Page 56 of All Your Pain

I spank her again but this time on her pussy. She screams out a long cry that ends on a throaty moan. “Again?” I ask and she whimpers in response. Aiming for her clit this time, I bring my hand down again and her body jerks forward but I grab her throat tightly, keeping her held firmly in place.

She tries to say my name but I squeeze so tightly that she can’t even breathe let alone speak.

Her fingers claw at my leg and my arm as she tries to get away.

Another spank and her hips are lifting to meet my hand, her pussy aching for me to be inside her from the rate it’s dripping onto my leg. I want so badly to flip her onto the bed and bury myself in her, but not yet.

“You’re so close, baby, I know you can do this.”

As she struggles for breath her face turns from red to almost purple as her whole body tightens. All it takes is one more slap of her pussy for her to come undone as a flood of her come spills out onto my hand and down my leg.

Easing up my grasp on her neck she inhales a choked breath, her sudden intake of air making her come again as her back arches, her breasts pressing down onto my leg. Her sobs turn into violent body quaking cries. “I’ve got you, baby,” I say as I lift her up into my arms. “I’ve always got you.”

As she starts to calm, I wipe her tears away and softly ask, “will you finally admit it?”

She looks up at me with nothing but loathing in her eyes. If she had the energy I know she’d try to fight me but she can barely move. She can’t even manage to look at me for long and she closes her eyes as she turns her face away.

That increasingly familiar pressure in my chest gets worse and I start to feel like I’ve lost her. When she opens her eyes again I don’t see my Willow.

“Yes. Every sick twisted thing you do to me, I love it. No matter how much I try to resist it, my body always wants more. But I hate myself for it. I hate you for making me become this person.” Her voice is flat and numb.

I stare at her for a long time, a tightness in my throat stopping me from being able to tell her how wrong she is to hate herself. I push back whatever’s trying to crawl its way out of me.

She starts to sob again and even though she buries herself into my chest and clutches on to me like I’m all she has, she still says, “I hate you.”

“I know, baby.”

I can’t bring myself to fuck her like this, it doesn’t feel right. Instead, I lie her down and wipe away her tears until she stops crying and when her body’s completely spent she passes out with her hands pressed tight to my chest.

22

WILLOW

Idon’t know how long I stay locked away in the bedroom, it could be a week by now or just a few days.

Dean comes in to check on me regularly but I ignore him each time. I spend my days and nights in bed. Sometimes Dean’s there hovering nearby like he wants to touch me but he doesn’t. That hurts more than it should.

I told Dean I hate him but I don’t know if it was the truth or not. If it was, then surely I shouldn't feel such a deep ache when he’s not here.

The door’s never locked, like he showed me before, it doesn’t even have one. I could go to him if I wanted him that badly but instead I’m stuck here of my own choosing.

The days pass slowly and eventually I drag myself out of bed to have a shower. Half of me still feels numb but the other half I’m barely holding together. As soon as I let go of those pieces of me, I know I won’t be able to stop the emotions that pour out.

When I go back into the bedroom, with a towel wrapped around me, Dean’s sitting on the bed waiting for me.

“Hey, baby,” he says, his eyes brimming with concern. I sit down next to him leaving just a few inches between us. I’m too tired to push back against the pull my body has towards him. “You know I could have helped.” I look up at him expecting to see a smirk but he just gives me a small smile.

“It was just a shower,” I shrug.

“Is there anything else I can do?”

I let out a breath as I think of anything that could possibly make me feel good right now but nothing comes to mind. All I really want to do is waste away in bed until there’s nothing left of me but I'm sure Dean won’t let that happen.

Since he scared me he’s been delicate with me, like he thinks I’m going to shatter in his hands if he touches me. Maybe I will. I feel like I’m already broken.

“You should try to eat something,” Dean's voice says softly to me. I keep my eyes shut and try to block him out.

I’m not sure when I last ate but my stomach hurts and it’s making me nauseous. If I do something as normal as eating then it’s like I’m accepting this reality. If I just lie here, feeling nothing, then I can pretend none of this is real. Eventually, I'll drift off into nothing.

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