Damages

He'd somehow gotten ahold of the flesh just above my knee. I didn't even know there was enough slack up there to bite, but he was holding it even when he had one hand in my pussy and his prick in my ass, Karma Sutra style.

I'd never been bitten before. Bite my nipples, I'd tell boys, and they'd gently hold my nipple between their teeth. Harder, I'd tell them, and they'd increase the pressure until I could really feel it, and I'd gasp. He'd begin at that point, then keep bearing down until the pressure reached a white hot point, the kind of concentrated pain you'd get from having a hot needle driven into your breast. Sometimes he'd worry the marks with his teeth a little, to spread the pain around.

I found I sometimes had to fight the urge to hit him. I wanted him to do this to me, but when the pain pushed one click to far I'd start to pound him on the shoulder and then remember and hold myself back so I wouldn't hurt him. Ha! I'd thought that after a time everything would get mixed up, and a slap would begin to feel like a warm massage. Instead it was an edgy game where I did my best to open up, take it in, bear more and more. And he kept finding ways to make things hurt I had never realized before, like when he gripped me under the knees to push my legs towards my chest to fuck me. Ten seconds later I realized even such an innocent grip as that could become agony.

Or the skin above my knee, which was hurting like a fresh burn. His teeth were still set firmly.

Stop, I'd beg, oh stop, and he'd let up...a beat or two later. Once I had yanked his hand away when he'd mashed my breast in a fist and twisted. But I wanted to bear more. "I don't have a very high pain tolerance, do I?" I'd asked over my increasingly scarlet breasts.

He looked confused. "You seem to be holding up fine."

His teeth had reached the stage where the pressure was like a white-hot needle.

I leaned my head back, and suddenly found the trick of it. Like in the moments before one of my own self-induced orgasms, I'd clear the front of my mind so as to have no distractions. I'd refuse to focus on the room around me, on how long it was taking, and the pleasure wouldn't jerk to a stop in the middle but would flow unencumbered to a strong and lasting crescendo. I could throw my mind away, refuse to acknowledge my nerves' insistence that they were at their limit, and hold it...and hold it...

That was the longest one. I felt the beat pass when I'd usually beg him to stop, blocked out the peak, and allowed another to pass. Then another, and then he let go of his own accord. I sighed with triumphant relief, just before he bit down again, just as hard.

And in the exact same place.

"Fuck YOU!" I exploded, and hit him on the shoulder.