She was assigned to me.
“She wants it rough,” they said.
“She wants you to use her,” they commanded.
I was eager to obey.
I grabbed her by her blonde hair and she squealed in delight. I forced her head down to be level with my waist and I walked her to the corner. She shook with excitement. I shoved her into the corner and lurked over her. She glowed with anticipation.
I choked her and she smiled.
I ripped off her shirt and she moaned.
I tore off her panties and she opened her legs.
I slapped her face and she pouted.
I bit her nipples and she whined.
I slipped my fingers into her cunt and she protested.
“I’m not ready,” she said. “I want a spanking. I want to be tied up. I want you to make me want it.”
I heard everything she said. I bent her over till her head was in the corner. I put the lube on my cock. I entered her.
She cried out. Her fists hit the wall in annoyance. Her body squirmed with her tantrum.
“This is not how I wanted it!” she said.
I know. She wanted to be seduced with roughness. She wanted her will broken down with her permission. She wanted to be the architect of her distressful passion.
Instead, I used her.