“You deserve the pain I give you.”
She shakes her head, denying it, but I drop the knife and clench her face roughly in my hands.
She isn’t rejecting the fact that she disagrees with the pain. She feels as if she’s earned it. It’s the fact that she’s getting something she wants, something that feels so fucking right on her skin that she can’t accept.
Being worthy of something isn’t in her vocabulary because she’s been torturing herself for as long as she can probably remember. She doesn’t know anything else.
“Hurt me,” she begs, and I know what it takes for her to do it.
“I’m going to take you nice and slow, baby. Be patient.”
She doubles her efforts to get away just like I knew she would.
I find myself wanting both sides of her—the woman who needs the pain but also the one who desires the soft touches and gentle words, because they make her feel loved not because she’s using them as another form of punishment.
It may take years, but I’m willing to put in the work to achieve both sides of that woman.
She ended things once, muttering the two words I gave her, and I don’t know why she doesn’t whisper them now. Maybe she thinks they won’t make a difference since I just caught her trying to kill me.
She’d be right of course.
That safe word may stop what I’m directly doing, but it will never again be a full release. I need her, and as long as I do, this woman is mine. I’d prefer to only have her tied to the bed when we’re playing, but I’m flexible on the idea of hand feeding her and walking her to the bathroom when she needs it for the rest of her life.
“Angel,” she whispers, tears streaming from her eyes and rolling down her temples.
Her plea encompasses so much, and it has so many confessions right on the tip of my tongue.
“I’m going to hurt you.”
She nods.
“I’m going to fuck you raw.”
She nods again.
“I’m going to keep you when I’m done.”
Her eyes lock onto mine.
“I can’t do that,” she finally whispers.
“I’m not giving you a choice.”
More tears flow down her face as she swallows.
“Promise?” she asks on a sob.
“Yeah, baby. I promise.”
A serenity I’ve never seen from her before settles over her features, but it only lasts for a second before she’s back to struggling.
I chuckle as I pick the knife up and cut into her jeans. I don’t make the mistake of releasing her hands because I know she’ll try to claw my eyes out.
“Don’t fucking touch me!” she screams when I cut a hole big enough for my hand to slip through.
I’m met with slickness, her desire as hot and as prevalent as I suspected.
“You run and I’ll chase you to the ends of the fucking earth,” I warn as I release the hand pinning hers above her head. “Now get my tits out.”