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I scoffed. “For real?”
“Yeah.” His eyes darkened. “Got a problem with that?”
“No?”
“Good.”
I gathered up my blanket, pondering so many things—whether what Luke and I had done felt right, trying to picture Windy as a Dom, and wondering why he wanted to try it. I thought about Luke’s sister Betsy and whether I wanted to meet her, and what it meant about me and Luke if I did. I wondered if I could convince him to fuck me the way he had the other day and then, afterward, take me into his basement and beat me for it. A punishment for letting him love me.
My brain was in complete overload by the time I arrived at mydorm room with my arms full of the big blanket.
I keyed open my room, and as I did, someone pushed me hard from behind. I let out anoomphas I tripped over the trailing end of the blanket and fell inside to the floor. Rolling over, heart pumping from adrenaline, I saw Kyle step over the threshold. He shut and locked my door behind him. His mouth was tight, and his eyes were wild as he shoved down his sweatpants and whipped out his hard cock.
“Suck it.”
I blinked, my mouth filling with saliva. My dick rose hard and fast against my jean skirt. I was already crawling toward him in a dazed, overcome instant, moving automatically.
With shaking hands, I reached for Kyle’s dick, and my mouth dropped open like I was a dog and Pavlov had conditioned me. Instantly, Luke’s face flashed into my mind. I saw him in his basement, shirtless, with his scary red whip, ready to beat me with it. Then I flashed back to the intimate fuck we’d shared in this very room the other night, and the fact that I hadn’t heard from him since his call the following day to check on me. It all sped through my brain faster than light as I took hold of Kyle’s dick.
With a satisfied grunt, Kyle grabbed my hair and shoved into my mouth.
Then he was using me.
I could have fought in any number of ways, but I felt paralyzed. He gripped my hair so hard that tears came to my eyes. When, after a few moments of gagging on his dick, I began to struggle, pushing against his thighs with both hands, he held me fast. One hand gripped the back of my neck, and the other alternated between holding my jaw to keep it open and slapping my face hard enough to sting. The tears that had already sprung to my eyes slipped down my cheeks.
“That’s right. Cocksucking bitch.”
I struggled against his thighs, trying to pull off his cock, but he gripped my head and pulled me forward until he was down in my throat, cutting off my air as he held me fast, my nose in his sweaty pubes.
“Die eating it,” he grunted, hunching so that his cock moved incrementally as I struggled for breath. “I fucking hate you, you piece of shit, faggot, whore.”
He pulled out then and hit me so hard I fell on my back against the blanket. I was disoriented by the strike—in the past he’d mainly kept to my body when landing punches—and as I tried to get my bearings, he pushed my jean skirt up and my tights and underwear down. He flipped me over. I barely had time to register the shift in position before his weight was on me.
I fought hard then, the memory of my father flashing in my mind—a similar weight and build as Kyle—and as he fit the head of his cock against my asshole and breached me painfully, I twisted and fought. He lurched forward, burying himself in my ass with a searing pain that made me feel sick. Covering my mouth with his hand, he started to thrust. Rage surged through me. I opened my mouth and bit the fleshy palm of his hand, clamping down hard.
Shouting, he punched the back of my head, and I almost blacked out, seeing stars. But when he pulled out of me, sitting back on his heels to inspect the damage to his hand, I rolled onto my back and spit in his face, another echo of my past. As he reached up to wipe the saliva from beneath his eye, I barked out, “I’ve got HIV, motherfucker. Hear me? I’ve got HIV.”
Kyle’s face paled before growing even more purple with rage. My gut dropped through the floor. He was going to kill me.
He grabbed my shirt and punched my face. Rising to his feet, he kicked me in the side twice before backing away in terror. He barely got his cock back in his sweatpants before he’d flung the door open and raced out of my room.
I panted on the floor, crying and trembling. Had I been raped? Had herapedme?
I didn’t know for sure. I thought so. But it wasn’t as if what he’d done to me was any different, or our interactions before I bit him at all dissimilar to what they’d been every other time before. It was just that this time,thistime I hadn’t wanted it.
But I hadn’t said no either. And every other time I hadn’t said no or yes.
There’d been plenty of interactions with Kyle that went down just like this, only they’d ended with me greedily sucking down his cum or taking it up the ass until I’d spunked too.
And if I didn’t want it, why hadn’t I fought back from the start? I knew Aikido. I’d won tournaments. I had that damn trophy. But I’d gotten up to my knees…I’d reached for his cock…I’d opened my mouth…
I shakily kicked my tights all the way off, straightened my skirt, padded barefoot to lock the door, and threw off my coat. I curled up on my bed, staring across the room. Just a few nights ago, I was in this bed with Luke, and I’d spent the last few days wondering if what we did was good, if it had even been sex to me.
This, though…
What just happened had recently been my baseline idea of a hot hook-up. I’d always considered what Kyle and I did consensual, even when maybe it wasn’t. I didn’t know anymore. I just knew I hadn’t come back to my dorm room expecting Kyle to be here, and yet…
Had this happened before I’d met Luke, I would have considered it a lucky encounter.
