decision. I had no idea who this guy was. Wasn’t it dangerous to just go to a stranger’s house? Then again, it was in broad daylight, and I could send his driver’s license to one of my friends as a safeguard. But what if that wasn’t actually him in the driver’s license? A chaos of thoughts swirled around my head.

In the end, my instinct overtook me.

I sent the photo to Lauren, threw on my zip-up hoody, and headed out of the door. It wasn’t until I was about halfway down the road that I realised I didn’t even have any make-up on.

 

When I arrived at the address on the license, I looked up to find pristine walls and wide windows. I had heard about the new luxury apartment complexes they had thrown up around here, but this was my first time seeing them. I summed up all of my courage and pressed the doorbell.

I heard a click of the receiver, but no one spoke.

“It’s Alyssa,” I said into the speaker. There was a pause and then a loud buzzing sound as the door was unlocked. I pushed my way inside and made my way up the stairs to Flat 10.

Before I had a chance to knock, the door opened and there he was, standing in the doorway. He was leaning against the side of the door. He was slim and muscular, with pale skin and thick veins running visible down his arms. As he loomed over me, I was struck by how tall he was. He must have been well over six foot.

He brushed his shoulder-length black hair out of his face and I noticed that his nails had been painted black. In fact, his entire outfit was made up of monochrome colours, much like my own. Dressed down as he was in a pair of jeans and some sort of band t-shirt, it made me feel less out of place. He gave me a once over with those piercing dark brown eyes before moving out of the way and gesturing for me to come inside.

“Please, come in,” his voice was far deeper than I was expecting, and there was a certain coarseness to it that made the hairs on my arms stand on end.

“Thank you,” I nodded and went inside. I walked into what I thought must have been the dining room. There was a small kitchen off to the right and a table with chairs at the centre of the room. Light from those pure glass windows cascaded across the wooden flooring.

The decoration was sparing, with only a few images hung on the walls and a lone cactus sat on the windowsill. As I gazed up at one of the frames on the wall, I realised that it was a poster for an old horror movie that I loved. Letting my eyes roam around the room, it turned out that all of the wall hangings were posters of some kind.

I saw him in the periphery of my vision as he circled around me and landed hard in one of the dining chairs.

“You can sit down, if you like,” he said, gesturing to one of the chairs. I took the seat next to his, although with enough space that our legs weren’t touching. “So, what kind of experience do you have?”

“What do you mean?” I said. I was out of my depth and that sense of embarrassment crept back up through me.

“Have you ever done any sub/dom stuff before?” he spoke in a methodical way that, in spite of my awkwardness, put me at ease.

“Well, one of my boyfriends tried choking me once during sex,” I said, looking away as I recalled the memory, “but it really hurt and it ended up giving me a sore throat, so we didn’t do it again.”

“Then he was doing it wrong,” he said, his eyes fixed on me as he spoke, like a wolf sizing up a lamb. He raised his hand and let it hover in front of my neck. “May I?”

I deliberated for a few moments before nodding. He placed his thumb and forefinger on either side of my neck just below my jawline. I was struck by the cold sting of his metal rings against my skin. In one deft movement, he applied a small amount of pressure onto both sides of my neck and a wave of dizzying pleasure washed over me.

With his fingers still positioned under the crook of my jaw, he stood up and guided me onto my feet.

“Get on your knees,” he said, and there was an edge to his voice that was too delicious. I looked towards the floor and sunk down onto my knees. The hard wood knocked against bone, sending a jolt through me as I lowered each leg down.

Releasing the pressure, he cupped his hand under my chin.

“Look at me,” he said. I let my eyes roam up his body until they locked onto his. For the first time since we’d met, he cracked a smile. “You have beautiful eyes.”

He ran his thumb along my lips and slid it into my mouth. I could taste the chipped nail polish and the salt on his skin. I was thankful to be on my knees, because my legs were shaking. I squeezed my thighs together in an attempt to contain myself.

When he slipped his thumb out, I lurched forward and found myself inches away from his crotch. When I looked up at him, he seemed disinterested, but the tension in his black jeans told a different story.

“Don’t touch,” he said, wagging his finger in my face. I was clutching the sides of my thighs, my fingernails digging into my skin. I licked my lips. It took all of my self-control not to reach for his zipper. “Now stand up.”

I rose up off the floor like a new-born deer, my legs trembling and barely able to hold my weight. I was breathless, and the skin of my cheeks was hot to the touch.

“Okay,” I said, reaching out for the table to steady myself.

“Okay?” he said, placing a hand under my forearm to help me up. He guided me back into the chair.

“That was,” a quivering desire continued to ripple up my inner thighs, “interesting.”

“Interesting?” he let out a short laugh, which had the same raspy quality as when he spoke, “I’ll take it.”

“So, what now?” I said, my eyes clouding over as I gazed into his.

“Now, you go home,” he said, that same smile dancing across his face, “have a think about it. Do some research. Come back to me in a week. If you’re still interested, we can see where this goes.”

He stood up and held out a hand. I placed my palm in his and the coolness of it made my hips twitch. He led me back to the front door and opened it for me.

“Just so you know, I usually have a few subs on the go at the same time,” he said, leaning against the side of the door once again, “in case that bothers you.”

“No, no,” I said, shaking my head, “I’m not looking for anything serious.”

“That’s good,” he said, biting his lip, “oh, and one more thing.” He lent forward so that his mouth was level with my ear. The touch of his hot breath on my skin made my eyes flicker.

 

“When I fuck you,” he whispered, “you’ll feel it.”

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/k88hmv/my_dark_fantasy_mf_sexual_tension_subdom