I am already crashing up against him on the way home, seeking impact. He sees the aggression before we get inside, he probably saw it building hours before, and fed it quietly all night long… slipping scraps under the table into the hungry maw when I wasn’t looking. We are still giggling and being silly as I push him police-style into the apartment.
“Only cuts and bruises, no permanent damage please!” he declares. He makes me laugh.
I am bristling with pent up energy that spikes as he closes the door, he softens under it… it looks like he is still moving around being normal, hanging coats, getting a drink, chatting, but it is clear as day to me. He is suddenly underwater, every movement slows, he makes himself open, accessible, it is imperceptible, subtle, it screams at me like a siren, he may as well rip open his chest and bleed all over the floor for the effect it has on me… God, I love how he can do this. I don’t know how he does it, but he does it and it makes my blood boil. Every act now becomes a superficial irrelevance, he is just waiting in this void, making sure he is within reach of me, being available, signalling vulnerability, waiting.
I don’t even know how it happens, details get lost when I am like this.
He is suddenly face down on the bed (clothes, where are his clothes?)… I am on him. His wrists quickly attached to the bed, I straddle and claw at him, I am seeking purchase, I am trying to get inside him through his skin, I am having trouble breathing, gasping desperately for air, looking around to find something to get inside him.
I undo my belt quickly, slide it through the loops of my jeans, stand back and swing it through the air at him. It strikes him with a satisfyingly solid feel and sound, a sharp and heavy *crack*. I hit him again, and again, his back, his arse. He tries to stay still, but manoeuvres himself so he can wrap a protective arm around the back of his neck. I see him protect himself, know that I am not familiar with the length of the belt, and should feel bad, but I don’t. The belt flies over and down again and again, each time the sound and force resonates up my arm and into me, his skin reddening. He feels like he is cowering from me, I know he is afraid.
I land on his back with a thump and lean down to him, he peeks up at me and it would normally break my heart, that look. He is hopeful, he seeks reassurance and his mouth opens as he reaches for the kiss that he knows is coming.
I hiss at him, cold and cruel, “You think you get to kiss me, bitch?!”
I see him recoil from the words, he doesn’t know what the right answer is. His brain stutters.
I slap him, it is awkward in that position, he winces, his eyes screwed shut, the face of a boy betrayed, I slap him again, and again, harder, he knows better than to turn away, but I know he is struggling to remain open to me.
“I asked, do you think you get to kiss me, bitch?!”
“I… I had hoped… maybe… I had hoped so… Ma’am…”
I shake my head, and I slap him over and again, trying to get some force behind it. I am reeling, I can’t breathe, the room is a vacuum and I am struggling to get air, gasping loudly into the silence, sucking at the emptiness.
He sees that I am scaring myself, hears something close to the edge, it brings him back, he whispers comfort and permission, both. “It’s ok, it’s ok, sweetheart…”
It nearly undoes me, that incredible sweetness, I feel myself melting from the inside, then I shake it off and the tenderness between us is gone.
I stand up and turn the belt around, the buckle end hits him, the feel and sound dull and unsatisfying, so I try it again, and again. Blood beads in spots where it cuts him on his arse, his back. I wipe some onto my finger and taste him, it is strangely calming, I get some more and bring my fingers to his mouth. He licks at them, and I push them into his mouth. He is expecting to taste my pussy, but he gets the iron taste of blood instead, I don’t know if he is surprised, I don’t care.
I finally step away and look at him, my breathing harsh and rasping, his back rising and falling as if we are keeping time together, his flesh is a bright red bloom, blood leaves dark evidence of violence across his skin. I am not nearly done with him yet.
Edited to add: I did an audio reading of this post: Crash: Audio reading.