Thought Catalog
August 7, 2014

How A Normal Girl Like Me Became Somebody’s Sex Slave

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I thought I was looking for a boyfriend when I set up my online dating profile.

I’d never had much luck with dating. It wasn’t that I wasn’t interested — I’d always loved men. Dating them was fun, the balance between a mans personality and my own feminine one was electric, it kept things interesting. But for whatever reason it never lasted very long. I’d do things like leave town for days without telling him or bringing my phone, or stay in bed with a book all day and forget to answer his texts.

It just wasn’t second nature for me to be tied down and predictable.

When I met Paul online I expected the same cycle to occur. We met up at the corner dive bar where I prefer to meet all my first dates. He complimented my lip color — it’s always a great sign when a man isn’t intimidated by lipstick. He asked me about my writing and he told me about messing around with a popular edgy publication when he went to college with the founder but now he had to keep his distance because he’s a lawyer and the legal world is super conservative.

I told him that was too bad, the idea of a guy being associated with something somewhat dangerous was exciting. He smiled mischievously and said, “You have no idea.”

Girls don’t need tricks to get guys to come home with them at the end of dates but I happen to have an excellent one anyway: I live in a condo along the river in my city. A walk along the river is the perfect nightcap to any date and the guy will always walk me up afterwards, “to make sure I get home safe .”

So Paul was sitting on my bed while I made some drinks and thought about whether I wanted to have sex with him that night. I was attracted to him, sure, he was broad shouldered and tall with dark hair and dark eyes I couldn’t stop staring into. There was no strong reason not to, I figured, but we may as we’ll wait another date in case he was one of those guys that’s weird about first date sex.

That changed fairly quickly.

I handed him his drink and he announced, “I’m going to enjoy this drink while you suck my cock.”

“Excuse me?!?” I couldn’t have possibly heard him correctly.

“This looks like a great drink, and it’s going to be even better while you’re blowing me.” He stopped to take in my negative expression and lifted my head with a single finger under my chin. “A girl like you can make a man really happy. You want that, it’s what makes you special.”

I couldn’t deny that he had some sort of power over me at this point. The way he was controlling the situation turned me on and his hand caressing my face stirred up a familiar feeling in my abdomen.

What did I have to lose?

So I obliged him. I set my drink down and kneeled before him, unzipping his pants.

I wasn’t surprised to find his cock was larger than average, it’s this way with most confident men, like a chicken and egg thing. I flicked my tongue over the head of his penis a few times before I began to take him in my mouth. He watched me cooly, taking a swig of his drink.

Inside somewhere, a deep need to impress him rose. I went to town. I kissed and licked and deep throated. I massaged the sweet spot at the tippy top of his shaft on the underside. I took his balls in my mouth and swirled my tongue around. I gave him my A-game and looked up, searching for approval written on his face. It was there, but not as fully as I’d hoped for.

“To completion,” he reminded me.

I slid my hands down his forearms and the grasped his hands, depositing them on the back of my head. This wasn’t one of my “moves”, I didn’t know what I was doing anymore. I was on autopilot now.

He had two fistfuls of my hair, one on each side of my head. He was gentle, but firm as he held me in place, thrusting his hips and pouring himself into my mouth. It was uncomfortable at first, I worried about gagging. But I heard him gasp as he slipped into my throat and I knew this was special for him — he was enjoying himself, losing control, losing himself to me.

I may have been the one kneeling on the floor, but he was at my mercy, he was in ecstasy, and he needed me to feel this way.

I held up my hands, showing him I wasn’t going to resist and he groaned loudly in excitement. He thrust faster into my mouth, careful to make his movement fluid. This time I felt his grip tighten on my hair as he didn’t allow his dick to slide back out of my mouth. He held me there. I could feel him tensing up so I made an extra effort to hold this position, and I was rewarded with his loudest groan yet and a mouthful of salty cum.

I swallowed and licked my lips. I felt satisfied somehow.

He grinned and stared down at me. “I told you you would like it.”

He laid down on my bed and I instantly curled up next to him. I felt happy and comfortable. With my head on his chest I reached up and began massaging his scalp, my sudden need to please this man had not been satiated.

“What do you want?” I asked him.

“I want to come over two or three times a week and stand over you and fuck your throat. I don’t want to jerk off anymore.”

I gulped. This was definitely not what I was looking for. It was sleazy. “What if I want more than that?”

“But you don’t want more. You just think you’re supposed to want more. Did you hear yourself earlier? You told me you don’t like being tied down. And look at you, look at how your body responded to being my sex slave.”

He quickly reached down and knocked my thighs apart. Before I could register what he was doing his fingers were inside me and my back was arched. Holy shit, I gasped as he masterfully, rhythmically rubbed my gspot with the tips of his fingers.

I looked down at him to see that he was hard again, and grinned.

He got up and kneeled between my legs and pulled me up, so my butt was resting on his thighs, legs wrapped around his waist.

“I am going to fuck you and then we’ll sleep here together and you’ll see. This is better than dating — to give ourselves to each other completely.”

I nodded. This was exciting, and what else was I going to do tonight?

He grabbed his drink off the nightstand and poured a bit into my mouth before kissing me and sucking the taste of whiskey off my tongue. He trailed the dewey glass down my neck to my collarbone and I shivered. He took the remaining ice cube and deposited it in his mouth before leaning down and kissing my nipple. It was the most divine sensation, heat and ice.

I felt his hips move under mine and the his cock sliding around my wet pussy, but not entering. I always loved it when guys did this, the anticipation was unbearable, in an addictive way. It made time stand still.

“You’re such a good girl, Adrienne,” he mumbled as he kissed my neck, clearly enjoying himself. I lifted my hips to meet his and he drove his cock deep inside me. That moment — the first time it goes in — is always the best. It always reminds me why we do such crazy stuff for sex, it really is that good.

I’d consider his offer later. He didn’t need an answer now. He just needed me to be here, writhing with pleasure as he had his way with me. TC mark