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                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
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Raw Edge
by The Relic (ktrelic@yahoo.com)

***

Based on a true story; the awakening moment of a man 
who has been dominated his entire life by a woman. He 
finally takes control in a big way, to her surprise and 
his pleasure. (MF, dom, nc, rp)

***

The raw and open wound of my life had just scabbed over 
a bit. I'd held my guts in while my entrails wanted to 
spill out my body and trail behind me for a long time, 
until they finally started staying in themselves. My 
woman had disemboweled me pretty well and taken me to 
the proverbial cleaners all at the same time. A broken 
heart goes well with a broken man don't you know.

But I defied it. My woman was fucking someone else, 
leaving me, and taking all my money. My business was 
falling into ruin around me due to my inattentiveness 
and the general incompetence of my business partner. My 
friends drifting away slowly but inevitably; their own 
lives taking up much increased importance as I 
deteriorated. After all, it's no fun to watch someone 
piss themselves and sit in it, which was effectively 
what was happening to me. I still said fuck it. I 
wasn't going to just lay down and die! Kick me, and I 
bleed; but you'd better run afterwards.

Then She breezed into my life once more, like a breath 
of fresh air redolent with spring fresh scents, but 
when you inhale deeply you realize that it's just that 
cheap Glade you spray to cover up the shit you just 
took; but I get ahead of myself. I'd met her nearly 
twenty years before, as a very young man who was taken 
in by her old money style, distracting charm and not 
inconsequential physical attributes.

I hadn't seen her in years, but there she was one day 
on my doorstep. Amazing how the years seem to melt away 
in an instant, like all that time you'd spent apart had 
just been practice for the next time you saw one 
another.

"So I hear you're single again." She said in way of 
greeting. She smiled not so coyly and brushed past me 
into my apartment uninvited, knowing she wouldn't need 
one. I'd always welcomed her, even though she had been 
poison to my psyche. It was something I always needed 
but secretly dreaded, sort of like getting a really big 
enema for your soul. You feel all stopped up inside and 
the cure is unpleasant but boy does it feel great when 
its over.

She went to my kitchen and poured us a couple of 
drinks. I watched her, amused at my own past 
willingness to participate in her particular brand of 
madness. She picked her drink up and swigged a good 
part of it, then lit a cigarette, looking at me over 
the flames. Smoke curled up lazily to the ceiling past 
her half-expectant face and arrogant eyes.

I picked up the drink she'd made for me and smiled back 
at her. "So, news travels fast in the land of the 
damned." I'd only moved out of my house two days before 
leaving it and everything else to my soon to be ex-
wife. I continued looking at her face; A nice face to 
look at. Her dark brown eyes were wide in her 
attractive face and I had always appreciated what I was 
looking at. She'd aged, but in that graceful beautiful 
way that some women have the ability to do. My physical 
attraction to her had always been one of my downfalls.

"I heard it through the grapevine." Oh how I knew that 
grapevine so very, very well. It was responsible for a 
lot of hard facts that had come my way lately. I 
grimaced. I was finding her a bit hard to take after 
all. I put the drink down.

"What do you want Sandra? I haven't seen you in a very 
long time." I came right to the point. I had changed 
since I had last seen her, more than she knew.

"You," she said just as plainly. I was impressed. Her 
bluntness was new. I wasn't used to it but it allowed 
me to segue to what I was going to do next.

"Is that right? Are you sure?" I grabbed her hair and 
pulled her face to mine, closely to look in her eyes. I 
grabbed her drink and cigarette with my other hand and 
dropped them to the floor, the liquid and ice spilling 
out onto the linoleum floor like vital fluids from a 
hit and run victim. I could see fright in her eyes, the 
first time I had ever seen that from this woman who had 
always been in the drivers seat in our on-again off-
again relationship.

"What are you doing?" She said lamely. I could smell 
the tobacco and vodka on her breath, her face was 
close.

"What I should have done years ago." I said simply and 
then kissed her roughly. Shoving her ahead of me I 
pushed her into the front room and over my couch. I 
held her down as I lifted her skirt, an elegant number 
that spoke volumes of what kind of woman she was and 
the money she came from. I had always appreciated that 
about her, she sure knew how to dress. Not that it 
mattered for my purposes today.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Real anger was in her 
voice now as she realized events had transcended far 
beyond her expectations. I ignored her as I put my hand 
gently to her delicate off-white silk panties and 
appreciated the smooth feel of them in my hand as I 
ripped them off of her roughly. They ripped easily and 
it probably hurt her a little bit. She was half in 
shock and indignant at this time. It was one thing when 
she was riding the horse, but now the horse appeared to 
be trying to ride her.

"This isn't funny. I didn't come over here to have sex 
with you. I thought you might want a friend to..." her 
tirade died off as she realized I wasn't paying 
attention. I had freed my hard cock and was holding her 
hair tightly. I put it up to her intending to take her 
forcefully, right then, right there. She began to 
struggle in earnest.

I jerked her hair up and looked into her face, my eyes 
no nonsense. I had changed much more than she had ever 
counted on. My philosophy had changed, my mind had 
changed, and my ass was indeed following. "I intend to 
fuck you like the little slut bitch you are. You're 
going to take it and I'm going to enjoy it." I grinned 
a little, feeling the unfamiliar beginnings of true 
happiness. I probably looked a little maniacal at the 
point. I know her face blanched as she saw the look in 
my eye, and the fright I saw made the act I was going 
to commit even more sweet and savory.

I entered her without further ado. She was wet; soaking 
wet. I knew then that I had been right about her. She 
was a whore down deep inside, one that needed a daddy 
to correct her wicked ways. I plunged into her 
joyfully, my cock ramming into her harder than I'm sure 
she'd ever been fucked. Her lovely brown hair in my 
hands made a fantastic handle as I rammed her so hard 
the couch was rocking back and forth. 

She was grunting now, all thoughts of rage gone in the 
shock of my entry and my brutal assault on her body. 
Her pussy was so wet I had no troubles pounding it with 
swift, sharp strokes. At some point I know she came 
hard, with involuntary little shrieks leaking out of 
her mouth. I fucked her this way for a good ten minutes 
or so before I came with tremendous force, the powerful 
feeling sweeping over me with incredible, swift joy.

When I was done I felt purged, like a heavy weight had 
been lifted from my back. I sighed with content and 
then let her hair go and backed off, zipping up my 
still wet cock. She lay where I left her, draped over 
the couch, her skirt falling halfway but not quite over 
her bare ass. Tears streamed down her face silently as 
she pulled her skirt down.

"How could you do that?" She said tearfully. I looked 
at her tear-streaked face and had the bad grace to 
laugh a little.

"I didn't ask you to come over here, slut. Now shut up 
and clean up your drink. It spilled." She looked at me 
in total shock. I had never treated her or spoken to 
her this way before. She looked a little dazed then 
stepped into the kitchen and mopped up the spilled 
drink. After she was done she left silently. I watched 
her with intended casualness, looking at her, waiting 
for a reaction. There was none.

Three days later, I heard the phone ring as I was 
sitting down to watch television. I answered it after 
three or four rings. It was her. She had a pleading 
sound in her voice that I had never heard before, and I 
knew then that the world had indeed turned.

"Can I please come over?"

END

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 37