Relieved by the simple task, I gladly obey, closing my lips around the thick column of his sex. He tastes like salt and man, the tip of his shaft damp with pre-cum, and some of my anxiety fades, edged out by growing desire. I love pleasuring him like this, and as Julian’s grip on my wrist slackens, I use both hands to cup his balls, kneading and massaging them with firm pressure.

He groans, closing his eyes, and I begin to move my mouth back and forth, using a sucking motion to bring him deeper into my throat each time. The way he holds my hair hurts my scalp, but the discomfort only enhances my arousal. Julian was right when he said I have masochistic tendencies. Whether by nature or by nurture, I get off on pain now, my body craving the intensity of these types of sensations.

Looking up at him, I drink in the tortured expression on his face, enjoying the small taste of power he allows me.

Today, though, he doesn’t let me set the pace for long. Instead he pushes his hips forward, forcing his cock further into my throat, and I gag, spitting up some saliva. That seems to please him, and he mutters thickly, “Yes, that’s it, baby,” opening his eyes to watch me as he begins to fuck my face with a hard, relentless rhythm. I choke again, and more saliva dribbles out, coating my chin and his cock with viscous moisture.

He releases me then, but before I can catch my breath, he pushes me down on the mat, face first, causing me to fall onto my hands. Then he gets behind me, and I feel him pulling my shorts and underwear down to my knees. My sex clenches in hungry anticipation . . . but that’s not where he wants me today. It’s the other opening that holds his attention, and I tense instinctively as I feel the head of his cock pressing between my cheeks.

“Relax, my pet,” he murmurs, grasping my hips to hold me in place as he begins to push in. “Just relax . . . Yes, there is a good girl . . .”

I take small, shallow breaths as I try to follow Julian’s advice, fighting the urge to tighten up as he slowly begins to penetrate my ass. I know from experience this will hurt a lot less if I’m not so tense, but my body seems determined to fight this intrusion. After months of abstinence, it’s almost as if I’m a virgin there again, and I feel a heavy, burning pressure as my sphincter is forcefully stretched open.

“Julian, please . . .” The words come out in a low, pleading whisper as he ruthlessly pushes deeper, the saliva coating his cock acting as makeshift lube. My insides twist, and sweat breaks out all over my body as the tight ring of muscle finally gives in, letting his massive cock slide all the way in. Now he’s throbbing deep inside me, making me feel unbearably full, engulfed and overtaken.

“Please what?” he breathes, sliding one muscular arm under my hips to hold me in place. At the same time, his other hand grabs my hair again, forcing my body to arch backwards. The new angle deepens the penetration, and I cry out, beginning to shake. It’s too much, I can’t take it, but Julian is not giving me a choice. This is my punishment, being fucked like an animal on a dirty mat, with no care or preparation. It should make me feel sick, killing all traces of desire, but somehow I’m still turned on, my body eager for whatever sensations Julian chooses to dole out. “Please what?” he repeats, his voice low and rough. “Please fuck me? Please give me more?”

“I . . . I don’t know . . .” I can hardly speak, my senses overwhelmed. He stills then, not moving, and I’m grateful for that small mercy, as it gives me a chance to adjust to the brutal hardness lodged within me. I try to steady my breathing, to relax, and the pain gradually begins to lessen, transforming into something else—a sizzling heat that permeates my nerve endings.

He starts to move again, his thrusts slow and deep, and the heat intensifies, centering low in my core. My nipples tighten, and a rush of wetness inundates my sex. Despite the discomfort, there is something perversely erotic about being taken like this, about being possessed in a way that’s so dirty and forbidden. Closing my eyes, I begin to get into the primal rhythm of his movements, the thrust and drag that makes my insides churn with agony and pleasure. My clit swells, becoming more sensitive, and I know it will take only a few light touches to make me come, to relieve the tension building within me.

But he doesn’t touch my clit. Instead his hand releases my hair and slides down to my neck. Then he grips my throat, forcing me to rise up so that I’m standing on my knees, my back slightly arched. My eyes pop open and my hands automatically fly up, clutching at his strangling fingers, but there’s nothing I can do to loosen his hold. In this position, he’s even deeper inside me, and I can barely breathe, my heart beginning to pound with a new, unfamiliar fear.

He leans forward then, and I can feel his lips brushing against my ear. “You are mine for the rest of your life,” he whispers harshly, the warmth of his breath making my skin prickle with goosebumps. “Do you understand me, Nora? All of you—your pussy, your asshole, your fucking inner thoughts . . . It’s all mine to use and abuse as I will. I own you, inside and out, in every way possible . . .” His sharp teeth sink into my earlobe, causing me to gasp at the sudden pain. “Do you understand me?” There is a dark note in his voice that scares me. This is new—he’s never done this to me before—and my pulse soars sky-high as his fingers tighten around my throat, slowly but inexorably cutting off my air supply.

Rising panic sends adrenaline surging through my veins. “Yes . . .” I manage to rasp out, my fingers now clawing at his hand, trying to pry it away. To my horror, I start seeing stars, the room blurring and going dark in front of my eyes. Surely he doesn’t mean to kill me . . . Surely he doesn’t mean to kill me . . . I am terrified, yet for some strange reason, my sex throbs and electric shivers run over my skin as my arousal spirals inexorably higher.