Sarah’s Revenge

It was a cold December evening when Sarah arrived at the dimly lit bar, her leather jacket pulled tight against the wind. The place hummed with muted conversations and clinking glasses. She scanned the room, spotting him almost immediately. He sat in a corner booth, nervously checking his watch, his tailored blazer and pressed shirt making him stand out in the gritty crowd.

Her lips curled into a smirk. “David,” she whispered under her breath. The name tasted bitter on her tongue. Years ago, in high school, he had been the golden boy—charming, arrogant, and casually cruel. Their brief fling had left her feeling small and invisible, an afterthought in his whirlwind of ambition. He had been her first, taking her virginity with the same careless ease he had given her attention, leaving her with nothing but a hollow memory. But now, things were different. Very different.

David didn’t recognize her as she approached. How could he? Gone was the quiet, mousy girl with a penchant for oversized sweaters. In her place stood a woman covered in ink, each tattoo telling a story—some dark, some grotesque, all of them mesmerizing. Her once-brown hair was now a cascade of electric blue. She exuded confidence, her every step commanding attention.

“David?” she said, her voice dripping with faux innocence. His head snapped up, his eyes widening slightly. For a moment, she thought she saw hesitation, but then he smiled—that same cocky smile she remembered.

“You must be Sarah. Wow, you look…” he trailed off, searching for words. “Different.”

“I get that a lot,” she said, sliding into the booth opposite him. Her gaze bore into him, and he shifted uncomfortably, his polished demeanor faltering under her scrutiny.

“So,” he began, trying to regain control, “tell me about yourself.”

She leaned back, draping an arm casually over the booth. “Oh, you know, the usual. Grew up here, got out as soon as I could, found my way back. Life’s a circle like that, isn’t it?” Her tone was breezy, but her eyes remained sharp.

David nodded, but she could see his unease. He kept glancing at her tattoos, lingering on the more graphic ones—a serpent wrapped around a bleeding heart, a skull crowned with thorns. “Interesting ink,” he offered weakly.

“Each one tells a story,” she replied. “Maybe I’ll share some with you tonight.”

As the evening wore on, Sarah took the lead. She ordered for both of them, cutting him off when he tried to speak. She leaned in close, her voice a low purr as she told him stories—some true, some invented—designed to unsettle him. He was captivated despite himself, drawn to her in a way he couldn’t explain. The usual confidence he carried into dates was gone, replaced by a strange, disconcerting vulnerability.

At one point, she rested her hand on his, her touch both firm and unyielding. “David, have you ever thought about how the choices we make ripple through time?” she asked, her eyes glinting. “How the way we treat people can come back to us in unexpected ways?”

He hesitated, unsure if this was a rhetorical question. “I suppose so,” he said cautiously.

“Good,” she said, her smile widening. “It’s important to reflect.”

By the time they left the bar, David was visibly rattled. Sarah led the way, her stride purposeful. Outside, the cold air bit at their faces.

“Where to next?” he asked, his voice unsure.

She turned to face him, her expression unreadable. “That depends,” she said. “Are you ready to see who you really are?”

David stared at her, the bravado that had defined him for so long completely eroded. He didn’t understand her words, but he couldn’t look away. For the first time in his life, he felt powerless, and strangely… he didn’t hate it.

David wasn’t sure about his chances with Sarah until she invited him back to her place. His mind raced with possibilities, and he thought he was going to get lucky. But Sarah had very different plans. As they walked into the night, Sarah felt a flicker of satisfaction. The scales weren’t balanced yet, but they were tipping. Tonight was only the beginning.

When they arrived at her apartment, Sarah gestured for him to sit on the worn leather couch while she moved to the kitchen. The space was eclectic, adorned with bookshelves crammed with odd trinkets and dark artwork on the walls. She returned with two glasses of whiskey, handing one to him before settling into a chair opposite.

David took a sip, the warmth of the drink steadying his nerves. “Your place is… interesting,” he said, his eyes wandering over the artwork. “So, about your tattoos,” he ventured cautiously. “You said each one tells a story. What’s the story behind…” he pointed vaguely toward her arm, “that one?”

Sarah’s lips curved into a smile, but her eyes were cold. “That one?” she asked, rolling up her sleeve to reveal a jagged design of a broken heart stitched together with barbed wire. “That one’s a reminder,” she said softly, her voice like a blade. “It’s for someone who took something precious from me and treated it like it was nothing.”

David’s smile faltered, but he quickly covered it with a laugh. “Sounds intense. Did they ever apologize?”

“Not yet,” Sarah replied, her tone light but laced with menace. She leaned forward, her gaze locking onto his. “But I believe in giving people chances to make things right.”

David felt a chill that had nothing to do with the whiskey. He couldn’t quite place why, but something about her words made his skin crawl. He forced a smile, trying to shake the unease. “Well, here’s to second chances,” he said, raising his glass.

Sarah clinked her glass against his, her smile unwavering. “To second chances,” she echoed, her voice steady. But in her mind, she thought, And to settling the score.

Sarah set down her glass and leaned back, crossing one leg over the other with a commanding air. “Tell me something, David. Have you ever been pushed beyond your comfort zone? Really tested?”

David chuckled nervously, sensing the intensity behind her words. “I guess not in any serious way. Why do you ask?”

Her smile was predatory. “Because I think tonight is the perfect night to explore limits.”

His brow furrowed, but before he could reply, Sarah rose from her chair and extended a hand. “Come with me.”

David hesitated but felt an inexplicable pull. He followed her down a short hallway to a bedroom illuminated by the soft glow of a crimson lamp. The walls were adorned with more artwork, some abstract, others unsettlingly vivid.

Sarah turned to face him, her electric-blue hair catching the light like a halo. “You’re used to being in control, aren’t you?” she said, her voice low and commanding.

“I… suppose,” David stammered, his confidence waning further.

“Good,” she replied, stepping closer until they were mere inches apart. “Then tonight, you’re going to let that go. You’re going to let me lead.”

His heart raced as he nodded, unable to find his voice. She reached out, brushing a finger along his jawline before gripping his chin firmly. “Trust me,” she whispered, though her tone left no room for refusal. “You might just learn something about yourself.”

She stepped back, her eyes never leaving his. “Take off your clothes,” she instructed, her voice steady and devoid of hesitation.

David blinked, caught off guard. “Uh… okay,” he said awkwardly, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. He assumed this was her way of initiating intimacy, and a nervous thrill coursed through him.

As he stripped down to his boxers, he glanced at her, expecting her to follow suit. But Sarah didn’t move. Fully clothed, she crossed her arms and tilted her head, watching him with an air of amused detachment.

“You’re not… joining me?” he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Her lips curled into a wicked smile. “Oh, no,” she said smoothly. “This isn’t about me. Tonight is all about you, David.”

Sarah glanced down at David’s boxer shorts, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Nice choice,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “I didn’t peg you for the cartoon-print kind of guy.”

David’s cheeks flushed crimson as he glanced down at the innocuous pattern on his boxers. “They’re… comfortable,” he muttered, avoiding her gaze.

“Comfortable,” Sarah repeated, savoring the word like it was a private joke. She leaned against the wall, arms crossed, her eyes piercing. “Well, comfort’s overrated, don’t you think? Take them off.”

David blinked, caught completely off guard. “You… want me to…?”

“Is there an echo in here?” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, David. Off. Now.”

Her unwavering tone left no room for argument. He hesitated for a moment, glancing at her fully clothed figure, feeling a rising tide of embarrassment. Still, he found himself complying, sliding the boxers down and stepping out of them. Now completely exposed, he stood awkwardly, his arms instinctively moving to cover himself.

Sarah tilted her head, her expression unreadable. “Much better,” she said, her voice calm but commanding. “Now sit down. And keep your hands at your sides.”

David obeyed, lowering himself onto the edge of the bed, his vulnerability amplified tenfold. He felt exposed, not just physically, but emotionally, stripped of the bravado he typically carried. It was a sensation he wasn’t used to, and one he wasn’t sure he liked.

Sarah approached him slowly; her every step deliberate. She stood over him, her presence almost oppressive. “You’re not used to this, are you?” she asked, her voice soft yet laced with dominance.

“No,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

She crouched slightly, her face level with his, her electric-blue hair brushing his shoulder. “Good,” she murmured, her lips curling into a wicked smile. “Tonight’s about stepping out of comfort zones, remember? And you’re doing so well.”

Her words sent a shiver down his spine. He didn’t know where this was leading, but one thing was clear—Sarah was in complete control, and for the first time in his life, David had no choice but to follow someone else’s lead.

Sarah’s eyes glinted with mischief as she circled David, her movements slow and deliberate, like a predator stalking her prey. There was no escaping the feeling that the air between them had shifted, thick with unspoken tension. She leaned in, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper.

“Have you ever explored your feminine side, David?” She took a step closer, her presence commanding, forcing him to meet her gaze. “Have you ever worn women’s clothing or makeup?”

David’s brow furrowed at the unexpected question, confusion evident on his face. He wasn’t sure if he should laugh, scoff, or refuse outright. It was an idea so far outside of his comfort zone that it left him momentarily speechless.

His initial reaction was defensive. “No. What are you—”

Before he could finish, Sarah’s smile widened, a knowing look flashing across her face. “You’d make a very pretty girl, David,” she said, her voice dripping with playful seduction. “Let me show you.”

David opened his mouth to refuse, but the glint in her eyes made him pause. There was something in her tone, something that held a quiet authority he wasn’t used to. Something that made it impossible to simply walk away. He felt the pull of her dominance and, reluctantly, he allowed her to guide him.

She moved swiftly, undeterred by his hesitation. Sarah dressed him in a pink babydoll nightie, the soft fabric a stark contrast to the usual hard lines of his masculinity. She slipped on a pair of delicate crotchless underwear, adjusting them with a gentle but firm hand, as though the act itself was a power move, claiming him in a way he hadn’t expected.

David was still caught in the haze of surprise, his thoughts muddled. He hadn’t expected this, hadn’t expected to feel so exposed, and yet… something stirred within him. At first, it felt ridiculous, almost laughable. But then Sarah placed the makeup in front of him, her hands steady as she applied it—dark, bold red lipstick, accentuating the contours of his lips, as if she was re-shaping his very identity.

He looked at himself in the mirror, and for the first time, he felt a flicker of confusion. The reflection staring back at him was foreign—feminine, delicate, and yet undeniably him. The humor he’d found in the situation started to fade, replaced by a growing discomfort. Was this really him?

Before he could think too much about it, Sarah’s presence was there, steady and unwavering. She stepped in front of him, moving slowly as if savoring the moment.

“You’re beautiful,” she purred, her voice full of dominance, yet strangely soothing. “And very kissable.”

David froze, caught between the unease of the moment and something else—something he couldn’t place. His chest tightened, but Sarah didn’t give him time to respond. She closed the distance between them with a smooth, calculated step, her eyes fixed on his lips. Then, without hesitation, she kissed him.

It wasn’t a soft, tentative kiss. It was bold, possessive, and commanding—exactly the kind of kiss a man might give a woman. Sarah kissed him the way she took control: forcefully, confidently, as though she were claiming him in every possible way. Her lips pressed against his with undeniable power, her hands curling around his neck, drawing him closer, forcing him to submit to the intensity of the moment.

David’s breath caught, his pulse racing as Sarah deepened the kiss. He was torn—his mind screamed to pull away, to regain control, but his body didn’t respond the way he expected. Instead, he felt something within him stir, a strange heat, an undeniable pull toward the woman who had taken charge so effortlessly.

The kiss lasted longer than he expected, and when she finally pulled away, David’s thoughts were disoriented, his chest heaving. Sarah stepped back slightly, her eyes glinting with satisfaction, her smile full of knowing. She didn’t need to say anything for David to understand that this was her domain now.

“You’re starting to understand, aren’t you?” she whispered, her voice low and steady, full of authority. “You’re mine, David.”

She led him to the bed, her hand firmly guiding his. She didn’t wait for him to settle on his own—she told him what to do. “Lie down,” she commanded, her voice leaving no room for argument.

David obeyed, though unease and reluctance still churned inside him. He lay back on the bed, staring up at her as she watched him carefully, her expression one of quiet triumph.

The room was silent for a long moment. Sarah didn’t speak, didn’t move. David could feel the weight of her gaze on him, the expectation thick in the air. Something inside him was on edge, as though he was waiting for the next move, unsure what would come.

Then, without warning, Sarah turned and left the room. The door clicked softly behind her, leaving David in the solitude of the bed, the unfamiliar feel of the nightie clinging to his skin, the unsettling feeling of being out of control growing.

Time passed, though it felt longer than it probably was. David’s mind raced as he tried to piece together what was happening. He wasn’t used to this feeling of helplessness, of uncertainty. Sarah had taken the reins, and he was left to follow.

Finally, she returned.

David’s breath caught as she stood in the doorway. She had changed. Gone were the clothes she’d been wearing earlier, replaced by a simple black bra and a pair of black tights. But it was not her clothing that drew his attention, she was wearing a strap-on!

She didn’t speak immediately. She just looked at him, her gaze unwavering, a smirk on her lips that made his heart race. There was a power in her stillness, in the way she controlled the space around her. Every inch of her was calculated, deliberate. Every move, purposeful.

“I going to fuck you, David” Sarah said, her voice smooth, commanding. The words were simple, but the way she said them, the expectation in her tone, made it clear this was not a request.

David hesitated. The kiss they had shared before still lingered in his mind—powerful, unsettling—and now there was more in her eyes, something dangerous and intoxicating. Something he wasn’t sure he could walk away from.

“I don’t know about this…” David murmured, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

But Sarah wasn’t phased. She moved closer, her body a force of nature, her eyes never leaving his. “You’ll want it, David. I’ll make sure of it.”

“David,” she whispered, her voice a silken thread that seemed to weave through his mind. “You’ve been in control of everything for so long. I can see how much you want to let go. To let me take the lead. Let me guide you.”

She leaned in close, her lips brushing his ear as she spoke softly. “Wearing the belt is about control. Trusting me to take you somewhere you’ve never been before.” She pulled back, her gaze never leaving his, an almost playful glint in her eyes. “I promise, David, you’ll like it. I won’t let you regret it.”

His heart raced, torn between the desire to submit to her and the hesitation that still gripped him. The strap-on symbolized something he wasn’t ready to face—something that pushed him past his boundaries in a way he wasn’t sure he could handle.

David was quiet for a moment, his mind whirling with the complexity of what was happening. The trust she offered felt real, undeniable. But the act of giving in, of letting her fully guide him into this unfamiliar space, was more than just physical—it was emotional, too.

Finally, David exhaled slowly, the tension easing in his shoulders as he met her gaze. “Okay,” he whispered, the word coming out almost like a surrender. “I trust you.”

Sarah’s smile deepened, her eyes softening with satisfaction. “My favorite position is doggie, David. I want you turn around to get on your hands and knees.”

David moved slowly, but he complied with her command.

Sharah moved in behind David, her movements fluid, assured. She didn’t rush. She only moved in a way that felt inevitable, as though this was the next step in a journey that had already begun.

As she positioned her plastic penis, David could feel his heart pounding in his chest, each beat a reminder of the shift that was happening within him.

The tension between them was electric, thick with anticipation. David could feel his body responding, his resistance weakening as he heard Sarah apply lubricant first to her dildo and then; after pulling his panties aside, he felt more lube squirted on his anus.

Sarah was not gentle. As soon as the lube was applied, she grabbed David’s hips and started forcing her plastic cock into his rectum. Pain was excruciating and David yelled as Sarah drove shaft of her cock until her pelvis slammed against his butt. Then, without pause, she started pumping it in and out.

David tried to pull away, but Sarah pushed took one hand off his hip, placed it in the small of his back, and she pushed his face into the pillow. Grabbing his hips with both hands again, she started pile-driving, pegging him with all the energy she could muster.

David’s knees collapsed, sending his body crashing prone on the bed as Sarah continued fucking him furiously.

After fifteen minutes and without ceremony, she pulled out of him, stood up, unbuckled the strap-on, and let it fall to the floor. Before leaving the room, she slapped David’s butt hard with her open hand, “Thanks for the fuck, David.”

David did not see her leave the room. He remained face-down in the bed for an indeterminable amount of time before he was able to collect himself. Crawling out of the bed, he stripped off the soiled panties and took off the dress before going to the bathroom.

He did not recognize the face in the mirror. He scrubbed the smeared makeup off his face and sat on the toilet. As he farted out a bladder full of air he felt lube and god knows what dribbling down the cheeks of his ass.

“I’ve been there after I’ve had my ass fucked, David.” David looked up to see Sarah standing in the doorway of the bathroom. “Actually, I have only had the experience once, in high school, right after you took my virginity.”

David started to put the pieces together. This was the Sarah he had fucked on the hood of his car. It was a high mark in his young life when he got both pussy and ass in the same night.

Tossing David his clothes, Sarah began, “David,” her voice flat, mater-of-fact, “I don’t think this is going to work.”

His stomach dropped. “What? But… I thought—”

“Yeah, I know,” she interrupted, her tone dismissive now. “You thought we were having a good time, didn’t you? Get dressed and get the fuck out of my house.”

David opened his mouth to say something, but she was already moving. Without another word, she walked to the front door, grabbed the door, and swung it open.

David hurriedly threw his close on. “Sarah, wait—what are you doing?” David asked, his heart pounding in his chest, his confusion mounting.

Sarah didn’t answer. Instead, she gave him one last look—cool, disinterested, and entirely in control—and pushed him through the threshold.

Without a word, she kissed him one final time, just as hard and just as unexpectedly as before. It was almost like a punctuation mark, sharp and final, leaving David no room for anything else.

Then, without a second glance, she slammed the door in his face.

Sarah’s revenge was complete. She had taken David’s virginity just as brutally as he had taken hers so many years before. She was already planning in her head the tattoo that would commemorate her victory.

David stood there for a few moments, utterly stunned, his thoughts spinning. For him, there were no final moments of clarity. Just the echo of her heels fading down her hallway and a deep feeling of humiliation.