It started out just like any day. There was nothing to suggest that it would end so spectacularly.
Work was manageable. The only thing that stood out was I was sitting at a computer in the library during out weekly staff meeting and idly playing a mindless game and our principal caught me and asked me if I had any opinions about what was being discussed, clearly hoping to catch me not paying attention and wanting to embarrass me in front of everyone. I did not look up from the game. I just said clearly, “We aren’t discussing anything at the moment. Kaya and Dennis had just finished talking about the assembly. I don’t have an opinion about that. Then Dennis asked you if you had any items for the agenda.” Did not miss a beat on the game. Did not look up from the computer screen. Gotta love having what is the auditory equivalent of a photographic memory. Did not add that by morning I would most likely not remember because I did not care.
Home was quiet… A walk in the cool night air… Left overs for dinner… NCI reruns and then the Daily Show… eyes starting to droop by the Colbert Report… When I reached for my blanket and Master gave me a sharp look and said, “OH, HUH UH!” and sharply pointed me toward my required bedtime routine. So off I trundled to get my vitamins and brush my teeth. All normal, all expected, the same things that happen nearly every night.
I stood looking at the mirror with my electric toothbrush buzzing away in my mouth. He saunters in and stands behind me and his sharp brown eyes meet my sleepy blue ones. I idly comment around the tooth brush about my out of control mop of curly blond ringlets… “bzzz ver’ bzz ‘qirrely hair t’day bzzz spit bzzzz”. He smiles possessively and gathers it up into his fist, carefully pulling every lock into an improvised pony tail and as I still focus on brushing each tooth exactly to his strict requirements he begins to tip me backwards… and then leans down and bites me on the corner of my neck. A deep body encompassing rush of heat, tingles, pain and something more, something primal makes me groan.
Over and over he bites me, neck shoulders, back… more than once I lose my balance and he has to catch me, using my hair to lift me back to my feet. And strangely, I do not stop brushing my teeth. When I finally spit and put away my toothbrush, (only once knocking everything off the shelf it goes on with fumbly hands). I comment how bizarre that was, being gnawed upon while brushing my teeth.
But he did not released his grip upon my hair and he used it as a leash to push and steer me down to bed. He did not let me go as I undressed and I do remember carefully slipping my fingers over his… reaching up under my top and holding the hair so he could release me and I could pull off my shirt and then returning my hair to his control.
He pushed me face down onto the bed and I could feel him reach to the jumbled up pile of implements kept within reach of where I sleep. The strap cracked down on my ass and I couldn’t help but buck against his grip. But he just shoved my face down harder against the bed and once again leaned down and began to slowly deliberately bite me. After that things got blurry… biting… spanking… biting and spanking at the same time… him straddling my back holding me down with his hand still fisted in my hair.. his teeth in my shoulder, the strap being used like he is spurring on a galloping horse… then the strap being dropped, my head lifted up and a nipple captured, cruelly pinched and yanked in the opposite direction of my hair… it was too much to bear…
I remember panicking and wildly struggling and being pushed down again, his weight on my back to hold me down, my arms and legs paddling, flailing…
His voice was low and loud in my ear… “Ready to play with your toys?”
“Toys… osys… oys…”
I blink and debate… he wants me to masturbate now…. Now… now… I am wildly over stimulated… awash with sensation… drowning… and yet I am not aroused… not sexually… I am already limp and panting as if I had had a dozen orgasms… but I knew it is not really a request, it was required. I made an inarticulate gurgling sound and nod. Only then does he let go of my hair and I attempted to crawl under the blankets. I was sweaty, damp and now the first shivers of chill were starting to make me shake.
He snatched the blankets out of my hands and I realized he was not going to leave me alone. He was not finished. As I fumble with cords and angles and switch settings he leaned down and sank his teeth into one nipple and pinched and pulled the other. Over and over as I tensed and trembled and shook, he ran his hands over me, pinched… grabbed… pulled… and bit. My arms, my breasts, my belly and legs… anywhere, everywhere… the sensations rising up from my body doing battle with the orgasm, it is like the sea surging and retreating. Every time it rose high, every time as I arched and shuddered with my pending explosion, a lance of pain forced it back. But it was sandbags against the raging river, eventually nothing can keep it from crashing over. And I screamed as I come.
And only then did he pull up the blankets.
I remember looking at him from the corners of my eye in the morning, not sure exactly how I felt about such a strenuous and intense bedtime intervention. I was more than a little lost in the shock and awe.
In many ways I know that he is reacting to my words of the weekend before, talking about needing less predictability, more control… and one wonders if this is not another “be careful what you wish for” moment.
I know the next evening as I started my bedtime routine and he followed me into the bathroom I felt a rush of panic… panic and excitement. And when he grabbed my hair and once again propelled me down the stairs I was wondering if I could handle another night like the last. But he just used the convenient handle of curly blond hair to throw me down on the bed and brusquely said, “You are not getting anything more than this tonight.” And he stood and watched as I stripped and slipped between the covers.
And as I closed my eyes and drifted down I felt the bed quiver, either an imagined earthquake or an echo of a dream… and I sat straight up and yelped in fear… not the fear of monsters of the night but the fear that he was there, creeping up on me.