Title: Needing Pain
Author: Jos Mous
RATING: NC-17, and I'm really not kidding this time. PAIRING: Sam/Brooke
DISCLAIMER: None of these characters belong to me, I'm not making any profit blahblahblah
NOTE: Seems like everyone has their own smutty demons lurking somewhere inside their minds. This is mine, and it's not pretty.
The only thing I can hear in the darkness is the sound of my own breathing. I'm in her room, next to her bed. Kneeling, naked, head bowed, legs spread.
Waiting for her to get up from bed. Sometimes she lets me wait for an hour, once she didn't rise at all and I waited for her until dawn. Usually she only waits a few minutes. Tonight is no exception. She gets up and sits down next to me.
"I love you." She whispers in my ear.
She always does that. I think it's because she hasn't really come to terms with this yet. She means the words of course, but sometimes I think she mainly says them to relieve her guilt.
Guilt she doesn't need to feel.
I'm grateful for what she does.
You probably have no idea what I'm talking about.
I feel her hands moving across my neck as she attaches the collar. It isn't a 'proper' collar. It has no spikes or anything. It's just a simple strip of black cloth with a small ring.
"Stand." She says.
I stand up, my head still bowed. I don't deserve to look at her.Not yet.
She attaches the leash to my collar and, standing on a stool bought for this very purpose, attaches the other end to a small hook in the ceiling.
The parents are probably still wondering what that thing is for.She lifts up my chin, my eyes are closed, and gently kisses me on the lips.
"I love you." She whispers again.
I know what this means.
It's going to hurt tonight.
I feel myself getting wet at the mere thought of it.
Bet you're thinking that I'm a very sick person right now.
You're probably right.
I wait for the pain to come. My body almost quivers with anticipation. In a way the anticipation of pain, the not knowing when it will come, is more arousing than the pain itself.
The first lash comes and leaves a trail of fire on my back. I clench my teeth in an effort not to scream. I know she will stop when I scream.
I don't want her to stop.
More lashes follow and the pain sears through my body. Every nerve ending screams and I feel the fire burning between my legs. Lash follows lash and as the pain increases so does my excitement. I shut my already closed eyes even tighter, force my teeth to stay on each other, ball my hands into fists. The pain dances through my body and I feel I'm on the edge, but I don't want it to end yet.
Another lash lands its sweet bite on my back and I cannot hold it back any longer. I fling my head backwards as far as my leash allows me to and scream. The orgasm floods through my body, washing away the pain and leaving nothing than joy and contentment in its tide.
She unhooks me and allows me to lower myself in her embrace. I rest my head on her breast and enjoy the soft strokes through my hair. We won't be doing anything else tonight, we never do when she hurts me.
"Thank you Mistress." I whisper.
"Don't thank me," She says. "I hurt you."
"I wanted you to hurt me."
"I know. And that makes it even worse."
She doesn't understand.
She has seen what pain does to me, how much I enjoy it, how much I need it.
She doesn't understand, but gives me the pain I crave all the same.
Because she loves me.
Funny, isn't it?
NOTE: Well I think this'll prove once and for all that I really need help. I wasn't planning on continuing this, but something else popped into my mind and the only way to get it out is to write it down. Oh, and don't ask me where the title comes from. I haven't got a clue.
"I love you."
I can feel the collar being put around my neck once again. I like the feel of it, I really do. I sometimes even consider just wearing it to school or something. But she won't let me. She forbids it. So therefor I won't.
I wonder what is going to happen tonight. Usually the night after she grants me pain she treats me as an equal. The only difference between us then is the fact that I wear my collar.
She sometimes insists that I take it off.
That's the only time I disobey her.
To me my collar is a symbol that I belong to her and no-one else.
I can't just take it off.
It would be like saying I didn't love her.
She doesn't see it that way, of course. She never will.
But she has accepted it, like she has accepted me.
I can feel her kneeling down behind me. She gently strokes my back, her fingertips trace the lines she has left last night. I enjoy the feeling. I briefly experience the pain from last night again. I wish I could experience that again tonight.
Her hands move from my back towards my breasts. She strokes them, pinches them, caresses them.
I shouldn't, but I can't help it.
She knows exactly what to do, what I like.
She can play me like a violin.
Her hands move down and the heat in my body increases.
She's the only one who can do that without hurting me.
Her hands reach the source of my arousal. I'm already soaking. She knows every spot, every place and ruthlessly finds them. My breathing becomes ragged. She teases me relentlessly, always driving me to the edge, then backing away again.
Her hands continue to play me and I'm powerless against their touch.She again drives me to the edge, and I must use everything I can to stay kneeling, to prevent from falling to the ground. I can feel that I'm close, just one more touch from her and I know it will come.
And then she backs off. She stands up and walks towards the bathroom, leaving me wanting and unfulfilled. I can hear the faucet running, she's washing her hands. I remain kneeling, my legs still spread, my head still bowed. I ache for release, coming so close and not getting there is immensely frustrating.
She knows that.
She walks back into the room and goes back to bed.
"Go to sleep." She says.
I remain in my position, considering what to do. Go back to my own bed?
I curl up on the cold floor next to her bed. Still naked, still wearing my collar. I instinctively curl up into a foetal position. I'm still wet, still burning, still so close to release.
I could touch myself, but I won't. It's something I won't allow myself to do. My body doesn't belong to me, it belongs to her. I've given it freely to her a long time ago. And only she is allowed to touch me.
I can feel sleep slowly coming over me and I'm filled with love for her. She knows me like no-one else does. She knows what I want and need, sometimes even better than I do, even though she doesn't understand it.
Desire and need still rage inside me and I cherish the feelings. She could take them away with a single touch, a single word even. But she doesn't.
And I love her because of it.
The Other Side
NOTE: This story has only come about due to a pretty large feedback load I got out of the predecessors. So if it wasn't for feedback you would've never read this (HINT, HINT).
I love her.
I love her more than anything.
She likes pain.
I found that out pretty soon after we fell in love. At first I didn't understand. I thought it was sick and twisted and wanted to have no part of it. I thought if I just kept saying that long enough it might just go away.
Then one night -we had gone to the movies- we were making out in an alley.
And suddenly she winced.
Then I saw them.
Her arms were nearly covered in them.
And there were more all over her body.
She doesn't just like pain, she needs it.
Maybe it's because it makes her feel alive, maybe not, I don't know.I probably never will.
I considered threatening to leave her. If she wouldn't stop then our relationship was over.
I actually said that.
You should've seen the anguish in her eyes, the fear, the pain.I knew then that I couldn't leave her.
But I also couldn't keep turning a blind eye to her needs.So we made an agreement.
If she didn't hurt herself, I would do it for her.
That way I could make sure it never went too far.
She was so happy.
I'll never forget that first night.
How could I?
I was woken by the sound of the door to my room opening. It was dark, I couldn't see much except her walking over towards my bed, saying nothing, and kneeling down next to it.
As I got used to the lack of light I also noticed that she was completely naked, except for this strip of cloth wound tightly around her neck.
Turns out that's her 'collar' and that I'm her 'Mistress'.
First I asked her to call me by my name.
Then I ordered her to.
Then she asked me to never ask that again. She said she'd do anything I asked, but not that.
Then I got angry.
First the pain thing, now this submissive behaviour.
Why did she do it?
Did she get a kick out of it?
Did she think it was cool?
Then she said: "It's because I love you."
It immediately silenced me.
I think it's like she says. I think it's her way of saying she loves me. She loves me so much that she's happily given herself to me, allowing me to do whatever I want with her.
I think it also gives her a feeling of safety.
Bet that sounds strange.
But it it's true. I can do with her what I want. I could beat her to death and she would willingly accept it.
But she knows I won't. She knows I will take care of her.
I looked at her, not knowing what to do. She just sat there, naked, kneeling, waiting for me to do something.
I got out of bed, sat down, beside her, told her I loved her too.
She smiled, but otherwise didn't respond.
I stood up again, still wondering what to do.
I could ask her to pleasure me.
She would've done it, happily, without questions, without asking anything in return.
I admit it was tempting.
But I couldn't do that.
I would be taking advantage of her love for me if I did that.
I wanted to do something for her.
Then I remembered her cuts.
Not that I could ever forget them, mind you.
I took my ruler from my desk.
I told her to bend over.
I suddenly felt as if we were in some sort of bad porn movie.
Then I hit her.
God, I felt so miserable.
I love her, and yet here I was hurting her.
Then she started moaning.
I felt tears forming in my eyes, I thought it couldn't get worse.
I was mistaken.
I kept hitting her for about five minutes. I hated myself, despite the fact that she was so obviously enjoying every second of it.
And then she came.
I was crying, on the verge of being hysterical. She gathered me in her arms, soothing me, saying it didn't matter, that she was grateful.
Some 'Mistress' I am, huh?
It took me a whole ten minutes to calm down. She said she was sorry, that she should never have asked that. And she promised me she would never ask it again.
It could've ended right then and there.
And for a few weeks it did. True, she did wear her collar from time to time, but I didn't really notice it, it wasn't a sign of submission. At least, not to me it wasn't. But after a while something started to bother me.
Whenever we made love there was something missing.
She often came, but it just wasn't with the same intensity as that night.
I didn't want to deny her that.
I gathered all the resolve I could muster, made preparations.
I wanted to surprise her.
Sounds silly, doesn't it?
Then, exactly six weeks later, we more or less stumbled into my room, kissing, laughing.
Then the door closed and I immediately released myself from her embrace and became distant. Her eyes went wide.
I could see her thinking 'what have I done wrong?'.I looked her right in the eye.
"Strip." I said.
I hope my voice didn't sound _too_ shaky.
She immediately took off all her clothes, still not exactly understanding what was going on.
I walked over to her.
"I love you." I said.
I have to. I have to know I do this because I love her, not because I want to inflict pain.
The day I stop saying or meaning that is the day I will leave her.I attached her collar, then a leash, then hooked her up to the ceiling.
She was already soaked before I even took out the whip.
She moaned loudly when I struck her for the first time.
It took only three lashes to make her come.
I unhooked her and gathered her in my arms. She looked so happy, so peaceful, so perfectly content.
The guilt I was feeling started to evaporate upon seeing that. I tried to cling on to it, needed to feel guilty for hurting her. I couldn't.
What I did -what I do- makes her happy.
And I will never feel guilty about making her happy.
NOTE: It's getting increasingly harder to write this. After all, I _could_ just let the two of 'em have sex together indefinitely, but that'd just take away any power this 'series' might have.
What am I gonna do with her? Or, more to the point, what should I do with her? She's broken the second most important rule in our twisted little relationship.
She's worn her collar to school.
Sure, nobody really noticed it and if they did they'd think it was some sort of accessory.
But I noticed it.
And I know it isn't just an accessory.
The problem is, she also knows she has disobeyed me. And she also knows it was one of the biggest rules she broke. She expects me to punish her. If I don't, I just know she's gonna act very awkward around me for quite some time.
But I don't want to punish her.
Not for this.
Not because she loves me.
Because that's what it is, you know. She's wearing that thing because she loves me.
How could I punish her for that?
So here she is, sitting on my bed, clothed for a change, eyes cast down, waiting. Waiting for me to make up my mind. There's no fear in her, not even a little nervousness. She seems so completely at peace.
How can she do that?
I look at her and in some way I see what I'd like to be. I don't see some pain-loving submissive. I see someone who's completely at peace with her role in life.
I wish I had that sense of peacefulness.
But she has found that peace by completely surrendering all that she is to me. I could never do that.
God, it's so not fair. Even though I don't really like it I hold all the strings here, I can decide what's going to happen and what isn't. If I want her to pleasure me, she will. If I want her to go to school completely naked, she will. If I want her to drown herself, she will.
She's subjected to every one of my whims, and she's at peace with it.
And I'm not.
I sigh and look at her again.
She doesn't look back.
The collar is still firmly attached around her neck.
OK, so maybe she doesn't bend _completely_ to my will.
But she isn't doing it out of a sense of pride.
"What should I do?" I ask.
She looks up at me for a moment, surprised.
Her eyes are so beautiful.
Why can't I see them more often?
She looks down again, still obviously confused.
"Look at me." I order.
It's not so we can have some staring contest in which I will be the unquestioned winner.
I just want to see her eyes.
"What should I do?" I ask again.
"I… I don't know." She answers hesitantly.
"Did you do it to defy me?" I ask.
"NO!" She exclaims. Then she realises that she has raised her voice against her 'Mistress' and quickly looks down again.
"Look at me." I say again. "I don't like repeating myself." I add.
I hate acting this way. I hate putting up that cold exterior. Around her I'm usually myself, but in this case…
Well, I'm just not me at the moment.
"Why did you do it?" I ask. I know the answer, I just want to hear it out loud.
"I'm sorry." She says. Her voice is genuine. Of course it's genuine. She'd never lie to me. "But I belong to you. And this is the only way I feel I can really show it."
"I know." I say gently. I suddenly hope that maybe there is a way out of this that doesn't involve any unpleasantness for her.
"I'm sorry." She whispers. Tears start forming in her eyes. Her sense of peace is quickly fleeting and replaced by guilt for disobeying me.
"Don't cry." I say. My cold exterior is fleeting as well.
I sit down next to her, try to put my arm around her. She quickly pulls away. She believes she's not allowed to be touched by me. Not while she has still done something wrong as has found no absolution for it yet.
I try to swallow the sudden lump that has formed in my throat. There is only one way to make her stop hurting and that's by punishing her.
Ironic, isn't it?
"Alright." I say. "I've made up my mind."
She looks at me. There's a strange sense of relief through her tear-streaked face.
"The parents will be gone next week. During that week I will control your every movement. I know I've given you a lot of liberties."
Mainly because I don't want a slave.
"But for that's over for now. You are only allowed to wear clothes when you go to school. You get home immediately after, even if it means skipping any extra-curricular activities you might have. Inside you are not allowed to wear anything, not even that." I say, indicating the collar. She winces slightly. It's probably the hardest part of this punishment. "You cook when I say so, you eat when I say so, you sleep when I say so, you make your homework when I say so, you watch TV when I say so. The only thing you are allowed to do without asking me for permission is breathing, understand?"
She nods. A smile starts to appear on her face and I can only guess what she's thinking right now.
"Thank you Mistress." She says. She sounds so happy.
"I wasn't finished yet." I say. "You will also not feel pain for at least two months. And for every time I catch you 'accidentally' hurting yourself during that time I'm gonna add another month."
Her face brightened even more upon hearing that. I can't even begin to imagine why.
I lean forward and kiss her gently.
The week hasn't started yet, so I still get to enjoy the girl I fell in love with.
Next week I'll spend it with the girl I love.
It's hard to believe they are one and the same person.
But I love both of them just as unconditionally as they love me.
Black and White
NOTE: I think I’m starting to repeat myself. If I am, please let me know. Also, for the first person to guess which movie is showing I will personally write a fic with a pairing of your choice!!!
I can’t believe she actually allowed it. Of course, she did make me earn it.
I know she loves me.
But last week she was so cold and distant, that sometimes I feared the opposite was true. She didn’t show any sign of affection towards me. To her I was a mere tool, something to use to get what she wanted. She ordered me around when she needed me, she completely ignored me when I wasn’t useful.
But it didn’t bother me.
I deserved it.
There’s a price to pay for everything, and that was mine.
But I bought my collar for it.
After the week was over -and after a very large affirmation that she indeed loves me- she allowed me to wear it.
I bet that sounds really stupid. Being _allowed_ to wear a collar? Normal people wouldn’t think of a thing like that.
‘Normal’ people don’t have a clue.
They say trust is the foundation in any relationship.
Well, I completely trust her with my mind, body and even my very life. I trust her enough to give away everything I am in the knowledge that she will take care of it.
Show me the ‘normal’ person who can say that.
"It’s amore, baby."
I can’t help but snicker. That line surely had perfect timing.
She’s probably thinking the same thing since she leans over to me and puts her head on my shoulder as we watch the movie.
I look over at her, my interest in the movie completely forgotten.
She’s really a kind and gentle person. Not at all like the girl I spent last week with.
In a way she too has given part of herself away for me.
But, unlike me, she never really lets go of it.
And that’s what makes her different. Makes her even more special than she already is.
"What are you thinking about?" She asks.
"Who else but you?" I answer.
I think we might be getting a few stares now.
But who cares?
"I like this." She says as she manages to snuggle up even closer to me.
"Me too." I say.
She looks at me, smiling.
"That’s good to hear."
She looks doubtful for a moment. Can’t say I blame her.
"This just means I belong to you." I say, indicating you-know-what. "It doesn’t mean I can’t like stuff like this."
She just smiles again and returns to watch the movie. I look at her for a little longer, then return to the big screen as well.
"Wow, this is all starting to make a creepy kinda sense."
Figures, just missed an important plot development. Now that think about it, I probably missed a lot.
But we’re not here to see the movie.
We’re here to be together.
The movie ends, the screen fades to black, the credits roll. From what I still managed to pick up I figured that there were no _real_ bad guys. That nobody was out to destroy the world.
That nothing is as black and white as it seems.
Including the two of us.
|Jos Mous||Popular||Main Index|