How does this feel?

It had started on the wrong foot, to be sure.
He'd been out to kill me. To take back what his company owned.
My heart.
And yet he'd taken mercy, bowed to my-- pleading. I'm ashamed to say it, but I did plead.
"NoRepo Man, you don't have to do this, I'm sure we can work something out..."
We did. The first time, I was scared. it had been years-- YEARS. Since I had had to service a man, something I thought I'd never have to do again. Something from the dirty days of my past.
But I got down on knees already stiff from the day's work, the joints creaking, and let him have control, something... I NEVER enjoyed.
He was forceful with his control, and it hurt and for some reason, a week or so after he left me, bleeding but alive... I had to find him again.
And I found him in the oddest of places, with the oddest of faces. The repo man, without the helmet... it was his daughter I had been hitting on, his daughter who was so sweet and innocent and trusting... but this repo man...
I started following him around, and I could tell it was pissing him off. So it happened again, that loss of control, that pain.
I started needing it.
And somewhere along the way, he started needing me.

I moved in with him about a month later, after a particularly violent bout of repo sex... he was so different in that leather suit, so much more in control and so very... delicious violence that seeped out of his careful control. Marks would be left, cuts in my skin, bruises, bite marks if he pulled off the jaw of the helmet.
And after this one bout, with red marks and blood dripping down my back, he told me in his gravvely deep and rough voice, made worse after sex, that his whore needed proper washing, or he wouldn't want to fuck me again.
I couldn't lose that, could not stand the thought.
So I followed him home.
His daughter was unsure at first, but became slowly accepting.
After all, Daddy was happiest with me.
I couldn't stand it. He was so sweet when she was around, so soft and fluffy and... too nice.
I couldn't understand how he did that, then at night with just me.. It hurt. The days were torture, and then his work made him leave the house some days... I took it out on her.

She was too trusting when I started, and I showed her how it could hurt. That wasn't her thing. But she couldn't say no... daddy wasn't there... and I was bigger and her tears stopped my own.
And I kept hoping she would tell her father. Perhaps he would be upset with me, perhaps Nathan would break apart and Show her that I was not the only monster in this house, show her that the pain she had been recieving was but a softened echo of my own.
But how could she keep standing it? She never said a word, never showed him the marks I left. Hell, I started leaving marks to echo my own, a scratch here, my nails instead of his scalpel, a bit here, leaving a bruise where his had broken the skin.

Tonight I had her pinned beneath me, he legs bent up and out of the way, wrist trapped in my hand, mouth filled with my tongue and cunt filled with my cock, he other hand dragging the nails deep into my arm. She should be used to this by now, used to being stretched, to being filled, to being fucked, but she would never begin expecting it. she treated each of our encounters as if it were the last. And tonight was no different as she fought and struggled to get free of me. He'd sliced me the night before, and I ranmy fingers down her chest in preperation to cut into that soft skin... and this was how he found us.

The door crashed open-- I was not where I belonged, and we were not exactly being quiet. And here he was in all his angry, selfish, Dominating repo man splendor. I pulled away from her face to look at him, lazy smirk twitching across my face.
"hallo repo man." He slapped me, then pulled me away from her, barely sparing a glance at his daughter.
She was unimportant just then, as he pressed me down, as he leaned over me and began undoing his pants.
Unimportant until she whimpered, and he jerked his head up and saw her and then glanced down at me, glaring.
He grabbed me by the hair and yanked me to my feet, my hands coming up reflexively to grab at the hand atop my head.
"Get back to her."
I stared at him, horrified.
I knew he was a monster, but this was beyond anything I'd expected him capable of.
He wanted me to fuck her? Fine, give him his show... maybe he'd reward me for it later.
She was sobbing into her wrists, delicate and dainty and curled up protectively to hide her eyes, her legs folded close to cover her cunt.
I pulled at them, impatient, and repositioned myself.

With one more glance over my shoulder at this man, my lover, her father, our captor, I took up a rythm, unhurried, performing now, A grin present. I wouldn't cut her now, that might make him forget what he was allowing me to do.
But I never became so engrossed in her twat that I did not sense him approaching behind me, circling around us. His hand on my back, tracing the marks he'd left, and I could almost feel his smirk of satisfaction. I grunted a little, trying to form words.
"Is this what you wanted?"
He didn't say anything, but pushed the upper half of my body down on hers, forcing my weight off of my arms and onto her torso, her small breasts, perhaps not yet fully developed, squishing up against me.
And then that sound, zipper and snaps, and that feeling I had come to fear and loathe and love.
And he was in me, without lubricant, without preparation.
Pain.

And yet here I was within her, her legs shaking, her muscles trying to reject me... it all felt so good. And my poor body was so confused. It didn't know what to feel, wouldn't tell me what to say.
A wordless sound left my lips, somewhere between a moan and a sob, as the pain over came the pleasure and I stopped. He slid back, and out, and grunted a gruff command for me to continue.
I whimpered, it was all I could manage. Tears and pain... and I hurt. the hurt filled every part of me and I didn't know how to stop him. He was usually more considerate than this, at least as far as lubricant, and I croaked out,
"Please, Lube..."
He chuckled darkly, and the next thing I felt was a slice of a blade on my asscheek, up and around to the other, not deep, but enough to draw blood.
Blood that was collected and spread on his cock, and he once again ordered me to move.

I complied. What else could I do? maybe it would hurt less if I felt better... maybe he would hurt me less if she felt better. I brought my hand to her clit and rubbed, stiff, harsh strokes, designed to distract her from her tears. She gasped.
"P-Please." I didn't know if that was a good thing ot a bad thing, but she was not sobbing mindlessly, so who cared?
I was moving in her, and he was moving in me and there was soft scrapes forming on my back, lines of stinging where the salt of my sweat met the skin he'd broken with his blade.
This was so sick and fucked up and so damn unhealthy.
I loved it.
"I'm gonna come." I informed... I didn't know. Him. Her. The room. He wrapped his arms around me, sharp blade pricking me unintentionally in the chest, and he thrust.
I screamed.
And came into her, her arms flying back to her face, her mouth open and a soft keening wail coming out. The noises merged, and it was like the most heartbreaking music you ahve evr heard.
I stayed within her, and he kept pushing, kept going, not yet satisfied, pushing me into her more with every thrust.
Her warning watch sounded, but he told me to pay it no mind, and sped up.
And then she passed out, just went limp on the table.

And he didn't stop.
Not until he was done, until he'd filled my ass with his own come, and then he pulled me off of his daughter and cleaned her up, cleaned himself up, and took her back to her room.
He paused on the threshold, and didn't quite look at me.
"Get out."
And just like that, it was over.
I didn't know what to do.
And so I'm here in my alley, and you're up against this wall, and I have one question for you:
How does THIS feel?