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| little_belle |
Ask and you shall receive.
Knelt on the floor, my arms kept behind my back by handcuffs, the edges of which dig into my skin and bruise my wrists - one hand around my throat, the other hitting me repeatedly. The kindness I always notice in his eyes, gone. And later - force, humilation, desperation.
And afterwards, flopped out on the carpet, stoopid grin on my face. Enthusing about the feel of violence, the pain, fear, how scary he looked.
"I feel great..
..
We're pretty fucked up, right?"
"Oh yes.."
