Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Tomorrow he will hurt me

The beast is back. I knew he'd be back. The fiend ran into a very frustrating problem the middle of last week and I knew that would do it. So I wasn't at all surprised when I read something on FetLife indicating that he had gone where he goes when he needs to feed on extreme pain.

He had a good meal, but he wasn't sated. I could tell. He saw me the next day, he didn't really hurt me, but I could tell. I could hear the beast crashing through the woods, feel his breath on my neck. Sometimes I think of him as a huge bear who has developed a taste for blood.

I'm afraid and very, very aroused.
More aroused than afraid.

He holds back. He could be very evil, he could hurt me far beyond what I could emotionally handle. He pushes me, and sometimes I worry that he will push me too far. Sometimes I think he really doesn't care if he destroys my stability, if I crash, if he loses me. But I also think he's not ready to lose me, despite the momentary amusement my destruction would afford him. And he's experienced enough, despite his professed lack of concern for my condition, to read my signs quite clearly. Every time except one, he has changed his approach when he's realized he miscalculated. And that one time, when we clearly didn't understand each other and which he refuses to discuss so as to avoid an "I said - you said" situation - that one time, which led to a break of over a month... in the end, he approached me. And took me back.

So he will be here tomorrow. And things over the last few weeks have become closer and more and more intense. And tonight, when I asked him how a particular something from me makes him feel, what it made him want to do, he said it makes him want to stand over me and watch me writhing in pain.

He frightens me.

And he makes my cunt pulse and my womb contract with such force that I am bent over with the pain of my desire. I want him to hurt me. I want to give him my pain. I want to soothe his pain with my own.

I am his pet.
I am his angel.
And if I breathe, it is because he says I may.


Orlando C. said...

What a lovely way to pass the day, Oats. Almost as torturous as the pain itself, yes? Sometimes when I am out in the crowd...it is starting to be country fair season...I amuse myself wondering who else there is happy in the secret knowledge that they are going home to kneel for the belt.

But don't go getting lost, even for the nice man. Y'hear?

oatmeal girl said...

Oh Orlando, it feels so good knowing you're looking out for me!

(I assume, though, that there is more than a touch of irony in your last sentence. Because the fiend would be the first to say that he is NOT a nice man. I think he is, in fact, nice, but as only a part of his very complex make-up.)

mamacrow said...

' I think he is, in fact, nice, but as only a part of his very complex make-up.' of course! we all have light and dark etc etc.

and he does seem to have been, as you say, consistantly careful not to completely destroy you.

However... be careful still, just a little, ok?! that post was just a tinsy little bit scary... I mean genuinely scary, not sexy scary which I totally get.


Nancy said...

Delicious that frison of fear -- enjoy..

Orlando C. said...

It's a little after sunset here, and we're in the same time zone.

I am imagining you writhing.