When you start chatting to new potential partners – whether through dating apps, Fetlife, or good old-fashioned meeting people – and the conversation turns to kink (as it seems to 90% of the time in my case!) the inevitable question seems to be: when did you discover kink?

This has got me thinking. Did I discover kink or did kink discover me? Looking back I know I always had dark desires inside me, ever since I was old enough to process them. I played around with friends at 8 or 9, letting boys and girls touch me intimately and touching them in return. I got a friend to tie me up at 12 and re-enact one of my early wet dream fantasies. Whatever she relayed to her Mum got her banned from my house. Kink has always been a part of me.

My first true ‘kink’ experience was when I was 19. I told my boyfriend at the time I wanted him to rape me. I cringe at that terminology now but he knew what I meant. We’d played around with elements of a D/s relationship already and watched porn together. One night unexpectedly he grabbed me. He was a doorman at a local nightclub and far too strong for me to overpower. Still I tried to fight back. God, it was exhilarating.

We were on the beach of my home town close to one of the bandstand style shelters after dark. He pushed me hard against it. I kept fighting. He called me a filthy bitch as he tried to stop me moving by pushing the strength of his body against mine. My struggles slowed. I could barely breathe let alone move.

“You know you want it bitch,” he said. I was so horny from fighting him, my pussy aching and wet. Full of adrenaline at what was to come.

He forced my skirt up and ripped my knickers off. He shoved them deep into my mouth.

“To stop you screaming,” he whispered firmly in my ear.

I whimpered. I couldn’t scream. His body was almost crushing mine. I remember thinking ‘he’s so strong’ over and over again in my head. He pulled my hair back forcefully as he shoved his hard cock deep into my open wet pussy. He fucked my pussy and my arse over and over as I came again and again. His body trapping me, pounding against me, tearing me apart from the inside. It was the most alive I have felt.

He pulled his cock out twitching and came violently over my exposed arse. As his body left mine, I crumpled to the floor.

“Dirty whore,” he said, spitting on me. He pulled my knickers out of my mouth.

“Clean yourself up.”

I heard his heavy steps on the stones of the beach as I stood up, legs shaking, and cleaned his come from my arse with my knickers as instructed. I pulled my skirt down and rolled my knickers into a ball ready for the nearest bin. My legs still shaking, I tried to walk and I stumbled, clinging to the sides of the shelter.

Suddenly he was back with his arms around me.

“You ok?” his voice so soft and gentle. I looked up at his eyes with a huge smile on my face.

“Yes,” I replied.

“You enjoy that?”

I nodded grinning like an idiot.

“I thought maybe spitting on you was too much but it was too late once I’d done it.”

“I loved it.” I squeezed his arm reassuringly. It was everything I had wanted from him and more.

“I think you came.”

“I did,” I agreed, “a few times.”

“I felt it.”

He was grinning now. I had never come before with him or anyone. I think I had done by myself but it was a very different experience. So this was my first orgasm (and second and third!) What a way to experience it!

So maybe that was the night I discovered kink. I certainly discovered how dark my desires could be given the chance …

 

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