I am straddling his chest, he is writhing underneath me, his body in constant motion, seeking something more, reaching, searching, his movements limited by my weight on him, by the cuffs joining his hands above his head. He is not fighting me, but he can’t keep still, he makes small sounds into the room.
I reach down to position his head and I slap him, hard, across his cheek, the sting of it tight and harsh.
All of his movement stops in the aftermath of the strike. Suddenly he is still, like a switch has been flicked. He is shocked. The stillness surprises me. His wide eyes meet mine…
“You hit me…”
He states it like a fact, which it is, but he is shocked, as if I have never slapped him before, as if he is a nice vanilla boy upon whom I have inflicted some outrage, as if he can’t quite believe I did it.
I want to laugh, I am confused by his reaction, by his paralysis, his surprise.
“Yes, baby, I hit you…” I confirm it for him.
He nods slowly, his eyes cloudy, unfocussed. I wonder where he has disappeared to, but he is truly gone, his body slack, his mouth half open, he lies under me as if he cannot move, as if he is bound to the bed, as if I have rendered him helpless with the slap.
I no longer want to laugh, gazing down at him in wonder, that he slips under like that, just like that. I lean down to kiss him, he barely responds. I don’t stop until he is back with me, his body slowly rising from the depths of the place he has been, until he kisses me back.
There you are… there you are, beautiful… hello baby, welcome back…
Edited to add: His version of this here, though you will have to search the long post for “you hit me” to find it.