… solipsubmissive …

“You’ve been a very good girl, elise.”  He leaned down and tilted his head so that he could look into her eyes.

“Thank you,” she murmured.  She found his gaze with her own and tried to smile, but her lips only wobbled slightly at the corners.  A fresh wave of pain engulfed her and she gasped, then pressed her lips together.  Despite her brave attempt to hold them back, tears filled her eyes until their weight and gravity demanded they fall.  They slipped silently across the bridge of her nose to curve down her temple and soak the sheets of his bed.

He looked at her hands, palms down and fingers spread, on each side of her head.   He knelt beside the bed and laced his fingers through those of the hand nearest his.  He ached to smooth a hand through her tousled curls, but her hair had been carefully twisted up and pinned in place.  Had she reacted too strongly at any time, tossed her head, perhaps, she’d have dragged her dark dark tresses across her ruined back.  ”We’re almost finished,” he whispered.

She closed her eyes on the word “almost.”  Pain.  Not something she ever enjoyed, but something she willingly endured.  The rewards far exceeded the relative value of her suffering, though few would understand.  She felt him move, felt his humid breath wash over her face just before she felt the pointed tip of his tongue lightly trace the path left by her tears.

“Salty.”  He pulled away and found her eyes open again, open and staring at their interlocked fingers, hers small and light and fragile, tipped with delicate nails precisely filed into white half moons, his large and tan, stained with her blood.  He let go and watched as her hand fell to the sheets.  ”I’ll clean you up, petal.”

elise nodded almost imperceptibly, but her heart jumped, began pounding again in earnest as the fear rebuilt. Cleanup was far from soothing, as it involved pristine white clothes soaked in hot water.  Hot salted water.  She heard the sounds of him soaking the rag, then gentle splashing of the water as he rung it out, and she took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then let it out slowly, hoping to be at her most relaxed when he …

… she screamed.  Her hands tightened into fists and clutched the sheets while words poured from her mouth, incoherent begging words, angry words, words that ultimately meant nothing as he continued with his ministrations, his hands moving with firm purpose as he cleaned her wounds.  Wounds he’d inflicted.

When he was finished, when the blood had stopped oozing from the furrows between the twin rows of raised, inflamed skin, he pressed his lips against the pattern he’d created, slid his hands beneath her abdomen and raised her hips until she was on her knees.  She whimpered once, then grunted when he surged inside her and began fucking her, his rhythm easy and steady.  He found her clit with his fingers and stroked it in time to each thrust until she moaned and began fucking back at him, her ass meeting his hips with a gentle slapping sound.  ”More,” she panted, and he began thrusting deeper and harder.

Almost frantic now, elise clutched at his cock with the walls of her cunt, the orgasm building quickly, as it always did on such nights, for pleasure closely follows in the footsteps of pain, and she needed this release, ached for it.  She pushed herself up on her elbows, the wound on her upper back reminding her of its existence only briefly before she dismissed it from her mind.  ”Now, please,” she cried out, then convulsed around him without waiting.

With a guttural shout, he opened his palm, released the handful of salt he’d clutched, and slapped it down on the word he’d etched into her shoulder blade, his orgasm exploding with a force he felt unfurl from his furthest extremities.  He rode the wave of her pain-soaked screams until he was empty and she was filled, and then he collapsed on the bloody sheets and pulled her against him, their bodies still connected.  He felt the muscles of her cunt contract once more.

“i love you,” she whispered.

He smiled, but didn’t return the declaration.  She’d know in the morning, when she saw the words he’d placed on her body.