Chapter 1

I was drenched with sweat and exhausted by the time Tara was finished eating my cunt. I'd been hesitant to let her -- I hadn't washed before bed, and yesterday had been a long, hot day. Not to mention the fact that I always got worked up around Tara and after I'd come home from the gym last night, she'd seemed to be in an especially playful mood. Somehow though, we hadn't made love. This morning my pussy was a sloppy mess and I probably stunk to high heaven, but that hadn't bothered Tara even a bit.

I wanted to return the favor to her. I wanted to taste her sweet pussy but I'd always been too embarrassed to ask to eat her out when she was on her period. I'd never done it to any woman, but the thought always turned me on. When I was on mine, Tara wouldn't even finger me, which sucked, since I was always super horny when I was on the rag. She'd made it clear that touching a menstruating pussy was something that grossed her out.

I'd been a little surprised by Tara's actions last night, and now this morning, since she'd been kind of a bitch the last week. I'd put it down to PMS, but somehow got the feeling that wasn't it. I came out of the shower and found her sitting at the table, her hands around a cup of coffee. The look on her face made my stomach clench, and made me think something really was wrong. She and I had only been together for six months, but they'd been an amazing six months and I didn't want us to split up. The look on her face though, well, that was telling me she had some serious shit to discuss. I sat down, looking in surprise at the steaming cup of coffee she'd obviously just poured for me. My stomach clenched even harder. Had this morning been good-bye sex?

"Hey," I said brightly, leaning over for a kiss.

Her mouth still smelled and tasted like my cunt, and I liked it. In fact, it started to turn me on, despite my misgivings. Her lips were soft as we kissed, but I could see the worry in her eyes.

"Is," I swallowed, "is there something wrong? Did I do something?"

She shook her head.

"No," she said. "It isn't you. It's me."

Oh fuck. How many times had that line been used to break up with someone?

She glanced up and saw the look on my face, and her eyes closed.

"I'm not kidding Sasha," she said. "It really is me. I'm fucked up. Damaged goods, and I don't think I can hide it from you anymore. I ... I've fallen in love with you, and I can't tell you how much it's gonna hurt when you start to hate me."

I took a shuddering breath.

"Why would I start to hate you?" I asked. "You know that I'm in love with you."

"Yeah," she said, with a sad chuckle, "well, I'm afraid you won't be after I've told you ... what I have to tell you."

"What, did you murder someone or something like that?" I asked.

She shook her head.

"No," she said. "Nothing like that. It's about our relationship. Our ... lovemaking."

She said 'lovemaking' like it was a filthy word.

"Oh," I replied, going numb. Was I not good enough in bed? Did I taste bad or something? Oh no! Was she ... was she going straight on me?

"I ... I'm sorry if I did something wrong," I said.

"You didn't," was the reply. "Not really. It's me. Like I said: damaged goods."

"I don't understand," I said, starting to get frantic. "Do you ... are you going straight?"

Tara looked up at me in surprise, just the hint of a smile briefly shining through her grief.

"No," she said. "Nothing like that."

She went silent, and when it became clear she wasn't going to say anything else, I prodded.

"Please," I said. "Please, Tara, don't do this to me. Please tell me what I've done so I can fix it."

She jerked her hand out of mine, and looked at me in anger.

"Don't do that," she said. "Don't ever beg me, not ever!"

I opened my mouth to say something, but she cut me off.

"Don't apologize either!"

I sat there shaking, my hands folded in my lap as tears started to pour out of my eyes. She looked horrified and slid to her knees, taking me hands in hers.

"Stop," she said, "please, stop crying. Please! This isn't your fault!"

"I don't even know what 'this' is!" I moaned.

"I'll tell you," she said, "I will. Just stop crying!"

She sounded frantic and looked scared enough that I was surprised into controlling myself.

"Lets go into the living room," she said, taking my hand. I kept my coffee in my other hand. I can't function without morning coffee.

She guided me to the sofa, but to my surprise, she didn't sit next to me. She knelt on the floor.

"I'm not normal," she said, holding up her hand to stop my response. "Please, it's bad enough that you're going to hate me after I say this. Just let me get through it, and I'll be gone, okay?"

My heart clenched when she said she was leaving, but I nodded.

"Anyway, like I said, I'm not normal," she repeated. "Especially not when it comes to sex, and I've been living a lie since we got together."

Once again she held up her hand to stop my protest.

"I have," she insisted. "I know you like sex. I do too, but for me sex is more than just pussy eating and lovemaking." Again, she made a face. "I don't like to make love. I'm not built for it. I can love someone -- I love you, after all -- but making love doesn't ... well, it doesn't do it for me."

She looked up at me, her eyes wide.

"Tara, what I need is someone who will be cruel to me," she said. "Make me do things I don't want to do. I know it's disgusting and perverted, but I'm disgusting and perverted. I don't want control, I don't want equality. But see, here's the thing, I know that since I'll let someone do pretty much anything they want to me, I thought I needed someone who's not perverted and cruel. Someone who would cherish me. I was wrong, sort of."

I was really confused now, and she saw it.

"Look, someone who would want to hurt me, could go too far. I don't want to get all scarred up, I don't want my life and career ruined. I don't want any permanent injuries, and I don't want my pussy ruined so that I can't feel pleasure anymore. And most of the people who would be cruel enough to satisfy me, don't have the self control to keep from going too far.

"But I have a really high sex drive, like even higher than you think, and I've been going crazy."

"I don't understand," I said, shaking my head. "You want someone to hurt you? How?"

"Physically, mostly," she replied in a matter of fact voice. "I like humiliation too, but like I said, I don't want my life ruined by being paraded around to my coworkers or anything like that. And I won't say no to someone who is using me."

I, of course, immediately thought about the fact that she wouldn't let me eat her during her period, or touch me doing mine. Maybe because I hadn't actually been 'using' her?

"So you'll let someone do anything to you," I said, trying to grasp the situation.

She nodded.

"You know the scar under my left breast? And the one on my ass?"

I nodded.

"I let someone do that to me because they wanted to, and I like the pain," she said.

"They ... cut you?" I asked. "With a knife or something?"

"The one under my breast was with a knife," she replied. "I ended up getting a few stitches. The one on my ass was from when someone caned me hard enough to cut me, then rubbed salt in it."

I shuddered.

"And you let them do it?" I asked, incredulous.

"I wanted them to do it!" she replied, sharply. "I wanted them to hurt me. The pain, the fear, it's like a drug. It makes me cum so hard that sometimes I pass out. I need someone to be cruel to me, to take control, hurt and humiliate me because I need the orgasms. That's why I have to go -- I'm going crazy trying not to show you how perverted I am, and I haven't cum in six months and I'm going to go nuts if I don't."

I looked at her in horror. She saw it, and misinterpreted the look.

"I'll go now," she said, standing up. "I'll come back and get my stuff when you aren't home..."

"No!" I said, reaching for her hand. I swallowed. "You ... you haven't cum the entire time we've been together?"

She shook her head.

"Not one time?" I asked in a small voice.

She shook her head again, "Maybe just a little one here and there, but..."

Tears spilled out of my eyes.

"I'm so sorry," I said, "I didn't know! I want to help. How can I help?"

"I don't think you can," she replied. "And it's not your fault anyway, remember? I'm the fucked up one."

She tried to pull away.

"No, please," I said, "don't go. We can figure something out!"

She pulled her hand out of mine, and glared at me.

"No," she said, "we can't. I'm fucked up, I know that. I don't want to inflict my weird shit on you, you don't deserve that."

It took some time, and some fast talking on my part, but I managed to keep her from leaving. I told her I could help, that I loved her and wanted to understand what she needed so I could give it to her. She didn't believe me, but it was true. The thought of losing her was unbearable to me, and I really was willing to try and meet her needs. I had no idea how much it would change me.

"Okay," I said, "let's give this a try."

Tara smiled at me, and I could tell she didn't think it was going to work. She loved me though, so she was willing to give me a try. Of course, I was at a loss, since I had no idea what to do. She saw that, and smiled a bit wider.

"Oh come on now," I said. "You have to give me a little help."

She nodded.

"First thing is, you have to stop thinking of me as your equal, at least when it comes to our relationship and especially sex," she said. "I'm not your equal, and I don't want to be. You can tell me to do anything you want, and I'll try my best to do it. Believe it or not, you can punish me simply by making me believe I failed. That hurts in a non-sexual way, and since I ... well ... because of how I feel about you, it'll hurt a lot."

I skipped over the punishment part, trying to understand the rest. At the time, I couldn't imagine punishing someone, least of all my lover.

"If we do this, I won't be your lover," she said. "I'd be your slave. Your sex toy. If you want to watch me suck a stranger's cock, just order me do it. I might cry and throw up a fuss, but that's part of the pleasure for me."

"I thought you hated sex with men," I said.

"I do," she replied, "which makes it even more humiliating, since I'll get off on it, because I'm being forced to do it."

That was convoluted. Too convoluted for my bruised brain to try and follow.

"What else?" I asked.

"Hurt me physically. Often. Make me do things that you know I don't like, or are uncomfortable for me," she said.

"Like?"

"Well, you know I'm embarrassed about peeing in front of someone," she said. "Make me pee in front of you, especially if it turns you on. Hell, make me drink it -- I will if you force me to. I'll drink yours too. Same with period play. I know you're into that, but I think it's gross. Make me do it, and it won't matter if I think it's gross -- it'll turn me on because you're making me do it."

I was feeling faint. Horny too, despite how thoroughly she'd gotten me off this morning.

"Physical pain is a serious turn-on," she said. "There's lots of ways to make me really hurt without causing permanent damage. Bruises and small cuts are fine, better than fine, in fact. While you're hurting me you can keep me from cumming, and that makes it even better for me. In fact, denying me an orgasm is an excellent way to torture me. Just not for more than a few days at a time. I um ... well it's been a long time since I've had a really good orgasm, which is probably why I'm explaining all this. I need a lot of sex and if I didn't love you, I wouldn't have lasted this long."

I was determined not to let her go any longer with out a good orgasm. On the other hand, what was I supposed to do to her, beat her up? It didn't sound like that was what she wanted.

"I have some ... things ... at my apartment that might help with this," she offered.

We both lived in apartments, although I'd been thinking of getting a house lately. My place was somewhat larger, having three bedrooms. I'd lucked into it at a decent rate, and took it. I like space. Tara's place had two bedrooms and was smaller over all. She used one of the bedrooms as a storage room.

I was pretty quiet on the drive over. She lived a good twenty minutes away, and we didn't talk while we drove. I was thinking furiously about what she told me. I'm a good problem solver, having, believe it or not, a degree in mechanical engineer (with a minor in electrical engineering). But I was now being asked to solve a relationship problem, a very strange one and I couldn't wrap my head around it until we were almost at her place. Then, some of what she told me clicked and I got a few ideas.

We went into her place, and she brewed us some more coffee.

"I know this is a lot to take in," she said. I noticed she was shaking, but it was clear she wasn't afraid. She was aroused more than I'd ever seen her.

Tara's gorgeous, although she doesn't think so. She has thick auburn hair that reaches to about the middle of her back, blue eyes and a beautiful face with full, sexy lips and just a few freckles across her nose. Her body is lithe, with a narrow waist, a super tight, sexy ass and legs that are surprisingly long for someone who's only five one. One of the things she hates about herself is her breasts -- or rather lack there of. She has these huge dark nipples -- baby-bottle nips, I call them -- but otherwise she's pretty flat chested. She only wears a bra because when her nipples get hard, they're really thick and stick out a good inch. She's told me time and time again how much having small breasts embarrasses her. She thinks she looks like a little girl.

I guess I never had the courage to tell her that's one of the reasons why I find her so attractive. The way a young girl looks just before reaching puberty turns me on something fierce. Not, mind you, that I've ever done anything about it. But young girls get me really hot. I love looking at their tight little asses, and wonder what their pussies would taste like. I'd never gotten to eat pussy until college, so naturally, I'd never gotten any young pussy. The one thing about Tara that spoiled the illusion of her being a young girl, was that she had pussy hair. I'd been too embarrassed to ask her to shave it, knowing that she already thought that she looked like a little girl.