Excerpt~  It Was Meant To Hurt You

 

It was meant to hurt you." Said the man.
He was covered with nothing but a long black cloak. She saw the outlines of his pale skin against the darkness that her eyes grew accustomed to. There was nothing to see when he wasn't there, nothing except blackness.
She vaguely remembered that she could see once. Remembered black walls, a metal chain covered with dry blood, a whip, a knife tray on a black stool, but there was no light to be reflected from their sharpened edges. She guessed her skin was as pale as his, even more since it's been a lifetime since she had been exposed to sunlight. But she couldn't know for sure; she couldn't see herself, she wasn't chained that way.
There was a faint recollection that in the beginning her entire body felt sore from the way she had been stretched but she grew accustomed to it too.
She wasn't even sure she had a body anymore. The only times she was more than a floating consciousness were the times he was there. His presence drew her attention back from her darkened world back into her shattered body.
Master, he called himself. Nothing more, no explanations. Just Master.
"But who am I?" she asked once.
"You are mine." Came the answer.
She was. What other meaning could she have?

She remembered hating him at first. She remembered hearing him, pain. It was all so far now, so vague. A part of another life. another her. She tried to kick the flame of hatred within her, blowing on the red embers. Its existence gave her something, only she couldn't recall what.
Now this pale body was there, and she was grateful…
This time, it was the knife. slowly, almost gently penetrating the skin of her back, carving a line in what she thought of as her shell. His presence, combined with the intriguing sensation of being again part of a physical self, made her more aware. She felt a small liquid part of herself escaping through the crack in her skin, running down her body. A strange, caressing feeling. Her mind painted a red line in the blackness.
The softness of his tongue was warm against her torn skin. when it came again, another meeting of metal and flesh. She shivered under the knife. Why Why? She couldn't tell. It used to be painful, then, gradually, it became an odd sensation of edged gentleness. Now there was only warmth, comforting in its existence. Without it, she was empty, nothing but vacant flesh.
He moved. She could tell that from the way the air stirred around her. She could see him again. The black whip was standing out against the whiteness of his form. He swung it, leaving nine strips of what was supposed to be blindingly hot pain. It wasn't, the warmth grew stronger inside her. Her body writhed with it, submitting its bound self to the dance of sensation. Its recollection of being more than an empty skin shell awakening. What remained of her former self tried to raise the question of why she was becoming aroused by the pain. For her present self, it didn't matter.

"It was meant to hurt you." said Master. There was surprise in his usually calm, quiet voice. "Did it hurt you?"
Her mind tried to form words out of the abstract thoughts that filled it. I… don't… know…"
Leather slashed the air again. A sound came out of her mouth. Not a scream of pain, though. His lips stretched into a smile. "You are ready." He said.
Metal shaking. Her body drops down. The cold touch of stone.
Her hair pulled back, throat exposed, teeth sinking into soft skin. The caress of the liquid again.
Master whispers: "Do you want me to conquer you…?"
"I… am… yours…"
"In heart?"
"Yes."
"In soul?"
"Yes."
"In body?"
"YES."
Then a sharp movement. He is inside her. The thumping sound of skin on skin, warmth spreading in her blood. He shoots his essence inside her. Master howls like an animal. Her hair is pulled further back. Pain, new sensation. Warmth explodes deep inside of her. She is shaking uncontrollably on the cement floor. She joins her cry of pleasure to his own.
Master rises, detaching himself from her. Leather is wrapped around her throat, replacing the metal. There is a thin, silvery chain attached to her new collar.
Master wraps it around his hand. Master pulls the chain toward the light.. She wallows out of the darkness, making her muscles, unaccustomed to movement, scream out: stop, it hurts, stop.
There is no stopping, not for present-self's muscles, present-self wants nothing, this one only wants what Master says she wants.

Master bends down to her, grabbing her by the hair.

"Do you love me?"

She hears herself whisper

"yes, how could I not?"

Master then kisses her lips;

"I know you do bitch!"