I feel him hard beneath me, but it doesn’t surprise or shock me. He’s aroused from punishing me. This is what masters do. They crave inflicting pain, and will demand pleasure next. The slaps ring through the room, his voice harsh and corrective. Anyone on either side of us will hear my punishment.
“I will not tolerate disobedience from you. You will learn your place as my slave, or the next punishment will be worse than this.”
Too soon, he stops, his hand resting on my heated skin.
I want more. Longer. Harder. This isn’t the deep cavern of pain that ultimately comforts.
“You will do what I say, slave,” he says, so loudly this time that it startles me.
“Yes, sir!” I say back, my words carrying through the small room. And that pleases him.
“Good girl,” he says lower now, approvingly. “That’s exactly what I want to hear from you.”
Something strange begins to happen. My throat is tight, my nose tingles, and my eyes burn. I’m losing control and I don’t know why or how, but as he runs his hand along my naked skin, murmuring soft words of approval, his voice catches.
“I…” I know him. He isn’t a monster. He hasn’t bought me to abuse me.
I’m filled with an unquenchable thirst to please him, to be the good girl he approves of.
But this isn’t part of the script. This isn’t how it should go.
I want to kneel at his feet and worship him. Grovel in my nakedness until I earn a crumb of approval. Debase myself until only he remains.
Why?
“Will you obey me?” he rasps out, but his harsh tone belies his tender touch. He’s holding himself back.
From what?
“Yes, sir. I will do whatever you tell me, sir. Thank you for punishing me.” The words tumble from my mouth like water over a cliff, uncontrolled and powerful. Once more clouds part, and this time, I see a face.
Nicolai.
I knew Nicolai once. Does this man know him?
My master stills, his voice at once harsh and commanding. He drops his body close to mine, his mouth at my ear vibrating with anger. “Do not ever say that name out loud again.”
Did I say the name out loud?
“Yes, sir.”
And then I’m up in his arms and he’s pulling to me, and this is so familiar tears fill my eyes. The rollercoaster I’m on is plummeting downward again, and my heart can’t keep up with this. He tucks me close to him. I burrow right in, and when my cheek hits his chest, the clouds part once more, but this time, the light prevails.
“Marissa,” he whispers. “I am your master, and everyone we see must know that.”
But he isn’t my master. He lies.
He is my Nicolai, and he’s come to save me.
He’s cloaked me in lies to protect me.
I’m so overcome with emotion, I can’t speak or think. I can only cry and now that I do, I know that the weird mix of emotions I felt were the prelude to just this. Tears I haven’t shed that I needed to.
“Yes, master,” I whisper, giving him what he needs. But he flinches.
“I’ll have to accept that,” he says. His voice hardens. “I’ll have to demand that.”
I keep my voice so low, no one could possibly hear us.
“Are you…” my voice trails off.
“Yes.”
“You don’t…” I falter. “I hate that I didn’t know you.” My voice cracks as fresh tears fall, fresh from an unfathomable depth.
He brings his mouth so close to my ear, his heated breath vibrates over the shell of my ear. “It isn’t your fault,” he says. “You’ve been traumatized. It impacts memory, recall…” his voice trails off.
I cry harder against his chest.
You’ve been traumatized.
I’ve been brought to the very cusp of what human beings can endure. Broken and beaten, conditioned and debased. The weight of it all is so heavy, I fear I’ll shatter beneath it.
“I don’t like that I forgot. That I didn’t know,” I whisper brokenly, so low I wonder at first if he hears me, but his next words reassure me.
“I’ll help you remember.”
And then his fingers are tangled in my hair, my hand is on his face, and his mouth is on mine. I sigh into the salty, messy kiss, swallowing a deep moan that resonates low in his chest.
It’s Nicolai.
And I’m his.
Worlds collide in that kiss, separation no longer possible. We fuse together, welded by pain and longing, this moment of blissful union untainted by the horror that brought us to this place. What happened then and what happens next no longer matters. All that does is this very moment where nothing can break us apart.
He kisses me and I kiss him back, losing myself to him and finding myself in the process.
Who was I?
Nicolai’s.
I’m crying and I swear he is nearly breaking down himself, though he doesn’t cry, the groans he releases are fragmented, hoarse. Being apart has nearly killed me, and though I hate that he’s been in pain, the certain knowledge that he’s longed for this like I have assures me that somehow, some way, everything will be okay.