A Kiss Denied (An Anonymous Confession from the Edge of the East Village...)

She seemed so sweet. Like the girl you hope to find on a sleepy summer night deep in Alphabet City... She was sitting alone at the end of the bar, a simple little spot, neither a dive nor fancy. A place to drink unapologetically alone. I was doing the same. Bourbon for me, gin for her. We caught eyes a few times before I wound up the courage to move in. "Mind if I buy your next one?" I believe that was my way of intro. Whatever it was, it worked. She invited me over and for the next two hours we shared drinks and stories and moved closer to the inevitable. If only I'd known...

Around 1am she polished off the last of her gin, spent a seductive second sucking on a cube of ice, then stood abruptly to leave. "Let's go," she said. It was the first forceful thing she'd said all night. I should have taken that as my cue and run at once to the restroom and locked myself in. Instead, like a fool, I followed her out the door. She told me she lived just a few blocks north. The invitation went without saying. We walked the blocks in silence; a strange energy rose between us. Neither of us spoke.

Her place was small and dark, the only door presumably hiding the bedroom. She made no move to turn on the lights. I took this as a sign and moved in. My arm wrapped around her waist, pulled her close. I went in for the kiss. She resisted, pulled away. "What the fuck do you think you're doing," she snapped. I backed away, mumbling apologies, moved for the door. "Guess I'd better leave," I stammered. My back was to her for only a second; that was all it took. I felt her hands grab my wrist hard, with practiced intentions. She yanked my arm up my back and pushed me against the door. "Where the fuck do you think you're going?" she hissed in my ear.

Before I could answer, before I could find any bearings at all, I felt my wrists being bound behind me. Then she kicked my ankles out from under me and down I went. I was smothered against the carpet, cheek pressing hard into the floor, a knee pinned into the small of my back. "Don't you dare move, you little shit," she snarled. "You thought you were so smooth, buying me a drink, sweet talking me like that." I didn't answer. "Didn't you!" she shouted." I managed something like a nod. I felt my shorts being yanked off, then my boxers. My erection, sudden, unexpected, pressed uncomfortable into the carpet.

She forced my thighs open. I felt a hot hand between my ass, then her fingers forced their way in rude and rough. One hand reached up and grabbed a fistful of hair; she pulled my head up and hissed in my ear: "Do you know who I am?" she demanded. I managed a miserable shake of the head. "I'm one of the Violet Fems, you little slut. I am the Kingpin. Prepare yourself for pain."

From somewhere in the shadows I heard the dark laughter of other women in the room...

TO BE CONTINUED...