 |
| Dollface |
It's funny how a simple sound can put the fear of God into you.
Things have been quiet and peaceful. Relaxed, even. It's been a long day, I'm tired, and I'm ready for bed. My head feels cloudy with fatigue and my limbs ache. It's one of those times when all I can think about are how crisp and clean and white my sheets are.
I start to worry when I catch your eye in the bathroom mirror. My hair is tied back off my face and I'm dabbing the last drops of water off my cheeks. You're watching me, and not with affection or mild amusement at how young I look without my makeup. No, this is something different, the kind of look that has only ever ended in my tears.
I feel your hand on the back of my neck and you dig your nails in ever so slightly. Not enough to worry me, exactly, but just enough for me to notice and furrow my brow.
You leave the bathroom and I pause before putting all of my bottles and cotton wool away. The light is bright, functional. It highlights the circles underneath my eyes. The strap of my nightgown has slipped off my shoulder and I'm almost too tired to bother replacing it.
I see your shadow in the doorway. You move behind me, insidious, one hand rudely pushing down the front of my nightgown and pawing my breast. You press into the flesh of my backside and through the thin fabric of my nightgown I can tell how much you're enjoying this. You lower your mouth to the curve between my neck and shoulder and sink your teeth into the flesh, the muscle pliant and springy beneath you.
I roll my head back and gasp suddenly, pulling away from you. I place my hand on your chest and shake my head.
"Please...I don't feel very well. Can I have a drink and go to bed? I'm sorry."
Your thumb traces the bite mark on my shoulder and you leave the bathroom. I never like turning you down - the opportunity rarely presents itself - but my tiredness pulses from the inside out and I feel like my bones have dissolved. My eyes are hot in their sockets.
I hear the creak outside the door, and my stomach lurches. That creak of you flexing your fingers in those gloves, the ones that have been coated in my blood and tears more times than I could ever care to imagine. No, not tonight. Please.
Your hands are cold on my shoulders; the leather not yet warmed to your skin. You sit me down on the edge of the bath and the enamel presses into my thighs. You stand in front of me and I keep my eyes focussed on your belt at my eye level.
You cup my chin in your hand and lift my face upwards. The light hurts my eyes.
"Not well?"
Your touch is tender, and it disarms me. You rub your thumb against my lower lip and push it gently between my lips, and I automatically suck it. Your other hand snakes down my body, in the dip of my waist, resting on my thigh before sliding my nightgown up around my hips. The leather rasps against my skin.
I hadn't dressed for you tonight. The knickers I'd put on after my bath were plain, white, unremarkable. Your fingers slip under them and I jump, jerking my head away from your hand.
"Sssh", you whisper, and your hand trails a path down to my throat where it rests lightly. Too lightly, you never touch me like this.
It's not that I don't want you. I always do. But I feel like I'm about to cry, and brimming with despondence and desperately wanting to thrust out my lower lip and go to bed and read my favourite books and have you stroke my back until I fall asleep.
"Please...no".
Your hand tightens around my throat.
"No?" Your voice is mocking, schoolyard. "Why not?"
You loosen your grip to let me speak.
"I don't feel well...I'm hot, and I ache."
I just want to go to bed, with you, you lifting a drink of cold cold water to my lips, the glass beaded with condensation. Make me better, make it hurt less.
You move your hand from my throat and tap lightly at my face, once, twice. You're making fun of me. I jerk my head away and put one arm in front of my face.
"Poor baby. Poor little angel. All hot and bothered and hurting".
Another tap, harder this time. I hate you. I hate that you're ignoring me, and mocking me, and the fact that each slap is turning me on. I hate that you know that, and you're exploiting it.
Tap tap tap. One-two, hard but nowhere near hard enough to challenge me, like you're laughing at my weakness. Silly little thing, is that all you can take? Brave girl, what's wrong with you?
"No!"
I'm angry with you. I want to cry and strop and storm out and wish that the hot, waxy fever in my head wasn't spreading all over me.
Your fist catches me square in the mouth and sends me toppling into the bath. My limbs are clumsy, awkward, crumpled in the enclosed space. That iron taste coats my tongue and my mouth is a mush of plain lips and coral spit and pink-tinged teeth.
You lean over me and place one hand flat on the bony part of my chest, pushing me down as if I were a pile of rags. Your other hand twists the cold tap and puts in the plug. Bloody fingerprints smear the swell of my breasts. You're fully clothed, shirt sleeves rolled up over your forearms. Not sullied with my blood or with the water that's now pooling underneath me.
You wipe your gloves on the skirt of my nightgown. It's my blood; it belongs there.
"You don't say no to me, you little cunt".
You flip the switch and close the door behind you. A neon glow lingers in my eyes as I feel the water creep up my hips.
My head throbs like the devil's toothache, and goosebumps creep along my skin.
I just want to go to bed and read my favourite books and have you stroke my back until I fall asleep. Even now.
| 17 May 10, 9:43 PM poutanaki UK(M), 10 yrs |
My god woman!! I'm running out of adjectives to describe how you write... that was stunning. You should write books. Your so pretty when your on your knees. Disinfected, eager to please | |
| 17 May 10, 9:46 PM CocoUK77 UK(EH), 2 yrs |
Zoiks! This sent shivers down my spine. Keep writing! Coco xxx Favourite saying: "Eyes down". No. Not bingo! | |
| 17 May 10, 9:48 PM mini_velvet UK(EH), 6 yrs |
poor rabbit xx I love the smell of sexual napalm in the morning. | |
| 17 May 10, 9:52 PM FairyGirl UK(YO), 3 yrs   |
I'm so glad I don't have to get up in the morning... I'm set for the night now. "Nothing saves anyone's life, Sir. It just postpones their death." - Posner , The History Boys. | |
| 17 May 10, 10:17 PM Crystal_Eyes UK, 5 yrs   |
Wow. <3 ------------------------------------------ | |
| 17 May 10, 10:30 PM hollythedolly UK(NN), 2 yrs   |
Hot Hot Hot Another one bites the dust. | |
| 18 May 10, 1:05 AM fluffy_welsh_angel UK(DN), 6 yrs |
Lady, you manage to make things that I am not 100% with something that I HAVE to do!  xxx Mew | |
| 18 May 10, 9:26 AM Felix_culpa UK, 2 yrs |
This. If you're not doing it already, you should write this stuff for a living. Reallyforreal. | |
| 18 May 10, 2:58 PM sparklydolly UK(HU), 2 yrs |
I really wish I hadnt just read this, Im really frustrated as it is... I agree though... stunning. sparkly x Im a broken doll, You're the puppeteer, Take control for me, And wipe away my fear - Paloma Faith | |
| 18 May 10, 7:54 PM Dollface UK, 6 yrs |
Sadly, my days as a profit-grabbin' smut peddler have not yet come. I think I'm a bit too niche, personally...  But thank you all for the comments, it is always appreciated. xxx "When you're going through hell, keep going." |
