Fandom: Primeval
Characters: Christine/Lester
Story: Demons
Rating: R/M
Warnings/Spoilers: Non-explicit mentions of kink
Author's Note: I wanted to write something porny here, but it came out like this instead.
Summary: He wished he had never heard the name Christine Johnson
Demons
He wished he had never heard the name Christine Johnson.
She’d been an undergrad. He, an assistant to the department head. She’d been coy, flirtatious. Willing.
Then demanding.
It was almost an accident, the way the subject came up initially. They were entangled, breathless on his small bed, and she did something. Something that hurt. Something that made him cry out. Something that also made him harder than he’d ever been before.
She noticed.
It was only six weeks. Six amazing, incredible, mind-blowing weeks. Six weeks of her bringing some new toy or other to his flat every night. Six weeks of sitting uncomfortably at his desk, nursing various welts and bruises across his thighs and backside. Six weeks of dressing carefully every day to avoid disturbing raw skin and overstretched muscles. Six weeks of counting down the hours until he saw her again, and could let go.
Under her control, he no longer had to be proper. He no longer had to be refined. He no longer had to be reticent. He could rage, scream, cry… release… without worry, without shame, without fear.
Then came the end of the year, and her ultimatum: Ensure that she got passing marks, or the video she’d been secretly taking of their sessions would be released to the entire department.
She got the marks. He got the tapes. And burned them, along with every ounce of desire he had.
It was three years before he was able to be with anyone again, and he always chose mousy, ineffectual women. Married one, too. He thought he’d beaten the demons inside him—the ones that couldn’t fully enjoy sex that didn’t come with a side of pain.
Then she came back.
As she walked away, brushing him off like he was nothing in pursuit of some other goal, all the old feelings came back: The humiliation, the anger… and the arousal.
After all these years, she was still in control.
Characters: Christine/Lester
Story: Demons
Rating: R/M
Warnings/Spoilers: Non-explicit mentions of kink
Author's Note: I wanted to write something porny here, but it came out like this instead.
Summary: He wished he had never heard the name Christine Johnson
Demons
He wished he had never heard the name Christine Johnson.
She’d been an undergrad. He, an assistant to the department head. She’d been coy, flirtatious. Willing.
Then demanding.
It was almost an accident, the way the subject came up initially. They were entangled, breathless on his small bed, and she did something. Something that hurt. Something that made him cry out. Something that also made him harder than he’d ever been before.
She noticed.
It was only six weeks. Six amazing, incredible, mind-blowing weeks. Six weeks of her bringing some new toy or other to his flat every night. Six weeks of sitting uncomfortably at his desk, nursing various welts and bruises across his thighs and backside. Six weeks of dressing carefully every day to avoid disturbing raw skin and overstretched muscles. Six weeks of counting down the hours until he saw her again, and could let go.
Under her control, he no longer had to be proper. He no longer had to be refined. He no longer had to be reticent. He could rage, scream, cry… release… without worry, without shame, without fear.
Then came the end of the year, and her ultimatum: Ensure that she got passing marks, or the video she’d been secretly taking of their sessions would be released to the entire department.
She got the marks. He got the tapes. And burned them, along with every ounce of desire he had.
It was three years before he was able to be with anyone again, and he always chose mousy, ineffectual women. Married one, too. He thought he’d beaten the demons inside him—the ones that couldn’t fully enjoy sex that didn’t come with a side of pain.
Then she came back.
As she walked away, brushing him off like he was nothing in pursuit of some other goal, all the old feelings came back: The humiliation, the anger… and the arousal.
After all these years, she was still in control.
