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fucking thing I need is a kid!’
    Still, Jacob’s magnetism was undeniable. He wasn’t like any boyfriend I had ever had. We didn’t talk much about our lives or our dreams. Really, we didn’t talk much at all. Whenever I had free time, I would come to his room and knock softly on the door. After a moment, he would open it just enough to let me slip through. Sometimes, before even saying hello, he would press me up against the door and, taking my head in his hands, roughly kiss me until I was panting and ready for more.
    Often he would stay fully clothed, or almost so, but I was always naked. I would stand in the middle of his room, arms loose at my sides, as he unbuttoned my uniform. I would stay still as he slid the heavy, cotton clothing from my body, leaving only my T-shirt, bra, and panties. He would lift my arms above my head, smiling at me as he pulled the T-shirt up and off, and then unhooked my bra.
    For a girl who had spent her life to that point denying or at least hiding her femininity, Jacob’s domineering treatment of me had a curiously freeing affect. Somehow he made me feel beautiful, feminine, sexy, in a way no boy I had been with had ever managed. I felt completely sexual, completely vulnerable and open to him. It was electrifying. It was almost terrifying, but too much fun to be really scary.
    At first he made gentle, careful love to me, taking his time and making sure I was completely satisfied. I was no longer even the slightest bit shy: I wanted to be fucked. I craved to be used and sated and spent like someone’s fuck-toy.
    As the days passed, he started adding some twists to the game. Sometimes he would hold my wrists over my head while he forced my thighs apart with his knee. Then he would take me, sometimes roughly, making me cry out. I found it oddly thrilling when he did this, like he was some medieval knight claiming his prize. It never occurred to me to protest: he was my mentor, my teacher, my experienced lover. I accepted everything he did without question. I didn’t want to think about it, really. I just wanted it, all of it.
    Though it seemed in some ways as if we had always been together, really it had only been a few months, with meetings taking place only several times a week. A cadet’s time is not her own, for the most part. I thought I was falling in love with Jacob, and assumed he was with me, though neither of us ever said as much. Then one day, things changed.
    We had just spent an idle first few minutes, getting naked and snuggling together. Suddenly Jacob covered my mouth with one hand, grabbing my wrists in the other. Then, without warning or provocation, he slapped my cheek, hard. I gasped from the sting and the shock of his action. Twisting under him, I pulled away and managed to get free of him. Jacob was on me, all at once. He threw me back on the bed and pinned me flat with his body.
    ‘Going to fight me, are you?’ he said in a low voice, breathing hard from his exertions.
    ‘Jacob, stop it! You’re scaring me. I don’t like this. Let me go.’ My heart was pounding. I felt a rush of adrenaline not unlike the feeling I get when competitively cycling or wrestling, but with a definite sexual overlay.
    ‘You don’t like this? I think you do.’ Jacob’s voice was insistent, harsh. As he spoke, I felt his fingers entering and opening my pussy. He brought his fingers to my face then, smearing my juices along the cheek still hot from his slap, and on to my lips. I turned my head away, humiliated and embarrassed, yet, at the same time, secretly and intensely thrilled.
    ‘Jacob! No! Stop it!’ I started to struggle again, as much to distract him and myself from my own arousal at this treatment, as to escape.
    ‘No, Remy. You stop. I want you to stop resisting me. I want you to submit. Enough of these games. I’ve given you time. I know what you’re made of, slut girl. You can handle this. Don’t offer the coy little virgin shit anymore. We both know better. I