Pearly Whites

The first time someone used me, I thought I was a ship on the horizon, helplessly waiting to be tossed as I saw a storm coming in. I thought I was sailing out at sea, a place I had chosen to be, but getting to a point where not even my wits could help me. It was not until the thunder was rattling my bones and the lightning was blinding my eyes, that I knew that I was not a helpless ship - I was the kraken.

This was my first date in a while, naturally enough since I had recently been in a serious relationship for the last year and a half. But I was lonely, horny, and sexually touch-starved. The guy had been very forward on the dating app, but I kind of had been too, so it seemed okay. I told my friends I was going into the city for this date. I told them where I was going to be, and to watch out for a call from me, just in case. I met him at my favorite place, a cafe-bookshop combination with good beer. He was older, nice enough, working on a graduate degree. We walked around his campus after. He asked if I wanted to come back and “cuddle” at his place. The bus ride there was nerve-racking. We didn’t hold hands, it wasn’t like that - only sexual, not romantic. His roommates were there, but they were on their way out on a Friday night. They exchanged looks with him, as he placed a possessive hand on my lower back. I was no longer present in the situation. My mind removed me, letting life happen to be now. I saw his hand on my back more than I felt it. He guided me to his room. He had a TV in there. He even asked me what I wanted to watch. I let him choose. I didn’t want a movie that I liked to be playing, just in case. We laid down on his bed. I left room for him to be big spoon. This is all I wanted, to be cuddled and touched as someone desirable. I only wanted to be assured, I didn’t want to do anything about it.

A few minutes into this dumb pseudo-science movie, his hand started to wander. Making out could be fun, I thought. I let his hand go up my shirt, to knead my breast.

He kept asking if we could keep going, and I kept saying no, until I realized that it’s safer to say yes, to let it happen. Things progressed, and I realized I didn’t know where I was, besides a state of self-preservation.

“Do you have a condom?” I asked.

“No, I forgot to buy some.”

Luckily, I had some, so he couldn’t deny putting one on. I didn’t want him over me. I’d rather have him behind me - I didn’t want to look at him.

He inserted himself into me with a groan. It didn’t hurt, but this isn’t what I wanted. As I would tell friends later, his definition of consent didn’t match mine.

“Damn, you feel good.”

He could feel the ridges inside me. Some condoms comes with them, I have them naturally.

He started to wince as the ridges tightened.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, only a little snug.”

He was so glad to be inside me, he didn’t think too much about it… until my inner molars started to sink in.

“Damn, you’re so - ow - tight!”

“Want me to get tighter?”

“Yeah baby...”

My inner molars were fully out now, and they started to chew.

“Ow! Fuck!”

He tried to remove himself, but the canines at my inner labia had started to take hold too. They’re the best for ripping apart flesh.

He couldn’t remove himself. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel him squirming. His panic was starting to set in.

“Don’t you like me on your dick?”

“Why can’t I get out?”

“Because you didn’t listen when I kept saying no,” my canines dug deeper, “until I knew saying yes,” and deeper still, “would be safer. When someone says yes to sex, just to be safe, then that’s not a yes, it’s no for survival. That’s not the kind of sex you want to have, but it’s the kind you’ve got.”

“Please, stop!”

“You WANTED THIS!”

My own oral molars had started to grind.

“Why should I let you go? Why don’t I just bite it off right now so I make sure you don’t do this to someone else?”

“I’ll never do this to anyone else, please, let me go!”

My voice softened, sweetly - “Promise?”

“I promise with my whole heart and dick and body, please!”

My inner molars retracted, acting as ridges again. The canines started to retract too, but only partially, as a warning. I’m sure he was looking down so he wouldn’t scrape past them. I waited as he removed himself, until the very last moment, and then the incisors in my outer labia chomped down on his tip.

His scream made my night. The louder it is, the more they keep their promise. I have had too much experience to know.

20 minutes later, I was with one of the friends I had told to watch out for my call. “How’d your date go?” She asked.

“It sucked. He had no personality, but at least now he has a story about going to urgent care at the end of a date.”

She smirked at me.

“Do you think he’ll tell anyone?”

“Yeah, if he doesn’t mind admitting he has, and hopefully now had, a bad definition of consent.”

I grinned, showing off my teeth with my mouth still closed.

Inspired by Alexa Baczak’s Write What Terrifies You