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Before I could decipher the meaning of his words, I cried out with the sudden pain, the crack of the leather on my skin was deafening in the silent room. I tried to lift my head to see what it was, but before I could see anything I felt him wrap something around my neck…a leather… a belt.
This felt familiar in a way that I couldn’t remember, but also it was so different, so new. I was full of fear, arousal, excitement, and eagerness to please. I groaned as he pulled me back by the belt, tightening the material around my skin, causing it to bite my sensitive flesh.
“Shh, don’t make a sound. This is nothing compared to what I plan on doing to you,” he said, sucking and biting my shoulder.
“You want to be a good girl for me, right babe? You don’t want to disobey me, right? Because if you don’t please me you know I have to punish you, right?” he asked, pulling the belt tighter with each question. I shuddered because of his tone, afraid of displeasing him. I slowly nodded, wanting nothing but to please him.
When he pushed his cock inside me with punishing rhythm, pain brought me some wicked pleasure. His thrusts were rough and deep, he touched the places no one else could. He held on my hip like his life was depending on it, his fingertips bit my skin and his hand wrapped tightly around the belt.
He fucked me like he was trying to kill me yet he worshipped my skin like he was trying to touch my soul.
He saved me from that death cell.
He took care of me.
I owed him my every breath.
And he owned every inch of my body as he built my pleasure from the pain.
He owned my body, my soul, and my mind.
Doctor’s Office–January 27, 2016
“What did you feel till that moment? Till he got you out of that room?” Cynthia asked, her gaze was penetrating, studying every muscle of my face.
“A lot of things.”
“Try to name them for me, please,” she probed.
“At first, I remember I was angry and scared. Then I recall feeling guilty,” I started. My voice was slow, unsure, trying to remember a distant memory.
“Guilty? You said that before… why did you feel guilty?”
She stopped my train of thoughts with this question. This was what I tried to run away from, what I tried not to remember, what caused me to seek relief from drugs. I considered not answering, but I knew she wouldn’t have that. I sighed, letting my mind wander to the dark places where I was miserable, useless, in sorrow…till Mike.
“Because I invited all of this to my life. I was careless, so obsessed with a story I didn’t see the danger,” I answered. My words should have sounded painful, but it was far from it. It was cold, like I didn’t believe in my own words.
“Do you regret it?” she asked this time, arching her perfectly shaped eyebrow.
“No.”
“Okay…” she said, nodding her head as she took notes, “What else did you feel?”
“Alone, hungry, crazy…then I felt focused again, like I found my gravity. I felt affection and…love,” I felt a smile forced its way on my face as I thought about him… Mike.
Cynthia’s hands were clasped in front of her, looking at me carefully. She studied me for awhile before asking, “Did you ever think about Dawn?”
Her question caught me off guard. I didn’t know how to answer as the guilt washed over me.
“At first… yes, but then…no.”
“Have you ever heard about brainwashing, Angel?”
“Yes. Why do y
ou ask that?”
She ignored my question and asked, “Have you ever thought he brainwashed you?”
