The One Who Humiliated Me Came Back and I Couldn’t Say No

Mariana walked through the streets of Córdoba with the afternoon sun hitting her skin, and for the first time in a long while she felt like she owned her own body. There had been a time when every mirror was an enemy. In her university years she had been an insecure, chubby girl, an easy target for every kind of mockery. And among everyone who marked her, none as much as Damián.

He and his group harassed her relentlessly, but Damián was the worst of them all. He cornered her in the empty hallways of the classroom building, laughed at her body, touched her as if he had some right over her. What was most perverse of all was that her body, young and treacherous, responded even though her mind wanted to run away.

—Look at how you get for me —he would whisper in her ear, and she would die of shame and of something else she didn’t dare name.

Over the years, Mariana changed. Diets, the gym, a discipline that turned into obsession. Now she was a slim woman, with firm curves and a new confidence that made heads turn in the street. But the memories were still there, beating like a wound that never quite healed.

That afternoon, in a café downtown, she saw him. Damián, sitting alone at a table by the window, older, more mature, but with the same arrogance tattooed into his jaw. Her heart gave a dry jolt. He looked up and recognized her instantly.

—Mariana? No way. You’re… different.

She approached him trembling inside, but with her back straight. They chatted about anything, about life, about who ended up where. And while they talked, flashes came back to her mind: him pushing her against a wall, his hands where they shouldn’t have been, that low voice that made her hate herself for getting wet.

Why is this still happening to me?, she thought, feeling the heat rising inside her while he spoke.

They left the café together as if nothing had happened, as if fifteen years of resentment didn’t exist. Damián invited her to his apartment, “to catch up.” She accepted knowing perfectly well it was a terrible idea. In the elevator, the silence was thick. He looked her over from head to toe, not bothering to hide it.

—Before, you used to hide under your clothes. Now you want to take them off yourself, huh?

The words hit her like they used to, but instead of getting angry, a dull throb sank down to her cunt.

***

The apartment was modern, impersonal, right in the heart of Nueva Córdoba. As soon as they closed the door, he shoved her against the hallway wall, just like in the old days.

—Let’s relive old memories —he murmured, and kissed her hard, without asking permission.

Mariana moaned against his mouth, her hands trembling on his chest.

—Damián… this is crazy —she said, but her voice came out broken, lacking conviction.

He laughed softly, biting her lip.

—You do want it. You always wanted it.

He yanked her blouse open, the buttons flying. He kneaded her breasts roughly, pinching her nipples until he pulled a whimper from her.

—You’re hurting me —she panted.

—I know.

He lowered his mouth and bit one of them, without softness. Mariana arched her back against the wall, a moan slipping out between clenched teeth. He hiked up her skirt and slid his hand inside her underwear with a single silent command.

—Wet. Like always. You didn’t change anything on the inside.

She closed her eyes, letting herself be invaded by fingers she knew by heart. Whole memories flooded her: the humiliation from before, the impossible mix of rage and desire. Only now it was her opening her legs, willingly, surrendered.

***

He took her to the sofa and bent her over the backrest. He pulled down her underwear in one motion and left her ass exposed in the afternoon light.

—Back then you covered up even for me. Look at you now.

He slapped her ass, the crack echoing through the room. Mariana cried out, but the sting mixed with a pleasure she was ashamed to admit. He unfastened his pants and entered her in a single thrust, with no preamble.

—Tell me this is what you wanted —he growled, grabbing her by the hair to arch her back.

—It’s what I wanted… keep going —she begged, her nails digging into the upholstery.

He began moving forcefully, every shove reviving something buried. He spoke into her ear, that voice that had haunted her so many nights.

—Remember when I cornered you and nobody thought you could take it? Look who’s taking it now.

Mariana moaned without shame, the sofa creaking under their weight. She pushed herself up, shoved him, made him sit, and straddled him with a smile she didn’t know she had in her.

—Look at how I use you now —she told him, riding him slowly, making him wait.

He gripped her hips, surprised and excited in equal measure.

—You’re different. But on the inside you’re still the same filthy girl.

She came first, her legs shaking, pleasure closing around him like a fist. Damián held her, driving up from below until he emptied himself, both of them panting, soaked, looking at each other as if they were only now recognizing one another.

***

Afterward they lay sprawled on the bed, sweaty and spent. The air smelled of sex. Mariana had her head resting on his chest, listening to his heart still racing, while he lazily traced the curve of her waist with the tip of his fingers.

They stayed silent for a long while until she broke it, her voice very low.

—Damián… there’s something I never told anyone. About why I started changing so much. It wasn’t just because of you and what happened at university.

He turned his head, curious.

—Tell me.

She swallowed, biting her lip.

—After I graduated, in my first real job, at a design studio. The year-end party. I was still more or less the same as in college. I was ashamed of my body, but I went anyway. I wore a black dress that clung to everything. And that’s where Sebastián was.

Damián raised an eyebrow, his hand stopping on her hip.

—Who’s Sebastián?

—A coworker from another team. Tall, quiet, with a nice-guy face. He asked me to dance, bought me a few drinks. For the first time in years I felt desired. We ended up in the bathroom they’d rented for the party. Nobody saw us go in.

She paused. Damián’s breathing was already heavier.

—Keep going.

Mariana closed her eyes, reliving it.

—He pressed me against the wall and lifted my dress without saying a word. He slid his fingers in right away. I was already wet, even though I was scared. He whispered something in my ear that embarrassed me and set me on fire at the same time. Then he turned me around, put my hands against the cold tiles, and shoved it in all at once. He split me open.

A moan escaped her just remembering it. Damián pinched one of her nipples, urging her on.

—Did it hurt?

—A lot. But I couldn’t stop getting wetter. He fucked me hard, rough, covering my mouth so nobody would hear. He told me horrible things, that nobody was going to treat me gently, that girls like me had to settle. I cried… and came. Both at the same time. When he was done, he left me there, with my dress all wrinkled, and as he walked away he told me that if I wanted to be treated differently, I had to change first.

Silence. Damián was breathing deeply, his eyes shining with a dark kind of depravity.

—And that’s why you lost weight? For that guy?

She nodded, vulnerable.

—He wrecked my soul. But he also lit something up in me. I wanted to stop being the girl who settled. And look how I ended up: back with you, doing the same thing to me. And only now do I realize I love it. I love being used, being told to my face, being broken… even if I cry.

***

Damián kissed her hard, pushing his tongue deep into her throat. When he pulled back, he had a crooked smile.

—You’re more broken than I am, Mariana. And I love it. You want me to do to you what that guy did? To treat you like they used to treat you, even though now you’re perfect?

She moaned, spreading her legs by instinct. She was soaked again already.

—Yes. Treat me like I’m still that girl from before. Say it, even if you know it’s not true.

Damián didn’t wait any longer. He put her face down, roughly spread her ass cheeks, and spat before rubbing her with his fingers.

—Cry. Cry like that night —he ordered her.

She started to sob on purpose, but soon it became real: the depravity, the humiliation, the memories, all of it at once. He placed the tip and pushed slowly, centimeter by centimeter, until he was buried all the way in.

—Cry louder —he growled, grabbing her by the hair—. Tell me you deserve it.

—I deserve it —she panted through tears—. Keep going, Damián. Like that time.

He sped up, his pelvis crashing against hers with wet, sharp sounds, spanking her while he fucked her.

—Sebastián made you cry. I’m going to make you cry and come at the same time. That’s the difference.

Mariana came first, trembling all over, her body tightening around him. Damián growled, thrust deeper and emptied himself with a long shudder, then collapsed onto her back.

They stayed like that, panting, stuck together with sweat. He wrapped his arms around her from behind.

—That guy was an asshole —he murmured—. But thanks to him you ended up here. With me.

Mariana smiled through tears and turned her head to kiss him.

—And you’re the one who makes me happy being what I am. Don’t ever stop. I want more. I want you to make me cry again… but this time I want you to make me finish afterward.

He laughed softly, biting her neck.

—Relax. This is just getting started. Tomorrow I’m taking you somewhere riskier and fucking you while you think about how you used to be. You’re going to cry and finish at the same time, I promise.

She shivered with anticipation, her body still throbbing, empty and hungry at once.

And so they went on, night after night, feeding a fire someone else had lit without knowing it and that Damián now stoked without guilt. What for anyone else would have been a wound had become, for Mariana, a secret she guarded with devotion: the darkest desire and, paradoxically, the freest she had ever felt.