I’d always hated Valentine’s Day. VD is a fitting abbreviation. It’s a disease created by big business to make money off of love. Legal prostitution, baby, so suck it. Maisie was fond of telling me it’s because I’m single and bitter about it. Maisie was right, not that I’ll ever admit it to her. That was all before I met Ellie.

Ellie. Deep blue eyes that you could drown in. Golden hair that felt like silk when I ran my fingers through it. She blushed so beautifully when I told her that her pert little tits were perfect and nothing to be embarrassed about. Just as she was perfect. The perfect girlfriend. She wasn’t just pretty, either. She was clever. Much cleverer than me and prone to witty remarks that had me in stitches even in the most inappropriate places. During ‘I do’s’ at Wes and Dawn’s wedding. Or during Aunt Jane’s funeral. Maisie said it was nice to see me smile so much. It felt nice, too.

So, here it was. Our first Valentine’s Day as a couple. Yes, I hated Valentine’s Day with a passion but Ellie didn’t. She didn’t say anything. Just left little hints like drawing a pair of hearts on the calendar. Mentioning that she’d always like lavender roses better than red ones. Buying me a coat and tie just in case I wanted to go out somewhere nice. Less than subtle hints. And I didn’t want to disappoint. She had become too precious to me so I began to make plans and tried not to be too obvious, but I could see her eyes light up and twinkle when I’d ask her questions that gave away my intentions. What was her favorite restaurant? Abrazo. She was especially fond of the charred octopus. What was her favorite song? Fell on Black Days by Soundgarden. I listened to it online and had to rephrase my question. Romantic song.

“Hmm,” she mused, looking thoughtful, trying her best to hide a delighted smile from me. “Only You. The Pretty Reckless.”

I looked that up too. Ellie was a little strange sometimes. A little out of step with everyone else. It was just another thing I liked about her. It was something we had in common. She liked dark things. Horror movies. Heavy metal music. Books about serial killers. Things like that. The funny thing is, you’d never know it to look at her. She looked a little like a fairy and wore lots of colorful clothes. She even had a rainbow tattoo with the inscription ‘Believe in Magic’. She said it was a reminder.

“Just in case,” she laughed when I’d asked her. We were laying in bed. It wasn’t the first time that we’d made love. Just the first time I’d asked. She was so radiant. The memory is seared into my brain. Laying on faded blue sheets on my twin-sized bed, spooning. I’d traced each colored stripe with my finger, making her shiver with delight. And then I’d traced each letter.

“You don’t really believe in magic, do you?” I’d asked.

“Of course I do. Don’t you?”

I snorted dismissively at which she shook her head, her smile vacillating between joy and sadness for a brief moment before sighing.

“What do you call this?”

“This?”

“Us. You. Me. Making love?”

I’d shrugged thoughtfully.

“Nice.”

“Very nice,” she murmured, lifting my hand up to her mouth and kissing my fingertips. “It’s magical.”

“I guess.”

She just shook her head. “One day you’ll see.”

Later, when I told Maisie about it, she just smirked and called me dense. For once I didn’t disagree.

So I decided to make Valentine’s Day special. Not for me. Not because she expected me too. Just because I knew it would make her happy. Maybe I could even make it ‘magical’. I made reservations at Abrazo’s after wincing over the menu prices. I even ordered a dozen long-stemmed lavender roses. Apparently they were somewhat rare. And expensive. I found trousers that matched the suit and tie she’d bought me and dug out my good shoes. The ones I only wore for special occasions. And I made a mix on my iPod. Yes, I still owned one. Only You. Fell on Black Days. And a few other songs I know she liked, doing my best to keep the theme romantic. I even bought a card. Hallmark.

“What about chocolates?” Maisie had asked.

“I ordered flowers.”

“You know nothing.”

I ended up buying her chocolates in a heart-shaped box. Thinking she might get a kick out of it I crossed out ‘chocolate’ and scrawled ‘angel hair and baby’s breath’ on the lid with a black sharpie.

“Cute,” Maisie had commented then left it at that.

I picked her up promptly at 6. I had a thing for being on time. Bouquet of roses in one hand, a box of chocolates in the other. She squealed. It was cute. I watched as she found a vase and fussed with the flowers until they were, to her eyes, perfectly displayed. She was magnificent. Her dress matched the roses, clinging to her like a second skin. Seductive and playful. I knew that, unless I made some serious missteps, we’d be making love before the night was done.

“I have to do my make-up still. Won’t be but a minute,” she said when I glanced at my watch. It had been my father’s. I’m not usually sentimental. It was one of the few exceptions.   

“You already look perfect,” I told her, meaning every word.

She kissed me and laughed, her eyes sparkling, cheeks blushing.

“You are so sweet.”

It wasn’t a minute. It was 15. I hid my impatience well, I think.

We made it on time. Barely. Dinner was nice. Worth every dollar, not because the food was so good, but because I could tell it meant a lot to her. We had wine. Just enough to make us both a little giddy and, of course, dessert. Then she surprised me.

“Can we go back to your place?”

“I guess. I wasn’t expecting… I thought. It’s not…”

“I don’t care what it’s not.” She leaned over and whispered in my ear. “I don’t want to make love tonight. I want to be dirty.”

I blinked, nodding, my imagination going wild. I should mention that she liked to write. Just for fun. A lot of poetry or songs that she’d play to me on a guitar she’d bought in a pawn shop. Like everything else about her, they were always a little off-kilter with names like Cloud Cuckoo Land or Bubble Monkeys.  

“I write stories, too,” she’d told me.

“I’d like to read them sometime.”

“Maybe. They’re kind of… dirty.”

“Then I’d really like to read them,” I’d told her.

“Maybe,” she’d repeated shyly.

One day I’d happened to glance at her laptop while she had one of her half-written stories open. I hadn’t meant to snoop but my curiosity got the best of me.

Surrender. That was the title. And it was…  kinky. Not what I’d expected. BDSM. I wasn’t shocked as much as I was intrigued. While Ellie delighted in making love it was never… ‘weird’.  I didn’t think about it too much, but every once in a while when we were cuddling in my too-small bed I’d wondered if she wanted me to be… ‘weird’ with her. I probably should have asked but for some reason I couldn’t bring myself to. I didn’t want to ruin the moment.

“You should ask,” Maisie had prodded once.

“It’s not the kind of thing you ask your girlfriend,” I muttered.

“It’s exactly the kind of thing you ask your girlfriend,” she retorted.

Before I unlocked the door, I paused, keys in hand, still a little tipsy from the wine.

“I might have accidentally read one of your stories.”

There was a long pause. Long enough to make me nervous, before she said anything.

“Which one?”

“Surrender? Only a little bit. You hadn’t finished it.”

“And?”

“And I couldn’t help but wonder…”

“If that’s what I wanted?”

“Yes, I mumbled, knowing that I was blushing, unable to meet her eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes that sparkled with delight. I was suddenly afraid that if I did, they wouldn’t be sparkling. That they’d never sparkle for me again.

I felt a moment of panic when I pushed open the front door. I’d forgotten about Maisie. She sat on the couch, regarding me silently, her luminous brown eyes shadowed by glossy black bangs. Not a word was exchanged as I sheepishly led Ellie past and down the hall. I didn’t want to spoil the evening. I wanted it to be the perfect Valentine’s Day. If not for me, then for her.

There were two doors at the end of the hall. One led to my bedroom, the other…

“It’s what I want,” Ellie finally answered, blushing.

Wordlessly, I unlocked the other door. The one leading down to the basement. The stairs were lit by a single naked bulb that would soon need replacing. It flickered as I led her down, casting almost sinister shadows on the wall. I felt her press close to me. Felt her shiver. But her footsteps never faltered.

I’d thought about this. It was her fault, really. Ever since I’d gotten a glimpse at her half-finished story I’d thought about this moment.

“Close your eyes.”

I fumbled with my tie, using it to as a blindfold to cover her deep blue eyes, heaving a sigh of relief that the sparkle hadn’t left them. She wanted this, I reminded myself as I flipped the switch, illuminating the basement room.

The bed down here was bigger than the twin in my bedroom. Just a bare mattress. It was stained. She had said she wanted to be dirty. She said this was what she wanted.

I’d not only thought about it, I’d prepared for it. Just in case. I led her to the bed, guiding her, her hand trapped in mine. I undressed her slowly. She trembled and even let out a whimper when I brushed my fingers over her stiffening nipples. I thought it was a good sign that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Just panties. Lace panties. Sheer lace. I pulled them down her legs and left them on the cement floor before taking a moment to admire her, surprising myself as a surge of emotion welled up in me.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Ellie. I love you.”

It was the first time I’d said the words. I heard her breath catch.

“I love you too.”

It was as if she’d given me permission to do what I was going to do. Pushing her to the mattress I arranged her limbs just so. She didn’t struggle. I thought that was a good sign. This wasn’t the first time I’d used the manacles. Nor was Ellie the first girl I’d chained to the mattress. Semen and other fluids stained the surface. Dirty, she’d said. I’m not sure she meant it literally, but it was out of her hands now. I started with her wrists. Then her ankles. She looked perfect. Helpless. Her flawless flesh prickled with goosebumps as she lay there under my scrutiny. This is what surrender looked like. I’d only gotten a glimpse of her story. Enough for me to finish it for her. I’m not sure how her version would have ended. Tamer than mine perhaps.

Picking her panties from the floor I used them to silence her. Not that anyone would be able to hear her moans. Her whimpers. Her cries. Maisie might have, but Maisie knew better than to come down here.

I took my time, touching her intimately. Here. There. Everywhere. Pausing every so often to drink in her beauty as she writhed sensuously with each intimate brush of my fingers.  I’d already taken off my coat and left it on the back of the sturdy wooden chair I’d moved to the side of the bed. I unbuttoned my shirt and added that as well. Finally I pulled off my t-shirt, leaving me bare-chested. I felt powerful. I could feel the primal darkness rising up in me. I’d kept it hidden from her. From everyone. Only down here did I allow it to show.

I removed my shoes. My socks. My trousers. Dressed only in my boxers, I planted a kiss on her forehead.

“You are mine.”

She was. Perfect in every way.  She’d been right. It felt… magical.

Taking off my boxers, I freed my erection. I was hard. Impossibly hard. I ached for her. For her vagina. Her pussy. Her fuck hole. She was no longer Ellie, my girlfriend. She was just a cunt, one that I would fill with cum over and over until I was done with her. In her. On her. I’d use her pretty little mouth like a cunt too.

“My beautiful little fuck doll. I love you.”

I hadn’t meant to say the words out loud. I smiled as she whimpered, hearing them. As I stroked my  cock I removed the tie, the one she had bought for me, from over her eyes so she could watch as I stood over her, my swollen head inches away from her face. Surprisingly, her eyes still sparkled with delight. I wondered if they’d still be sparkling when I was done with her.  

“You are mine,” I repeated as I spit on her cunt, coating her smooth mound with saliva before laying on top of her and sinking my throbbing erection into her glistening fuck hole. Her pleasure no longer mattered. All that mattered was my need. I fucked her until I came. Once. Twice. Again and again, over and over, until I was spent. I was no longer her boyfriend. I was an animal filled with endless lust.  A few times I came on her tits. Her perfectly small perky tits. And her face. I wanted to drown her in cum. I exhausted myself, dozing off several times and then using her again and again. I couldn’t help myself.

Eventually I was done with her. I felt sick. I always felt sick afterward.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Ellie.”  

I began to carefully clean her, wiping down her silicone flesh with soap from head to toe, inside and out. washing cum from her silky golden hair before placing her carefully back in the box and putting it with the others, never to be opened again now that she was soiled.  I wanted to remember her as I’d first seen her. The first time I’d opened the box she came in. I’d only made an exception to that rule once. With Maisie…

I dressed before heading back upstairs where she waited patiently on the couch, her luminous brown eyes still retaining their sparkle.