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| Dollface |
I'm going to be good tonight.
Not in a trite kind of way, you understand. I don't play a role of a bad girl or anything like that. But I want to prove to you that I am capable of not being a pulsating mess of a girl.
I thought dinner would be a good start. Somewhat traditional; a wholesome image of the good little homemaker. Time and effort and dedication, as opposed to just getting on my knees.
You're enjoying the food, and that pleases me. I have that little smile of inner pride in your pleasure in something I had taken time over; something I had created. I'm chatty and polite; no flirting or throwing those loaded fuck-me gazes over my glass. It's all going well.
We finish our meals, and I clear the plates and return with more wine. Just enough to relax; not so much to get that mildly inappropriate buzz. The conversation trickles along nicely and I feel the muscles in my neck relax, warm and pliant and supple. The room is soothingly dark and scented, candles making shadows dance under your eyes. In this light, they look oildrop black.
You reach over and brush my cheek with the back of your hand, and it takes all my strength to suppress the flinch, that wild-eyed reflex that I know you like. Your hand is gentle, but assured, knuckles grazing my skin. Your gratitude, your thanks, running so softly along my jaw.
I lift my chin slightly and smile shyly at you. My eyes scan your face for the slightest glimmer, the tiniest flicker of sadism. A shadow of a grin plays at the corner of your lips.
“You're trying so hard for me, aren't you?”
My smile freezes on my face, a brief snapshot of my prior comfort.
“Hmm?”
Your grip tightens on my chin, and I feel my eyes widen. You move my head from side to side, like you're inspecting me.
“Trying so hard. This meal. This setting.” You suddenly push my face to the side. “None of the usual warpaint. Plain-faced”.
I feel my features twinge. That hurt. Your laugh is low, subdued.
“Oh, darling. That got you where it hurts, didn't it?”
You pull my face to look straight at you, and it's uncomfortable. That slick, insidious desire to hurt me is etched across your face. I feel my teeth clench and my instincts tell me to move away from you, out of this room.
You move your thumb closer to my lower lip; so close that you can feel my breath hot against it. I hold your gaze and you don't move for what feels like an eternity, beautifully controlled.
Then, oh-so-gently, you rub the pad of your thumb over my lip. My breath catches in my throat, audible in the silence of the room. You feel my tendons tense and tighten your grip.
“Sssh, now. Be good”.
Your thumb slides into my mouth, and I remain entirely, wholly still. This is not what I had planned, this is not what I had wanted. And you know it.
I keep my tongue away from you, fighting the urge to jerk my head back. You wait, smiling that fucking smile. You run your thumb over the ridge of my teeth, down on the inside of my lip. You're just biding your time; toying with me.
I succumb and wrap my lips around you. I feel the satisfaction course through you. Your ring glints in the candlelight in the corner of my eye and I slide my tongue over you. Enthusiastic in defeat.
You withdraw slickly and push against my lips, sliding them into a distorted, ugly pout. You pinch my wet lower lip between thumb and forefinger, so hard it hurts, and push your chair back.
I sit, slumped. Disappointment hangs heavy about me, like rain-damp clothes.
You're behind me, yanking my head back by my hair. A gasp sears through me. You press the knuckle of your index finger bruisingly hard underneath my cheekbone. It holds me in place as your other hand leaves my hair and pushes my legs apart.
A small “no” dies in my throat as you hiss in my ear, your words hot and poisonous.
“What will I find if I put these inside you? Hmm?” You prod at the flesh of my inner thigh, pushing my underwear to the side. I don't bother to protest as you push your fingers into my cunt.
You dig your knuckle further into my face as you withdraw your fingers and wipe them across my mouth. Your fist clenches in my hair as your lips touch my ear.
“Filthy fucking whore”.
| 9 Aug 10, 10:22 PM Filth_Wizard UK(RM), 8 yrs  |
Excuse me for a moment... Chuck your boyfriend, have a sandwich. |
| 9 Aug 10, 10:31 PM MsPhersephonne UK(BN), 2 yrs |
You paint a scene for the reader as if they were participating. Your anticipation is felt too. Excellent. "I'm really sorry you have to die." ENTJ |
| 9 Aug 10, 10:36 PM Adorabelle UK(PR), 2 yrs |
Dammit now I wish I was seeing Daddy tonight... =( Well written! x "Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened." - Dr Seuss. |
| 10 Aug 10, 12:19 AM Drew_Heller UK(LS), 4 yrs  |
Yum, simply yum... |
| 10 Aug 10, 12:40 AM CherryPip 2 yrs £ |
I feel I can relate to this so much. So lovely, I love the way you write <3 |
| 10 Aug 10, 12:44 AM Will_and_Echo UK(SW), 5 yrs    |
You are terribly bad at being good... But I'm sure it also works vice versa. Exx "You'll find the shame is like the pain, you only feel it once." Edited 10 Aug 10, 12:45 AM by Will_and_Echo |
| 10 Aug 10, 12:45 AM Crystal_Eyes UK, 5 yrs  |
Beautiful. x ------------------------------------------ |
| 10 Aug 10, 3:18 AM PapaSmurf UK(CF), 22 mths |
Exquisite; the disappointment is palpable.
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| 10 Aug 10, 10:41 AM Felix_culpa UK, 2 yrs |
Outstanding. You can feel more of it with each read.
There are few good men. Thank your lucky stars that he's one of them. |
| 10 Aug 10, 8:01 PM Dollface UK, 6 yrs |
Thank you, all. I'm glad to see that it doesn't have to all be fist-related (fnaaar)  xx "When you're going through hell, keep going." |
