I don't know how to.. Hell, what am I saying? He's probably just going to take this notebook away from me and read all my thoughts anyway, so why even bother trying to think things through? For me, that's why. I need to decide how I feel and what I am going to do about it. I need to get my head out of this fog that I've been in, and decide what I'm going to do about all this that's happened to me. So maybe I should list out the positives and negatives and try and logically decide how much I hate or don't hate this asshole.
The sex was mindblowing, up until the silver.
The silver. The asshole is forcing me to be human but treating me like a dog. At least give me the modesty or privilege of being a dog if you're going to treat me like one.
The food is delicious. Not that I was starving before or anything, but I haven't had so much meat in forever, and damn can he cook.
The coffin. I hate sleeping in something, being trapped. I can't go to the bathroom if I need to, and I hate being in human to sleep.
The pain. I hate living in so much pain all the time.
The unpredictability. I never know whether I'm going to step on a crack and get punished for it. I mean, I guess I'll learn from it eventually, but right now everything is a fuck-up on my part. Everything I do get's me in trouble, even when I'm not going out of my way to spit in his face.
He understands what blood does to me. The hunger, the aggression, the lust that it pours in my mind. He uses it to my pleasure and He doesn't think I'm a freak because I want to fuck when I smell blood.
I can't stand that He keeps calling me "Bitch" and "Puppy". It makes me want to rip out His throat every time, and He always uses it when I'm helpless.
I miss the sunlight, the outside, I want to go shopping again.
I feel like I belong here. There's something about this place that feels like home, and I think I would feel lost if I were to leave.
I'm nothing to Him. I want to be important, I want to be more than a booty call, hell, more than a dinner bell to Him. --Why do I want to matter to Him? I hate Him, I hate being trapped here, I hate being used as a fleshlight, I hate being tortured every day to follow some invisible rules that I don't even know.---
My wants and needs and opinions mean nothing to Him. He would never ask me what I want, or how I want something done.
There are so many things here that I would love to do if I was allowed to. I would love to have a flashlight and a book while I wait for my body to heal during the day. It would be amazing to watch a movie, even if I have to sit on the floor on a glorified dog bed to do it.
I miss my vibrator.
That's a pretty decent list I guess, but it doesn't help me decide anything. It just shows me how torn I am. Pros and Cons to Obedience, and then Pros and Cons to Disobedience:
Pro: If I follow His rules, I will be in less pain.
Con: If I follow His rules, I will be a lifeless spineless fucking wimp slave.
Pro: If I follow His rules, I might live longer? Ugh let's stick to definites here, girl. If I follow His rules, He'll let me bathe myself.
Con: If I follow His rules, I've taken the easy road, and not tried my other options. (What other options?) I'll lose all self-respect
Pro: I don't know if I can keep up this pace for much longer, and If I follow His rules, I will get a rest.
Con: None of these are definites. If I start obeying, He may push me even harder to obey even more rules, and keep hurting me, which is being pushed even farther than I want to go anyway.
Pros and Cons to Disobedience
Pro: It's so much fun to piss Him off when He wants me to listen.
Con: It hurts when He punishes me for not listening.
Pro: I heal and won't have a problem as long as I keep getting 12 hours a night and food.
Con: He may give up and kill me.
Pro: I respect myself for standing up to Him.
Con: What's the point in self respect if I'm dead?
Note to Self: I'm kind of attracted to Him. (Crossed through and erased.)
Seriously Girl. You have 3 hot meals a day, you have a bed (-type thing), you live in a huge mansion that has at least 16 bathrooms just on the first floor, and the sex is the best you've ever had. Sure, He beats you every night, but you're built for that! All you have to do is play His little game, be a pretty little puppy, and suffer through it, enjoying the good parts where you can. If you worm your way into His heart, you'll be set for life.
Ugh. Who am I kidding? I'm not that girl, I can't fake being a good little bitch if I don't feel it. It would last about a day, and then... I'd be in the box again without breakfast. Fuck! What do I do?
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He fed on her, using His fangs for the first time. He let her disconnect from reality, and then He dove in, too. He stopped drinking her and opened the door to her mind, but this time pushed deeper than He'd ever pushing into someone's mind before. This was for the long run, and He wanted to find out more about this one. He wanted to really get into her head and meet her needs, especially if she would become His long-term slave.He went through so many layers of things that he could see just by looking at her, and finally, finally, He made it to the level of things that she didn't know about herself.
slave wants to be used, not just useful or helpful like many. she aches to be used like one would use a toaster, or a toy, or any inanimate object.
slave needs pain to cope with her fears.
slave needs a strong hand and swift correction.
slave needs physical touch to heal on schedule.
Her mind was a maze on the inside. Everything was a puzzle, and there were pieces that contradicted themselves. There were girls inside her mind who knelt to serve Him, and there were huge animals that tried to devour Him, and there was a huge knight in silver armor on a black horse that came charging down the path of the maze and tried to strike Him down with her sword. The knight was left-handed. The littlest girl offered Him an animal dripping blood, for Him to eat. It turned into each animal that He had thought it might be as He thought of the kinds of meat He used to like. As He bit into it, it turned into a human heart, and was still beating. There was a teenager sitting in a garden bench in the maze. She was crying constantly and never stopped, but she was obviously happy.
The secrets of this girl were together and separate. They made no sense without the larger pieces and pictures. She was secretive and open.
She desperately clutched her independence but she needed structure and direction. She was living in a den with others, but had no real authority, or place in their pack. She felt alone in the midst of them. She was just one of too many females, and didn't bring in enough food to earn the good fucking she deserved from the few males in the group.
She wanted the expensive sexy clothes of the models on television.
She preferred wolf form unless she was alone, and the sun was shining. Then she would run to a meadow and lay naked like a mermaid on the rocks, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the feeling of freedom and the sounds of the world. She would pretend that there was no technology, no cars or planes or phones, and she would listen to the animals and sleep there.
She needs an anchor and a steady guiding hand, but she can't admit that she likes it just yet.
She always wanted to know her limits. She used to burn her hand at night when no one was around. She would hold her hand into the flame from the small candle she had until she couldn't handle the pain anymore, and then she would watch it heal. He could tell from her memory that her hand could easily have taken a lot more damage, and that she was curious how much farther she could go, but that she couldn't do it by herself. She needed a friend or playmate to push her to go farther. She needed a friend who would dare her to keep going even after it started to hurt.
Anyone that gets between this girl and their food might end up with a bite out of them, because food and anything in between can be mistaken for food. It was almost like watching a shark's eyes roll back into it's head when it eats. Add into that a mix of possessive "that's mine" spirit, and desperation to eat in case the next meal doesn't happen, and you have a perfect explanation of why not to mess with her while she's eating.
He took in as much as He could, calculated the effort He would have to put into training her, thought about the pain and the struggles and the suffering, and the amount of fight she would retaliate with... and smiled. He wanted this one. It would be a challenge beyond any He had accepted before, and He definitely liked the fight in her. If she ever respected Him (He was willing to accept that she might not) it would be hard-earned, and respect that meant something to Him. Yes, He would own this creature. He would crush this creature down into nothing, break her spirit, utterly destroy her body (His mind briefly went to all the different ways He could destroy her body with His dick), and then train her, and bring her back up, teach her to care for and respect herself, Him, and the things He allowed her to have. He loved that she hated pain but needed it. He would enjoy fulfilling her needs, no matter how much she despised Him for it at the start.
He stepped back from her mind and into the present again. She was writhing under Him in the throes of sexual urges, and some of the blood from her neck had spilled from her neck down past her collarbone and in between her breasts, halfway to her stomach. He took one last sip, and brought her back from her orgasmic paradise with a hand pinching each of her nipples tightly, and twisting. She moaned, and then realized where she was and who was doing it to her, and tried to struggle out of it, reaching her right hand up to push his hands off of her, and in doing so got her own blood all over her hand and smeared it around on her chest before realizing that the wetness was her own. She looked down at her hand, saw the blood and almost came right on the spot. He quickly moved on top of her and, after shoving through her fresh cherry, ("Didn't I already do this?" He thought. "Oh yeah, it grows back. That's kind of fun.") gave her pussy something to clench down on. She took her time, licked the blood from her hand, and then began trying to get away from Him. She wanted to be the aggressive one, and He was going to stomp that urge into the ground once and for all, until she pushed herself up so that she was looking Him in the eyes, both her hands pulling His hair, and her legs were wrapped around His torso, and she growled, and then yelled at Him, "Fuck me hard you son of a bitch! If you're going to torture me, rape me, and violate every single damn right I have, then You'd better make sure I'm at least sexually satisfied, and not pussy-foot around having sex with me. You know I can take it, so fuck me, damn it!"
It was the right thing to do. He granted her request.
He could see the animal part of her straining against the silver every time He thrust deeply or caused her pain. She was so used to putting the pain off onto the animal part that her body was trying to do it automatically, even though she knew she couldn't shift. It was beautiful to see her fresh, young body take so much pain. She screamed and growled and whimpered, and she was aggressive but not by any means the dominant one in this coupling. When He started ripping her apart from the inside out, her face started to get an alarmed look on it, and He wondered that she didn't expect Him to start hurting her sooner. It was an expression that He soon found Himself addicted to, and it inspired Him to cause all sorts of new kinds of pain just to keep seeing the surprise and pain and shock that He would do **that** to her.
----
He doesn't bind them together until He breaks her. He won't give her any advantages or rewards for fighting Him 100%. He's going to have her connect to Him before He gives her the first mark (of four, the final one connecting them for life). The four marks are like the four stages of relationships, really.
dating, courting, engagement, marriage. hmm. Maybe it's casual sex, dating, engagement, lifelong partnership
Eventually, she will feel like this. Sweet Surrender, by sarah mclachlan
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