***Extreme Trigger Warning*** Consensual Non-Consent & Psychological Scare Play. Proceed with caution.
My first experience with BDSM was with a Greaser named Vinny the Knife.
I had a fascination with switch blades and stilettos and had purchased many from him before we ever got intimate. We both hung out at a local punk rock dive bar. I was in college and drinking underage but no one knew.
Eventually Vince and I began flirting. We would have some drinks, pop some speed and make out all night.
One night he strapped me to the radiator. He used his leather belt. We had pre-negotiated everything already. It all sounded so hokey but I dove in head first.
He tied my legs together with some rope.
I was naked on my couch. He took out several tools and ran them up and down my body. Appropriately, knives were first.
I felt nothing.
I mean, it was hot watching him stand over me shirtless, tattooed, with his cute face, great side burns, and hair slicked back but I didn’t get anything else out of the knife play.
I felt too safe with him.
Then came the scalpel. Where the fuck did he get a scalpel? That shit was SHARP. He ran it all over my stomach and tits. Then he grinned as he ran it over my throat.
He had my attention.
He ran the scalpel around my nipples as he grabbed a bigger knife and pressed the flat side of the blade into my clit. The metal felt so fucking good.
I was trying very hard not to squirm but the demonic look on his face while rubbing my clit with his knife was effecting me. I was afraid that if I jerk my body the scalpel would take a nipple off. My tits are hyper sensitive and pretty important to me.
I was getting aroused and a little scared.
He put the weapons down and licked my pussy. I closed my eyes and relaxed.
Then I felt something very cold and very heavy inside of me.
He was fucking me with a gun.
I was, what… 19? 20? I had shot my fair share of rifles and bb guns but I had never come in contact with a hand gun before.
I was terrified.
But also, intrigued…
Shit was FREEZING.
“You know it’s most likely not loaded right? I mean it might have one bulle… BANG!!”
He shot inside of me.
He fucked me really hard and fast with the barrel.
‘It wasn’t loaded,’ I repeated to myself in my head over and over. The entire chemical makeup of my brain changed in that moment.
He took a knife in each hand and ran them up and down and in and out the slit of my pussy.
He fingered the FUCK out of me.
My roommate came home.
“Hey Anna.”
“Hey Will”
(Par for the course from my friends POV).
Vinny didn’t understand the business as usual attitude and threw a blanket over me and coughed, “I thought you said no one would be home tonight!”
I looked over at Will, “Didn’t you have band practice all night?” I asked, still strapped to the radiator. (Everyone in Baltimore was a rockin’ roller).
“It ended early.”
“Oh. OK. Good night.”
“Night”
Vinny had a look of disbelief on his face. I wiggled my bound legs to get his attention back.
I was still in ‘gun shot in my pussy’ headspace.
Out came the blindfold.
This was great because I was still insanely aroused and terrified. Plus I had no way of knowing if my roommate actually went to bed or if he was watching. Also didn’t know if that gun had any bullets in it and if Vinny would use it again or not. So many questions…
“I’d like to have your permission to carve into your leg.”
I was also curious as well as horny.
“Yes.”
He cut into my leg. It stung. I started bleeding.
He took a square of parchment paper with spider webs etched into it and blotted the blood.
“Keepsake.” he said.
I felt something warm on the wound. He was licking the blood off my leg. He fed like a Vampire. I wanted so badly to watch him jerk off while doing it but I was still blind folded.
I felt his lips on mine. He kissed me hard and deep. The blindfold was removed.
He had a pair of scissors in his hand. He ran it up and down my body. He opened the blades over my nipples. That’s when I lost it.
My body shook uncontrollably. I was freaking out.
I didn’t use the safe word-my brain was too far gone.
He quicky untied my hands and feet, wrapped a blanket around me and held me tight.
“Shh sh sh shhhh,” he soothed.
He smelled so good. Like pomade and mint gum.
“You ok?”
“Holy shit. Scissors. Who knew?”
My body stopped trembling but my feet were cold, my pussy was wet and sore, and my upper thigh stung.
“Let’s call it a night,” he said.
“Alright.”
“Before I go I want to ask you something. Does consensual non-consent appeal to you at all?”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Would you consider being attacked and letting me force myself on you?”
“Scare play…let me think on it.”
“It’s more than that but yes. Think about it. Let me know.”
It sounded thrilling. I later told him I’d try it out but I wasn’t prepared for how much he was going to fuck with my head.
About a week later I came home from work and had a cigarette on my back porch. This was very out of the norm for me because I didn’t smoke and I had never just chilled on my porch before. At least not at night time.
My porch faced the back alleys and trash cans. Not the best view. Plus, I avoided my crazy neighbor as much as possible. He would call the cops on me at the slightest of noises.
I guess I had a stressful day because there I was in the pitch black inhaling and exhaling slowly. It was creepy out there. There was one street light on, flickering.
I was alpha-numeric texting on my flip phone.
I went to put my cigarette out when I saw something move in the alley way. I stared down at a still figure. Probably my crazy neighbor.
I started to go back in my house but I turned around just to make sure.
The figure was limping in my direction. It stopped and stared at me.
He was holding a shovel.
I ran into my house and locked the door, closed the blinds and turned the lights off. I didn’t want him to see me keeping tabs on him. I never took my eyes off of him.
He just stood there facing my direction.
There was no way this could be Vinny. This figure had tattered dirty clothes and was wearing a mask. And like I said, I had never been on my back porch before.
The odds that Baltimore was just crazy and dangerous made more sense to me than Vinny randomly approaching the back of my house with a shovel.
Or did it?
He was still standing there and staring, holding that dirty shovel. It had been a good ten minutes.
Was he staring at my house? Or my neighbors?
I owned several weapons but they were all upstairs. I flew up to my bedroom to grab one and raced back to peep out the corner of my window again.
He was gone.
There was no way he could see me lurking! My lights were off. How could he know to make his move? This was insane. I called Vince.
“What are you doing?! Where are you?!!” I yelped.
“Um. Hi. Excuse me?”
He was completely normal sounding and stand offish with my brazenness.
“I need you to come over. There was a man wearing a mask in my alley just standing there… holding a shovel.”
“What? You ok? I can be over shortly just lock your doors.”
He made it over way too quickly. I was paranoid.
He smelled so good and was in all black dress attire with dark red accents.
He scoured the perimeter and made sure I was ok. If that figure in my alley was him, wouldn’t he use this opportunity to ‘play attack’ me? My mind was fucked.
He left to get back to whatever he was doing. I couldn’t sleep that night.
Weeks went by when all of the sudden strange gifts started showing up at my front door. Some of which were offensive.
One night I came home and the shovel was leaning against my neighbors downstairs window. A jewelry box was placed on my Cafe Racer motorcycle.
Vinny and I hadn’t spoken much since the night I called him over. I couldn’t explain any of this.
I was also seeing things. Every window had a face in it.
I heard a rapping at my front door. I opened it but there was no one there.
I ran to my back porch and there he stood again! He was about 50 feet away under the flickering lamp post. He limped like Igor slowly towards my house. His clothes were disgusting and that mask…
But who knocked at my door? I ran back to my front porch. The shovel was gone. My paranoia ran wild.
I did not want to get fucked with that dirty thing.
Or did I?
I called my roommate. He didn’t pick up.
I swear I heard his phone ring upstairs.
Something started banging on my door. I was shaking.
I ran to my back porch again. He was gone.
The banging got louder and louder. My fucking lights went out as I heard a crash.
A gloved hand reached into the broken window pane and twisted the door knob…
The door slowly creaked open.
No one was there! Just the wind.
I froze.
My hands shook as I tried to use my flip phone for some light and call a friend.
I heard a moan.
I felt something right behind me.
In. My. House.
A hand grabbed me by the throat and bent me over.
I could smell fresh dirt as my skirt was being ripped.
A cold liquid was poured all over my spread ass.
I screamed but I knew…
His utility glove muffled it as I bit down.
He took turns.
First him …
…then that shovel.
