The Punk Who Dominated Me After a Fight

I was walking alone back toward the bar where my group had stayed after stopping by another place to say hello to a friend. I’d drunk just enough to feel light, with that warmth in your body that night gives you when the old streets are crowded and music pours out of every open door.

To avoid the main avenue, I turned into a narrow street in the old quarter. I knew that maze by heart. Two more turns and I’d come out into a quiet little square, letting me cut across without brushing against half the city.

Then I heard the shouting.

They were two women’s voices, sharp and full of instant hatred, as if the argument had gone from zero to a hundred in seconds. I recognized one of them immediately. It was Mara, one of those nighttime friends you never see during the day but who always turn up amid smoke, beer, and laughter that’s too loud.

Mara had a deceptive face. Thin, light eyes, a wide mouth, reddish curls down to her shoulders, and a small body that looked fragile until she opened her mouth or got herself into trouble. She always wore tight leggings, black boots, and faded T-shirts from bands I didn’t know, and she was always one spark away from getting into a fight with someone.

I quickened my pace, and when I rounded the corner I saw her in the middle of the square, facing off against another woman who was considerably taller and broader than her. They were insulting each other at close range, chest to chest, shoving each other angrily. I didn’t even have time to open my mouth.

Mara raised the bottle she was holding and smashed it against the other woman’s head.

“Mara!” I shouted, breaking into a run.

The other woman went down, dazed, and Mara, blind with rage, began kicking her with her boots. I grabbed her around the waist from behind and hauled her away by force, lifting her almost off the ground while she kept kicking at the air.

“Stop it!” I shouted in her ear.

“Let go of me, goddammit!” she spat, twisting like a rabid animal.

I dragged her to the nearest wall and pinned her wrists above her head. She was panting violently. Her eyes were blazing, her pupils dilated, her chest heaving beneath her sweat-dampened shirt. I glanced at the other woman, who was already staggering to her feet.

“Get out of here,” I told her.

She didn’t have to think twice. She half ran, half stumbled away, one hand pressed to her head. As soon as I saw her disappear through one of the square’s exits, I looked back at Mara. She was still struggling against me.

“Calm down already. What the fuck is wrong with you?” I said, pressing her wrists against the wall.

Her answer wasn’t verbal.

She raised her knee and drove it between my legs.

The blow caught me through my jeans, but it still knocked the breath out of me. Pain shot up into my stomach like an electric jolt. I clenched my teeth and didn’t let go. The only thing I could think was that if I released her, she’d go after the other woman again.

“I told you to let me go, you idiot,” she puffed.

Then she drove another knee into me, cleaner and higher, straight into my balls.

This time she brought me down. My hands went slack and I doubled over with a dry retch. I fell to my knees in front of her, my face level with her crotch, breathing as best I could, my hands clamped over my cock and balls.

I saw her leggings stretched tight a few inches away, outlining the mound of her pussy. The thought pierced my head even as pain ripped through me, and I hated myself for getting hard at a moment like that.

I didn’t have time to get my thoughts in order. Mara grabbed me by the hair with both hands and pulled me backward until I was lying on my back on the ground.

“You brought it on yourself.”

She raised her boot and brought it down on my package. It wasn’t a quick kick; it was worse. She crushed my balls beneath the sole, gradually putting her weight into it while watching my face as I curled up with a muffled moan. The pain was so brutal it clouded my vision.

Then she ran.

I was left alone in the square, doubled over, feeling hot pulses between my legs. I don’t know how long it took before I could sit up. I ended up sitting against the wall, breathing slowly and feeling myself through my trousers, genuinely afraid I’d find something wrong.

Everything was still in place. Hurting as if I’d been beaten with hammers, but intact.

I heard footsteps approaching and raised my head. It was Mara. She was coming back at a brisk pace, still agitated, but the murderous rage had left her eyes. She stopped in front of me and ran her tongue over her lips, uncomfortable for the first time all night.

“Dude... I’m sorry,” she said, her voice still racing. “When I get like that, I lose it. I don’t control a damn thing.”

She put a hand on my shoulder, and I flinched involuntarily.

“I’ve been better,” I muttered. “What the fuck happened?”

Mara shrugged.

“I asked her for a cigarette and she called me a slut. You know what I’m like when someone pushes my buttons.” She lowered her gaze to my crotch and pursed her lips slightly. “Did I hurt you badly?”

I shook my head out of pride, but the lie must have shown on my face.

She didn’t ask permission. She lowered her hand from my shoulder to my package and felt me through my jeans, carefully at first, then with a curiosity far too slow to be innocent. I felt a lash of pain... and beneath it, a current of pleasure that tightened my whole body.

“Let’s see,” she murmured. “Let me check.”

Her palm closed around my balls through the fabric. She squeezed just a little. The breath escaped my mouth, and I felt my cock beginning to wake, hard and traitorous, pushing against my zipper even though every millimeter of the erection hurt.

Mara raised an eyebrow. She smiled crookedly.

“Well. You’re not as broken as you look.”

She squeezed again, a little harder. I closed my eyes and let out a groan I couldn’t tell was protest or pleasure. When I opened them, she was looking at me as if she’d discovered something hilarious.

“Don’t tell me this turns you on.”

“I don’t know what the fuck turns me on right now,” I admitted, still panting.

Her laugh was short and dirty. She stepped between my spread legs and gripped my jaw with one hand.

“Maybe you like being told what to do.”

Before I could answer, she kissed me. She thrust her tongue into my mouth without any gentleness, invading me while her other hand continued rubbing my package. Her kiss tasted of beer, tobacco, and adrenaline. I was still sitting against the wall, hurting, and yet my cock was already pounding hard against my trousers.

“Fuck...” she murmured against my mouth. “You really are into this.”

She slapped my balls sharply. The blow was short and precise. Pain folded my stomach, and in that same jolt it made me even harder. She noticed immediately and gave a low laugh.

“Look at you.” She kissed me again. “I smash your balls and you get hard. You’re a strange thing, you know that?”

“And you’re completely fucking crazy,” I told her.

“Maybe.” She bit my lip. “But you’re not pulling away.”

That was the worst part. She was right.

I grabbed her ass through her leggings and squeezed hard. Her buttocks were firm and compact. Mara let out a sharp gasp and pulled my hair, forcing my face against her chest. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Her nipples stood hard beneath the thin shirt.

“Suck,” she ordered.

I pulled the fabric up to her neck and exposed a small, firm breast. I caught it in my mouth and bit her nipple. Mara arched her back and dug her fingers into my scalp. While I licked and sucked her other breast, she undid my trousers with furious speed.

She slipped her hand inside my boxers and yanked out my cock. It was truly hard, thick, its head glistening with pre-cum. Her hand began moving quickly up and down, without tenderness, almost as if she were punishing me by jerking me off.

“Holy shit,” she breathed through her teeth. “And you’re still holding up like this.”

I kept sucking her nipples, alternating suction and bites, while she stroked me in short, hard motions. Pleasure rose through my stomach, mingled with the dull pain of my balls, which were still throbbing sensitively from the blows. The combination left me completely off balance.

“Look at me,” she said.

I raised my head. She was smiling with that troublemaking face she’d always had, but now there was something else in it: hunger. Without stopping her stroking, she slid her knee between my legs and hit me in the balls again, two dry, controlled taps, just enough to draw a moan from me and make me grit my teeth.

“Fuck...” I huffed, half doubling over.

“That’s it. I want to hear you.” She grabbed my hair. “Open your mouth.”

I understood too late. She lowered her pelvis toward my face. I tugged her leggings down to mid-thigh. She wasn’t wearing panties. Her pussy suddenly appeared before me, dark hair damp and lips glistening. She smelled of sweat, the street, and arousal. A real, strong, animal scent. It drove me crazy.

I parted her lips with my fingers and slid in my tongue. She let out a rough gasp, her back against the wall, her legs spread on either side of my face. Her taste was salty and thick. I licked her from bottom to top, slowly at first, burying my tongue between her wet folds, then deeper and faster, sucking her clitoris until I heard her curse.

“That’s it, you bastard... don’t stop.”

Her fingers kept tightening in my hair, guiding me. At times she rubbed her pussy over my mouth; at others she forced me to stay right on the spot that made her legs tremble. I ate her eagerly, opening her with my tongue, sliding two fingers inside and feeling her squeeze them from within.

Mara was soaked. Every time I pushed my fingers all the way in, she welcomed them with a more broken moan. With her other hand she kept hold of my cock, jerking me in quick, disjointed strokes, as if she wanted to keep me on the edge without letting me come.

“Fuck me already,” she suddenly said, pulling my hair so I would look at her. “But you’re going to do exactly what I tell you.”

She moved away from me and turned around right there in the middle of the square. She braced her hands against the wall, arched her back, and offered me her ass. I pulled her leggings down to her knees. Her buttocks were round and hard, defined by the tension in her legs. Between them, her gleaming pussy waited, open and dripping.

I got to my feet as best I could, still carrying a dull ache between my legs. I spat into my hand, rubbed it over my cock, and placed it at her entrance. Mara tipped her head back to look at me from the side.

“Now. All the way in.”

I obeyed. I drove into her in one hard, deep thrust. Mara’s pussy swallowed me whole, tight and hot, and she let out a scream that bounced off the walls of the square. I stayed buried inside her for a second, feeling her milk me with her contractions, then I began to move.

Slowly at first, finding a rhythm. Then harder. My pelvis slammed against her ass with a wet, brutal sound. She spread her legs wider to take me better, thrusting backward to ask for more, and every impact sent back a mixture of pleasure and sharp pangs from my battered balls.

“Harder,” she ordered. “Don’t fuck me like you feel sorry for me.”

I gripped her hips and gave her exactly what she wanted, with long, deep, violent thrusts, feeling my cock nearly pull all the way out before sinking back into her hot pussy. Mara began moaning without shame, loudly and hoarsely, mixing orders with insults.

“That’s it, you son of a bitch... that’s it.” She thrust her ass back against me. “Give me your cock, goddammit.”

I no longer cared about the square. Anyone could come by. All I saw was her arched back, the sway of her tits beneath her raised shirt, and the way her pussy squeezed me every time I went all the way in. I lowered one hand and sought out her clitoris while continuing to fuck her. It was swollen and slippery. I rubbed it in quick circles.

Mara let out a shriek and clutched the wall.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop...”

I dug my fingers into her hip and kept punishing her with my cock while working her clitoris. Her pussy throbbed around me, growing more and more uncontrollable. Suddenly one of her hands reached back and caught my balls.

It was a firm, full, deliberate grip.

I knew what was going to happen a moment before it did. Even so, I didn’t pull away.

Mara tugged my balls downward hard while I was burying myself in her. Pain shot through me all at once, so intense that my vision blurred, and at the same time it unleashed such a savage wave of pleasure that an animal groan escaped me. My rhythm broke. I folded over her back.

“You like that, don’t you?” she whispered, squeezing again. “Say it.”

“Yes... fuck, yes.”

“Louder.”

“Yes, I like it.”

Her laugh was almost tender, which made it more perverse.

“Good answer. Now keep fucking me.”

I started moving again, half drunk on pain and arousal. Every time my pelvis struck her, her fingers squeezed my balls just enough to keep me on the verge of something new, twisted, and addictive. This wasn’t a normal fuck. It was a beating turned into a game, a filthy form of obedience.

Mara came first. I felt it in the way her whole body tensed and closed around me. Her pussy began contracting in jerks as she screamed against the wall, moving her ass wildly. I kept driving into her without slowing, making the most of that wet spasm, that tight madness squeezing my cock like a hot hand.

When the trembling passed, she turned around with surprising speed and pushed me backward until I was sitting against the wall again. She dropped to her knees between my legs. Her mouth gleamed with saliva, and her pussy had wet her thighs.

“You’re not coming until I say so,” she said.

She gripped my cock and stroked it slowly, almost tenderly, then gave my balls a light slap. I hissed.

“Look how you’re trembling.”

“You’ve left me completely fucked up.”

“And you’re still harder than before.” She smiled. “I love it.”

She spat on the head and spread it around with her hand. Then she opened her mouth and took the tip inside. Her tongue traced the frenulum slowly, torturing me. Then she swallowed more of me, halfway down, sucking hard. The sensation shook my entire spine.

Mara was wonderful at sucking cock, but not like a sweet lover. She did it like she did everything else: taking possession. She held the base with one hand and rubbed my aching balls with the other, alternating caresses with short squeezes that drew filthy spasms of pleasure from me.

“Holy shit...” I moaned, throwing my head back.

She answered by taking me deeper. She swallowed me as far as she could, pulled me out with a wet sound, and took me back in, speeding up the movement of her mouth while her hand moved up and down over the part she couldn’t swallow. Her tongue worked the head every time she withdrew. Her other hand kneaded my sack with expertly perverse skill.

I didn’t last much longer. Too much tension, too much pain turned into lust, too much pussy and too much mouth. I warned her as best I could.

“I’m coming.”

Mara raised her eyes to me without letting go. In response, she squeezed my balls one last time and swallowed me all the way down.

I came with a long, ragged moan, emptying myself into her mouth. I felt spasms run through my entire body while she kept sucking and swallowing, never pulling away, milking me until she got the last drop. My pelvis trembled. My thighs gave out. If I hadn’t already been sitting, I would have collapsed to the ground.

When she finally eased off, she slowly pulled my cock from her mouth. She let nothing spill. She licked her lips with all the calm in the world, then stood up to kiss me. I opened my mouth, expecting to taste myself, but there was no trace left: she had swallowed everything.

We stayed there for a few seconds, breathing pressed against each other, sharing the same hot air. She calmly pulled up her leggings, as if she’d just smoked a cigarette instead of wrecking my head and my package in the same night.

“Now you know,” she said, leaning against the wall again, still panting. “Fights turn me on. And I get even more turned on when the guy can take it.”

I looked at her, my body still trembling. The square was still there, along with the windows, distant footsteps, and a couple who passed in the background and pretended not to look even though they looked plenty. My cock was still sensitive, my balls burning, and my head was a complete mess.

“You’re seriously fucked up,” I muttered.

Mara shrugged with that half smile of hers.

“And you came like a bastard.”

I couldn’t argue with her. My mouth was swollen from kissing her, my fingers smelled of her pussy, and a new truth was pounding inside me with the same force as her knees: that night, in a filthy square in the old quarter, I discovered that it turned me on to surrender control to a woman capable of hurting me and making me harder at the same time.

She offered me her hand to help me up. I hesitated for a second before taking it.

“Can you walk?” she asked mockingly.

“If you don’t bring that knee near me again, yes.”

Mara burst out laughing and pressed herself against my side as we left the square as if nothing had happened. But before we turned the corner, she squeezed my package once more, through my trousers, just enough to remind me who had been in charge there.

“I’m not promising anything,” she whispered.