Listening notes:
Fire (Cover) by Joan as Police Woman
The Story
“I’m going to ruin you,” she said, and the way she said it, she seemed to mean it. She was about six feet two tall in the frankly intimidating boots in which she stood, and she brandished his belt, which she had extracted from the loops of his jeans. She held the belt in a hoop and snapped it, making a crack; he smiled.
“You can wipe that fucking grin from your face as well, you worthless little cunt,” she intoned. “You summoned me here. I am here. I was going to have a pleasant day watering my flowers and stroking kittens and being idly happy, and then your message came in. And now here I am. You’re going to suffer.”
“Fuck yes!” He said. He hadn’t quite understood the ice and fire in her voice, and her reaction was harsh but fair. She swiped the belt round the air and caught him on the side of his head, knocking him over on the bed.
“Don’t be so fucking cocky. I’ll let you away with that one, but you disrespect my time or underestimate my fucking value again and I will fucking cut you, or I will leave, whichever makes you more upset. Do you understand?”
He stared straight ahead, with the look of a man blindsided. This isn’t what a Fetlife meet-up is supposed to be like. She continued.
“I can walk out of here and let you have a salty cry-wank to yourself. I don’t fucking care. So you can either decide to give me the gift of your frankly worthless submission, or you can decide this is a bit too spicy for you and you can get back to sliding into strangers’ DMs and praying for someone to come kiss you in the rain. Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he said, and bravely sat up on the bed again.
“Good. Good. I would hate to have wasted the day. So, now. What do you want to do?”
He began to speak, so she hit him with his belt again.
“Nah-ah, cunt. That was a trick. I don’t give a fiddler’s fuck what you want. You called me here, I’m going to use you. Why would I give a shit what you want?”
She leaned toward him, took his head tenderly in her hands and kissed him; her tongue so softly wet between his lips and against his own tongue, he felt himself needing that comfort and that intimacy far more than he had anticipated. She had her eyes open as she kissed him; she was satisfied by his complete trust. She kissed him for exactly forty five seconds, then withdrew and ran her fingernails along his jawline to his right ear, where she whispered:
“You better follow instructions to the fucking letter. And when I don’t give you instructions, you better read my fucking mind. Your job is to please me. And my job is to do whatever the fuck I want. And neither of us is being paid.”
She stood back and he nodded.
“Good boy. Now, you are far too dressed. Remove it. All of it. You have thirty seconds.”
He stood up and threw his clothes onto the floor by the bed.
“Weird. You should totally have folded those. But anyway. All of them. You’ve missed something.”
He reluctantly peeled off his underpants and threw them to the side of the bed. She lay down beside him and inspected him.
“You’ve shaved your pubes!” She laughed. “Why did you do that?”
“Well, I cycle…” he offered.
“Hilarious,” she said. “I know lots of cyclists. They don’t shave their pubes. You did that to make your dick look bigger.”
He realised he wasn’t going to get anywhere lying to her.
“Yes.”
“Yes, you did. And this is a fresh shave. You wanted your dick to look bigger to me. Tell the truth.”
“Yes. I wanted my dick to look bigger.”
“Oh dear. That counts as a lie.”
She took a fingernail and scraped it along his chest from nipple to nipple. It immediately made a red welt and his face looked like he might cry.
“Three strikes and you’re out. Don’t lie to me again. Clear?”
“Clear.”
She reached out and touched his flaccid dick.
“It’s average. It’s exactly average. It’s not big – and I’ve had a lot of big dicks, believe me, but it’s not too small. It’s not a challenge. Does that make you feel better? Would you like me to tell you that a small cock is what I desire? It’s not. I desire much more than a small cock. I need a man with a small cock who will cry when I tell him he has a small cock. But your cock is boringly average. I can’t even get much pleasure from telling you that. So you’re already a disappointment. I hope that helps.”
He nodded. “It doesn’t,” he replied.
“Good, good. I’m not here to help you. I’m here to ruin you, remember?”
“I remember.”
“Shall I tell you how I intend to ruin you?” She asked.
“Please do,” he said, with a sort of resigned boredom in his voice.
“Jesus H Christ. Try to pretend you’re interested. You might like this. Pay close attention.”
She jumped ont to the bed, crossed her legs. Those forbidding shoes laid between them.
“I intend to hurt you so severely, so intensely, and then to make you feel so comfortable and happy and blissful that at the end of our time together you will be entirely unable to function, sexually speaking, with any other woman without wishing it was me. I intend to rewire your brain so that the only food you desire to eat is food I have told you you can have, but in such a way that when you have that food it fills you and satisfies you like nothing you have ever tasted before. I intend to make it that you can only truly enjoy yourself when you think that doing so would please me.”
She stood again at the edge of the bed.
“This stuff isn’t easy. It takes time and pain taking effort. I happen to be an expert at it, which is why you contacted me. I’m going to ruin you such that the only pussy that tastes right to you is mine. And I’m going to ruin you such that every time I touch your face, your average little chubby middle aged face, you go giddy with an excitement you can’t control and you become desperate to have me touch you again. I’m going to ruin you such that when you see me out for dinner or in the theatre or in the queue you are going to flash back to me being terribly nice to you and terribly, terribly horrible to you. And the terrible thing for you is that you won’t be able to decide which you need to remember more.”
He looked at her with a slowly developing awe; she could see it spreading across his face, and now she could see it beginning to develop inside his very core; his cock seemed to slightly twitch as she spoke.
“And I’m going to ruin you such that any time you ever kiss or touch or fuck another woman, you will wish it was me and your orgasm will become contingent on closing your eyes and imagining it actually is me. I’m going to ruin your future and erase your past and you are going to beg me to let you inside my mouth and my pussy; I am going to eradicate every possible comfort and happiness for you, and in return, I will give you nothing but squalid little half exciting orgasms. I will make you ache for more. I will never give you what you need. I will never let you be happy. And I am going to hurt you.”
He was, despite himself, now fully erect. She knelt before him, extending her tongue, and held a pose he would remember; how it looked to almost have her wet pink tongue touch the tip of his cock. She reached out and took his cock in her hand.
“This entirely average cock is mine. It doesn’t belong to you. It belongs to me. I own your dick and, frankly, the rest of you doesn’t matter much to me at all. You will be a warm dildo to me when eventually I decide to use you. And I will decide to. I will have your cock inside me, and you had better ensure you make me happy, cunt. Do you understand?”
She knew he didn’t. She knew he soon would.