"what are you thinking?"
his arm is curled underneath me, holding me up, but my head is still against the covers, and my nose is pouring. i am always gushing when he is here.
and i tell him i was thinking i'd like him to hit me again.
he is surprised. and tells me so. says he'd never have known.
but this time he will not use the cane and this disappoints me. i hate the cane. i can hardly stand it. but when he gives me a little time like this, i can take it. i want to take it.
i am lying on my belly and he is laying into me. flat palm against my buttocks, up onto my coccyx, over my kidneys. it starts hard and gets harder. i sigh with each strike.
yes. harder. harder.
until i cannot take it anymore, and his hand has locked over the rope midway down my back, holding me firmly down. i am squirming and pulling one way and then the next. until i cannot bear it. but, yes, harder. i want you to hurt me.
i reach the limit. my tears flow freely. and my goddamned nose produces the most incredible amounts of mucous.
and as soon as he stops i wish he would continue.
i have cracked.
i am broken.
i am coming apart at the seams
and i don't know where it all came from
i sob
i bury my head into the mattress
and i do not feel high
i feel miserable
i feel like i have made a mistake
i am drowning in a million things i cannot put my thumb on
and i am confusing the hell out of him.
and though i am silent and unable for the life of me to tell him the things i am feeling here in my little black hole, i want to say: "if you do not love me, if you do not care, don't smile at me, don't hold me. hit me. fuck me. hurt me. i feel i am like nothing here."
i cannot submit to you anymore
i hate you
and i don't know why