This story contains explicit and sexual language and should not be read by anyone under the age of 21.
Habibi’s words are in red
My words are in pink
Hours before Habibi came to see me, we were texting about what kind of session we both wanted to have.
I wanted him to hate fuck me; a subset of PRIMAL PLAY that I recently added to my ‘MAYBE LIST’.
He was keen to hate fuck me but nursed a few reservations about my limits and boundaries.
“I want to do it,”
He wrote
“But I’m not sure if you can handle it.”
Habibi’s reservations were valid because I didn’t know enough about hate fucking to confidently say that I could handle a hate fuck session with a Dominant like him.
“I’m not sure if I can tbh, but I’m willing to test my limits. What does hate fucking look like for you?”
It was important that I got some kind of microscopic view of Habibi’s approach to hate fucking because his preferred method of asserting dominance is a potent blend of degradation, humiliation, and praise.
He’s also a Daddy Dominant who uses his cock to turn petite women into slobbering, drooling, tweaked out messes.
”When I hate fuck my partner, I’m rougher, harder, and faster. I’m also likely to call you my little bitch or little slut. There will be some light choking and more intense impact play.”
I blushed hard at his response.
Habibi is an intense and intentional lover - 2 attractive qualities - and I could already picture him fucking me hard in missionary position.
I definitely wanted the hate fuck session.
“You have my consent to hate fuck me. I want to experience it with you.”
“Good girl. I want to eat your ass tonight. Dress sexy for me. Wear a wig too.”
“Omg. Habibi! I already planned to look sexy tonight. But why do you want me to wear a wig?”
“Because I want to fuck you like a slut and I need you to look a certain way for that to happen.”
“Okay, no problem. Also, I want more control. 5% is too small. Don’t be greedy.”
“I am greedy about the things that I own. And I like to be in control.”
“Give me more control, please.”
“We’ll discuss it when I see you tonight.”
When he walked into my house, Habibi dropped his work bag on the chair before pulling me into his body.
He sighed sweetly as he rubbed my back and lightly spanked my ass cheeks.
“How are you baby?”
“Very well, Daddy.”
He stepped back to assess my look of the night: pink baby tee, leopard print capris, barefooted and barefaced.
“This is the first time I’ve seen you with a wig on in person,”
He remarked with a laugh
“Different, but I like it.”
“Thank you, baby boy. What do you want to do first: eat or chill?”
“I’ll eat first. I want to have you for dessert later.”
Unbeknownst to him, an hour before he arrived, I painstakingly set the dining table with plates and cutlery, a bottle of water and juice, napkins, and floss.
I switched to service submissive mode so I could get the most out of his Daddy archetype. But I must have served him too well because instead of hate fucking and breaking me, he did the opposite.
When Habibi saw the set up, he gave me a look, smiled, and then said
“Go get my food. I’m hungry.”
At this point in the first segment of our play session, Habibi had just ended a lengthy, sloppy, passionate kissing session that he started after he was done eating.
He kissed me so well that it brought me to an orgasm.
I was sat comfortable on top of him when I decided to bring up the conversation about getting more control.
“Can we discuss my request for more control now?”
Habibi’s eyes went dark before he responded to my question
“There was never any plan to have a discussion about giving you more control,”
His voice was low and devoid of affection and praise.
“You don’t deserve more, you silly little slut. You don’t even deserve the 5% that I’ve given to you.”
I had an immediate and visceral reaction to his words and let out a frustrated scream once realization struck like a slap to the face:
Habibi had a set a trap and I had willfully walked into it.
I beat on his chest, something he permits me to do because he enjoys it, with as much strength as possible.
I felt embarrassed, humiliated, and bad about myself, and that was by design.
I was incredibly aroused and ready to do anything to please him— also by design.
Habibi grabbed my wrists, pulled me into his chest, and put his mouth close to my ear.
“You’re lucky that I have even granted you some control,”
He continued in that low, dark voice
“You are a worthless slut who doesn’t deserve anything from me. No man will ever want you. I am the only man who will ever want you.”
Then he pulled his back to stare me down.
“Now, suck my dick like I’ve been starving you. Worthless slut.”
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