Sebastian
Damn, that one has a nice ass.
Oh wait, look at those juicy lips on the one over there.
As my eyes scan the room undressing the men that have caught my eye, I begin to fantasize about the sexual encounters we could have. I think about what I could do to with them, what I can't seem to get from Nate. When I want him and am in the mood, he shies away, which makes me annoyed. And then he complains and whines that he's not ready or that he doesn't want to, which then turns the annoyance into anger. Anger that boils from my core. Anger that leaks from my lips, calling him a "fucking tease" or "ugly slut." When those words leave my mouth, I feel no remorse for them. I feel nothing when tears well up in his eyes, or when he tries to fight against the quiver that begins in his chin. I actually want to laugh. He's so weak, and vulnerable. So easy to break, and toy with. So I grab his wrists and begin to pin him down to the bed, while he makes a feeble attempt to fight back. Although I can overpower him, it enrages me when he fights against me. He should feel fucking lucky to even have me, to have anyone. So I let him go, and push him to the ground. He lands on the floor with a loud thud and scrambles to his feet. But I just kick him down. And kick him. And kick him. And kick him.
I continue to kick him until he cries in pain. And then when his cries start to irritate me, I begin to punch him in the face, trying to shut him up. After I become bored with his crying and bleeding body lying on the floor, I leave the room, and feel accomplished with myself. I taught him a lesson. I punished him for being difficult, and disobedient. Maybe it will get through to his head that he'll never win. He will lose. I control him. He has no choice. He's mine.
But the next time I try, the same result. Refusal. He still hasn't learned. He never will. But I want him. I want the purity he's saving up. I want to shatter that innocence. And one day, whether he wants it or not, I'll just take it.