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Affectionate Cruelty


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It is in his hand. I can see his grip tight around the neck of it. I’m already breathing heavily. I’m already against the wall, although I’m not entirely sure how I got here. He walks over to me.

“I know exactly why you brought that bottle over,” I say.

“Do you?”

“Yes. You want to fuck me with it.” Again, if I shock him with my bluntness, perhaps he will see me as less vulnerable, stronger. I am not prey.

“You are clever my little bee. I’ve always liked how clever you are.”

A quick movement. My head slammed sideways against the wall. Held there. I’m awkward, I can’t move. My hands reach out but drop to my sides, my fingertips grazing the wall. I can’t talk. My knees weaken.

It hurts. I can’t reach for anything. Slowly sliding down. I know I can’t go down, being cornered is not good. Try and rise. Slip again. I’m getting hot. It hurts. Get off me. Get off me.

And I’m released suddenly. I’m on the floor. Legs cross-legged, like a schoolgirl. Red, from where my face has hit the wall. Hot. Panicky.

He kneels, tilts my face upward to look at him but my eyes are downwards, looking anywhere but.

“It’s ok. You don’t have to look at me. I just wanted you to know that I want you to make me happy today, that’s all. That’s all. Open your mouth.”

My lips are sealed. If I open them now it might surprise him. He will expect me to refuse.

I open it.

“Good girl.”

Immediately. It’s that feeling. I love him. I love him. Fuck. I want him.

He still has the wine bottle in his hand. With the other he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, runs his finger along the red mark the wall has left on my face. There will be a bruise tomorrow. I shut my mouth.

“Keep your mouth open”

I do. I do. And it pains me to do it but I do. I can feel his eyes on me as saliva starts to build in my mouth. I want to close my mouth.

“Look at you. So pretty.” He brings the rim of the bottle to my mouth. Slowly runs it over my lips, clashes it against my teeth. Edges it into my mouth slightly and teases it out again.

“I want you to hold the bottle in your mouth for me. I want you to to hold it, just with your mouth. I know you can do that.”

I close my mouth and swallow the saliva that has been pooling under my tongue.

He hits me. Hard.

Shouting. He is angry. He stands up. Steps back towards me, over me. “Are you fucking stupid? I said keep your fucking mouth open.”

A kick. I curl up. That one hurt. A lot.

“Ok” I raise my head.

My lips part.

“Put your tongue out”

He pushes the wine bottle into my mouth. Just a little at a time. The back of my head is against the wall. I can’t move away from it. Then more. I have to angle my head to keep it in my mouth. It’s making it hard to breathe. No he needs to stop now. He is moving it in and out. Fuck no.

I gag. Throw my head away. Escape. Escape. He drags me back by my hair, forces me back to the wall and yanks my head back.

“You hold it in your mouth. Or it goes inside you.”

He thinks he will win.

Fuck him if he thinks he will win.

Again, and again. He pushes it down my throat, slowly, in and out. Just ever, ever so slowly. He watches my eyes, the spit falling down from my mouth. I gag. Heave. My hands flail. Please. Please but I can’t get the words out. I can’t concentrate, it’s just breathing. Fuck.

I grasp at his trousers. Please.

Released.

“Now you can show me what you thought I would do with it”

I can’t breathe. I bend over, On all fours. My eyes are watering. He did it too hard. This is too much.

The bottle is placed in my hand. He closes my hand around it. Gently.

Fuck him. Fuck him fuck him. My breathing begins to steady again, slowly.

“I want to watch you. On the bed. I want to watch you”

Is he fucking mad. Does he really think I’m going to fuck myself with a bottle whilst he watches? After he has just done that? I’m a mess. My hair. My breathing. I can’t. My legs are trembling.

I can see him, stiff inside his trousers. I can see him, I can see him. He speaks calmly.

“I want to watch you. I want you to try. For me.”

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