"The first rule of Fight Club is...you don't talk about fight club."

Now writing about it, on the other hand...well, that's different.

A friend of mine asked me to house-sit for her on the weekends for the next month or so. Of course, I jumped at the chance, considering the unfortunate circumstance of still having my ex as a roommate. When I agreed, she threw in the kicker, "By the way, you should invite Mr. Mellow over... I'm sure you're dying to get your freak on!" Um, hell-to-the-yeah! She didn't have to say more! LOL, I was wondering if her ass had rigged up some cameras or some shit to record what she knew was going to be a smackdown of epic proportions!

"The second rule of Fight Club is -- you DO NOT talk about Fight Club"

Mellow and I had been speaking on the phone about kicking my submission to him up a notch, as well as pushing the rough play a little further. The last time we had been together, I told him to slap my face when we were getting down and he cautiously tapped my cheek. I teased him, letting him know that if I could take him choking me with his dick and hazing my ass with paddles and whatnot, he could hit me harder than that. Yeah..I talk to damn much.

He was more than happy to keep me company at my friend's empty townhouse and had arranged to fly in late Friday evening, giving me enough time to finish up at work and get it all primped and pretty by 10 p.m. to pick him up. Before he left home to go to the airport, he called me and said, "You ready, baby?" I told him I couldn't wait. I was on my way home, after getting my nails and toes done and filling my kinky shopping list. Time to shower, and get ready to make a run to the airport...I still ended up late. He called me just as I was taking one last look in the mirror and asked, "Where you at, girl?" I told him I was sorry I was running late. I was leaving the house now. He hung up. Ohhh, he was a bit pissed. LOL. So I took one last puff of my kush, checked my ta-tas in the mirror and rode out.

I picked him up. The original plan was for him to drive so I could give him head while we were on the way. He was a bit miffed that I was late, so he threw his shit into the backseat and got in the passenger side. I tried to make small talk, but he wasn't having it. He was upset, and told me that I would "pay for that bullshit". So here's where I talk too much again, "Ooh, what, you gonna beat it up now? That's what you said last time, and you barely tapped me." I was so full of shit, cuz I knew he had some tricks up his sleeve, I must be a masochist for real. He mumbled, kinda under his breath, "Yeah...talk that shit now."

At the house, we barely got in the door before he pushed me to my knees and around my neck, he placed the black leather collar and leash (strategically placed just inside the front door). If he hadn't pulled his dick out, it would have bust his zipper open. I think the sight of me on my knees in front of him with my dress falling open and in straight-up slave mode got him more than ready. I could barely get my gag reflex in check before he was mercilessly fucking my throat.

Just as I thought I would choke to death, he pulled out of my mouth and lead me to the bedroom. Bending me in front of the bed, I was instructed to grab my ankles as I was spanked with the other end of the leash. More like lashings, he alternated between the leash and his hand, at some point, he pushed me over onto the bed. Roughly, he flipped me onto my back and wrapped the leash around his fist as he pushed into me and pulled me up into his chest. He commenced to fuck the shit out of me, while lamenting about how I was late picking him up, and how I had talked all that shit. He said, "Yeah, I could smack the shit out of you right now." I said, "Smack the shit out of me then." He said, "What the fuck did you say? Did I ask you to say something to me?" He pushed up in me hard and deep and just as I almost let an "Ahh" slip out...WHAP! He slapped the living shit out of me!

So there I was, laying there and silently moving my tongue around in my mouth, making sure all my teeth were still in tact, when WHAP! Another slap. Ok, see... now this was NOT what I was expecting! I was trying to decide if I should tell him that shit really hurt, or just concentrate on the fucking I was getting. Pain. Dick. Pain. Dick. WHAP! Before I could come to a conclusion, this muhfugga slapped me a 3rd time. I had to tap out, I was scared I may have to make an emergency trip to the dentist in the morning. Surely, my jaw was dislocated...Surely.


"The third rule fo Fight Club -- someone yells stop, goes limp, taps out, the fight is over."

I put my hand up to my face to block any further abuse and told him he had to stop. "Don't stop fucking me," I said. "Just please don't slap me again!" He smirked and said, I told you not to talk shit. He pulled out and flipped me over and pulled me up onto my knees, letting go of the leash, he grabbed a handful of my locs and banged me crazy. I was clenching my jaw, feeling like I had been in a bar brawl. I needed to take a break. I started to work my muscles around his dick, trying to milk out the ending of this thrashing. I bucked back onto him and he pushed in deep and grabbed my ass with both hands as he let go.

Afterward, we lay there, sweaty, dry-mouthed and spent. (Me, with an ice pack pressed against my jaw...) I had no idea what just happened. My jaw was hurting, I have bruises all over my ass and back. What the fuck just happened?

He looked at me, and with his eyes, he said, "I Am Jack's Smirking Revenge."

To Be Continued...

Have you ever had knock-down, drag-out sex?