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In desire, there is no happiness or joy. For me, it is only a reprieve from suffering for an instant, or a continuation of suffering in another form.
I pick up my prize and walk over to the bed. Her body is completely limp, and I lower it gently to the downy mattress.
She stretches out on her back, widening the smile she has worn since we arrived. I use my fingers to caress up and down her thin legs. I touch her chest, pulling down the front to reveal the tops of her breasts.
“You are mine now,” I say. “Do you understand this?” A lump forms in my throat. A slight irritation gives way to an intense desire for this woman.
She nods. “I am here to worship you. To live with you in paradise.” She stares straight into my eyes. With their golden hue, they almost penetrate my brain. I look away.
Can her devotion be real? Whoever she thinks I am, she is giving herself to me without question. Perhaps this is what I am missing. This is what I deserve. The thought that she desires me and my control makes me flush. She craves me as much as I do her.
“What is your name, girl?” I walk to the end of the bed.
“Arie,” she says meekly. “If it pleases you.”
I nod and meet her at the head of the bed.
I lean over her and press my lips gently against hers. The warmth flowing through my veins is remarkable.
There she is, submitting to my will. My pet, my plaything. How shall I start? I know she will do anything I ask of her, and this is almost too much to handle.
“Thank you,” she murmurs in a soft gasp before sliding from under me and standing near the bed. I sit up, watching her intently, unsure of what it is that she’s planning to do. Does she think she can run from me? That these touches will be all I desire? Then she kneels before me, bowing her head as though in prayer as she continues to explore me with her hands.
I did not give her this order, but I do not mind the sight.
She begins by running her hands up my chest, her calloused fingers rubbing across my nipples. Thrilled by the sensation, I lean into her touch, reveling the way her hands begin to glide lower, over my sternum, my ribs. She mumbles something softly before those brilliant, golden eyes find mine again.
“You chose me, you saved me. You’re beautiful,” she says again, the reverence in her tone heating my blood further.
“I do not know how to thank you,” the woman, Arie, murmurs. Her rough hands glide over my body, her eyes tracing their every movement as though she’s afraid I’ll disappear beneath her touch.
Her tentative strokes are not enough.
“You will thank me by obeying me,” I rumble, my hips twitching toward her hands. It has been a long time since I’ve decided to give in to these baser urges, but something about Arie’s pliability has drawn them out of me once again.
Arie nods her assent, an eager but small smile gracing her lips. It is strange, to share space with a human like this. They have only run from me or attacked me, in their own weak way. This one, however, sates many urges I did not realize I had until earlier this evening.
The behavior of humans makes more sense to me now.
Even within a few short moments of basking in Arie’s attention, in the adoration and veneration I deserve as a superior being, the thought of something happening to her violently twists something inside of me.
She ismine.
Mine to train.
Mine to enjoy.
Mine to destroy.
Her dark curly hair tickles across my thighs and stomach as she stands again, and I lift my chin, looking up at her. She reaches a tentative hand toward my lower set of eyes, but before she can make contact, I grip her wrist tightly, the bones in her fragile arm grinding together beneath my bruising grip.
Arie’s wide eyes blink at me in surprise before I drop her hand, and it falls limply to her side.
“You are mine,” I repeat to her, rising to my feet. She leans toward me as though sucked in by my gravity. The strange beauty in her fragility, the open yearning in her face for my attention, fuels the flames that have been climbing higher within me.
The feeling of her desire for me, her devotion to me, is like a drug.
I sink into the feeling, into her soul. I will claim it, and every last part of her, as mine.
