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| Dollface |
“It's quite sweet really, you thinking that you have any control”.
Your voice drips with self-satisfaction and I feel myself bristle. I run my tongue over my teeth and pucker my lips, exhaling slowly. I take a sip of my drink and raise a quizzical eyebrow.
“You mean I don't?”
Your laugh is more of an exclamation. “Of course not!” I'm mindful of the fact that we're in public and so I can vocalise my annoyance without fear of retribution. You're teasing me, goading me. I'm frustrated at how easily you succeed, and how quickly and silently you're proving your point.
“I don't have to be here,” I sniff, “I could have stayed at home”.
“And what, darling? Hmm? Curl up on the sofa, gorge yourself on shitty television, a quick wank before bed?” My expression is stony, but clearly my eyes are betraying me. The pause hangs in the air; a heavy, cloying perfume. “I thought so”.
Fuck you. I didn't come here for this, and the anger is building in me. I shift in my seat and loop my hand through the handles of my bag. “I want to go home”.
The Cheshire cat smile hasn't left your face. “Fine”.
--------------------
The car journey home was silent. Me, quietly regretting my insolence. You, self-satisfaction and steely, sedate control. I rattle the keys at the front door, clumsy. My fingers are trembling; I think it's with the cold.
I switch the light on in the hallway, grateful for its yellow warmth. I shrug off my coat and hang it up, letting my bag slip down my arm. I'm ready to go upstairs when I feel your hand on my shoulder.
You turn me towards you. No sudden movement, but your grip is firm. Your palm cups my shoulder and your fingers push into the flesh.
“Darling girl. Do you still want control?”
I don't like where this is going. Your tone is measured, calm, but your eyes are black. I try to take a small step back but there's no getting away from you.
“I…I don't want to, I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said earlier, I was just…”
My voice tails off. I don't quite know what I was trying to achieve earlier. Surly bitch.
“Come on, now. I'm giving you the chance. And I don't want to tell you twice. So. What do you want?”
My mouth opens and closes soundlessly. You're just waiting to trip me up, and I'm teetering dangerously close. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth.
You brush my cheek with the back of your hand, your knuckles grazing my jaw. I flinch, and the repressed laugh flickers in your eyes.
“Well?”
My breathing, slightly ragged, is audible in the silence. A beat.
“Well?”
The word, longer and barbed. Still, I remain silent. I swear you can hear my pulse, see the delicate skin at my throat skip as my heart hammers against the bony confine of my ribs.
You sigh. “If you're not going to answer me, I'm going to split your fucking lips. Well?”
“I…I want you to hit me.”
It just spills out, clumsy and ill-considered.
You raise an eyebrow. “Well now, sweetheart”.
You extend your arm, fist clenched. Your press it gently against my stomach, the material of my dress rasping underneath your knuckles. I close my eyes, and feel you withdraw.
Your punch wrenches a grunt from me, and my mouth forms a shocked 'o' of pain. I fold in the middle, winded, and you push me back up. Your fist is tucked underneath my chin. I splutter for breath, coughing.
“Open your eyes”.
I know better than to disobey you. You're still smiling that fucking smile. “Now. Again. Ask me to hit you”.
I obviously pause for too long because your press your knuckles, hard, underneath my jaw. It's too hard, bone on bone.
“Please hit me”.
My stomach, again, one-two. I feel like you're trying to reach my spine. I stumble forward and your palm presses against the bony part of my chest, pushing me back against the wall. It's not out of any concern. You just want a clear target, that's all.
You grip my chin and move my head from side to side, inspecting me. I can feel the familiar prick of hot tears at my eyes. You lean forward, and your breath is hot against my ear. “Again”.
“Pl…please hit me”.
Your fingers tighten on my jaw as you line your fist up with my cheekbone. No, not there, not there!
The thud rattles through my teeth as my vision split-second disappears. The thump makes me feel sick. I go to fall to my knees, clutching my face. You reach under my arms and hoist me back up.
“Again, darling. Again”.
I sob openly, wiping away the tears with the back of my hands. You bat them away, hitting my hands down to my sides. I feel utterly beaten, wandering stupidly into this.
“Hit m-“
The other side of my face, all knuckles and the full weight of your arm. Your ring catches my lower lip and snags the skin, revealing the red plush underneath. This time, I fall. I try and push myself back up as your shoe flattens my hand against the floor, and I cry out.
“Manners, beautiful!”
Your fingers bite into my arm as you reach down and pull me to my feet. My heels clatter as I try and keep up with you. I can feel tiny fibres stuck to my bloody lip. You turn me around to face the wall, pressing yourself into me. I can feel the heat of you through your trousers, pressing insistently into the small of my back.
Your fingers twist into my hair and push my face an inch away from the wall. I drag in a gasp that is so sudden, so harsh, that it hurts my throat. You laugh, slick and insidious.
“Again”.
Defeated, no fight left. “Please hit me”.
You press my face against the cool wall, just hard enough to stop me breathing, and your fist connects with my ribs. I want to cry out, but my lips are sticky, congealed, and smeared across the wall. I bend, and this time you let me fall.
You nudge me with your shoe, nestled in my stomach.
“Again”.
| 6 Nov 10, 8:08 AM Dark_Cherry UK(B), 2 yrs     |
Fantastic as always, but why is it always a boy that gets to do the punchy fun bit? I want a go  Sometimes the stillness of the night is the best music of all... | |
| 6 Nov 10, 8:26 AM River_Deep UK, 6 yrs |
It is not what you say or do but the way you say or do it | |
| 6 Nov 10, 11:37 AM misunderstoodslave UK(OL), 2 yrs |
It takes all sorts, but I would only ever want to be on the receiving end. Can't see the fun in hurting someone, myself. Good job others can, though, obviously. Thanks for posting this, my yummy fantasy for today. Specially the lower lip split by ring bit. mmm.
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