“Put me in your mouth,” he said, lying naked on his back, his cock strong and insistent. The bloated radiator hissed in the fusty Winnipeg apartment. The world outside was frozen stiff. I wasn’t sure what was more embarrassing, not knowing what he was asking for, or gagging when he shoved it deep into my throat. He was twenty-nine and he wanted it all.

“Turn around, get on all fours, I’m going to come in from behind.” He instructed me, manipulated my body like play-dough until I was exhausted and saggy. I had been so determined to resist him; he had never been what I thought of as ‘my type’, but now in one messy evening of intoxicated abandon I felt addicted to him, powerless to choose, unable to imagine how I would cope without him. What had become of me?

“You’re a natural, Jodie.” He already knew how to get to me, his voice soft and tender as he rammed himself into my submissive body. That one night changed me in ways I could never have anticipated. He possessed me.

For the next two days we lived on sex. Keith’s fridge was pretty bare except for the milk that went with the strong coffee he fed me when my energy got low. He kept me working for half a day. Teaching, pushing, shoving. Moved me from the bed to the floor. I was too tired to know what I was doing anymore.

By mid afternoon of day two, my exhaustion inexplicably turned to weightlessness. I found a second wind from the air I gasped while his thick fingers stretched my mouth.

“Training you to open wide.”

My jaw strained as tears formed in the corners of my eyes.

“You okay?” he asked.

I could only shake my head, with his fingers jammed into my mouth, my throat swelled large.

“Are you hungry yet? There’s not enough meat on you to make a sandwich.”

I was well beyond hunger but it didn’t matter. Like Marianne Faithful, I didn’t care for food much. I thought if I got tiny, people would be kinder to me.

“Come on.” He peeled my body off the bed, stood me up. His arms wrapped around me like a strait jacket. I couldn’t see my clothing anywhere. I was nineteen and things felt weird up between my legs.

“What did you do with my underwear?”

“Why do you need your underwear?”

I tried not to cry as Keith jumped to his feet on top of the mattress and began to lip-sync and play air tambourine to As Tears Go By. I watched his penis swing from side to side. “I don’t want you wearing underwear when we go out.”