I stumbled to the side, lost my footing and fell to my knees, and then I just cowered there while he screamed at me about how he’d controlled himself, wanting to wait for me to be ready, and I’d nearly given it away like some cheap puta. Was that what I wanted? To be taken in some back alley like a prostitute? And then he snarled, ‘If that is what you want, I can give you it!’ and I glanced up to see him undoing his pants.
“I just gaped at him. I didn’t understand. He’d saved me and now he was—” She shook her head with remembered bewilderment. “I didn’t understand what was happening. Why he was acting like that. Or maybe part of me did. There was a reason I’d been so uncomfortable with him. I’d known he wanted something from me, I just didn’t want to know. But while I was sobering quickly, I still wasn’t thinking clearly and I didn’t really understand what was happening . . . I still don’t to a certain degree.”
“What do you mean?” G.G. asked slowly.
“He was an immortal,” she explained. “I didn’t know about them at the time, but he was. He could have controlled me, made me do what he wanted, go to him willingly, but he didn’t and he was almost insane with rage. I think the whole exercise was just to humiliate and hurt me at that point. He was so angry and frustrated with me. But he stopped with his pants open, and grabbed me by the hair, yanking my head back and shouting ‘Look at me when I’m talking to you!’
“I cried out in pain, but I doubt he heard me, he’d moved on to bellowing again about my behavior and what could have happened to me. Then he bent and grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me and I just—I lost it,” she said, remembering the mad rage that had welled up in her the moment he’d touched her in that dark alley. It had filled her, pushing her fear and confusion aside and consuming her.
“What did you do?” G.G. asked.
Ildaria closed her eyes briefly as she recalled the moment. “He’d opened his pants, but not all the way, and he hadn’t taken himself out, but his movements had dislodged his cock. It was dangling in front of my face and—” Opening her eyes, she tried to explain how she’d felt. “I wanted to hurt him for threatening and frightening me, for even thinking of raping me in that alley, and I pushed forward in his hold and bit the weapon he’d threatened me with.”
G.G. blinked, and then asked carefully, “You mean his penis? You bit his penis?”
Ildaria grimaced. “I didn’t just bite it, G.G. I clamped down on it and started sawing my teeth back and forth, determined to bite through. I wanted to unman him,” she confessed, almost ashamed of herself and still a little bewildered by the insane rage that had claimed her. It had come on so hard and fast. Shaking her head at the memory, she continued. “Blood was squirting into my mouth, but I was so furious that I didn’t care. I just swallowed and kept gnawing away at his cock, determined to remove it from him so he could never hurt or humiliate another girl again.”
G.G. had released something like a grunt, his legs instinctively closing protectively as she spoke. Now, he asked, “If he was immortal, why didn’t he take control at that point and stop you?”
“I don’t know,” Ildaria said helplessly. “Maybe the alcohol was making me hard to control. Or maybe he was just so shocked and horrified that he didn’t think to take control of me then. But he didn’t,” she said with a shrug, and then added, “Instead, he pushed me away rather violently . . . which had the unfortunate effect of finishing what I was trying to do . . . I fell back on my butt with the amputated bottom half of his cock in my mouth.”
G.G. made a pained sound, but she ignored it and continued, “He dropped to his knees clutching himself and screaming in agony, then fell over and lay writhing on the filthy ground. I just watched him with a kind of horror at first. The rage was gone as suddenly as it had struck, leaving me confused and shocked by what I’d done. But when his agonized screams turned to moaning, I regained enough