desire? Not just simple want, but the twisting grabbing feeling, so close to anger? God. I jumped up and slapped the cup off the table, feeling it rather than watching it fly across the room and smash into the wall with a pleasing sonic boom. I looked at the mess on the floor and felt nothing, no remorse, no sense of attachment. In fact, what I really wanted to do was go walk barefoot on the pieces, just to feel something else, but I didn’t. I just held my head in my hands. No. I needed to hold it together. I went to the cabinet and took down a shot glass and filled it up with the single malt. Medicinal, I reflected, as the fluid burned its way through me. Good job on the giving up drinking front.
I cleaned up the mug. Didn’t like that one anyway. I’d have to break something I liked. Maybe that would work.
10pm. In bath. Surrounded by warmth and nice smells, my body felt somewhat appeased. I would not touch myself though. I couldn’t even think about it. I was on lockdown. The music tearing through the iPod was clearing a hole in my mind. That helped keep my mind off his eyes, those hands, lifting me up like I was nothing. Leverage, sheer will, size and power. I sank under the bubbles. Shit, the headphones. I plucked them out of my ears and went back under. All I could hear was my blood pulsing, steady, and overheated, my heart beating like a machine. I could practically feel it throbbing in my chest. Hot, physical, large. No. I burst up, gasping for air. I watched my chest rise and fall. Watching. That’s all I could do. Participate in this pain. When my breathing returned to normal, I got out, and dried myself off violently, hoping to get blood moving. I tried smoothing the new scented cream I had bought over my skin. That was helping too. I rubbed some over the most sensitive areas between my legs, it felt nice, I could just carry on, and make some of the tension go away. But I stopped. It wasn’t that hard. I didn’t want the dream, I wanted his hand, actual, nail bitten, long fingered, in me. I didn’t want substitutes. My whole life had been about the substitute, the stand in, the fantasy covering up the sub-standard reality. Faith, fuck it, I was going to have faith until I couldn’t anymore. I pushed all the hands crowding my mind out of the way and stomped off to my room.
12am. In bed. Trying to sleep. Making sure phone was on. Oh foolish, foolish girl. You should have stripped off his clothes when you had the chance, got to see that expanse of creamy flesh from stomach to hip and all that hidden strength, touched him, held him. You blew it. Rubbing together like in high school. Oh god it was so good. Help. I punched the pillow and turned over.
1:15. Was that a beep? Yeah, I was hallucinating now. Next I’d be seeing him, body and flesh, standing next to the bed. No, there it was—the flashing red light. Ok. Breathe. I could do this. I reached over and grabbed the phone. Yes a text. Yes from him. Yes! My body surged. I could climb walls, float above my bed. I was superhuman now. Anything possible. Calm. Read.
Did you sleep? Caught in rehearsals. Disappointed? I am. Work first, then games. Until Saturday. Beautiful when you come for me.
Holy fucking… Did he just fire these things off?
So cool, yet so hot. So fucking hot. Life finally felt magical. And my body relaxed instantly against the sheets. You’d get what you wanted. Needed. I was addicted. Cocky fucker, assuming I’d be free. But he was right.
• • •
I woke up the next morning early, with my dreams escaping and leaving only strange incomplete memories. I was calmer. That was something. Tonight was the party, and Alice had arranged everything and the dress. It’d be fun to go and meet some of Alice’s friends. So you can scope out who she’s most likely to tell, I thought.
More coffee. And working on the article. That would clear my mind. Then the gym. A normal day. Doing work. I ran a check on my body. Calm. Relaxed. I
I cleaned up the mug. Didn’t like that one anyway. I’d have to break something I liked. Maybe that would work.
10pm. In bath. Surrounded by warmth and nice smells, my body felt somewhat appeased. I would not touch myself though. I couldn’t even think about it. I was on lockdown. The music tearing through the iPod was clearing a hole in my mind. That helped keep my mind off his eyes, those hands, lifting me up like I was nothing. Leverage, sheer will, size and power. I sank under the bubbles. Shit, the headphones. I plucked them out of my ears and went back under. All I could hear was my blood pulsing, steady, and overheated, my heart beating like a machine. I could practically feel it throbbing in my chest. Hot, physical, large. No. I burst up, gasping for air. I watched my chest rise and fall. Watching. That’s all I could do. Participate in this pain. When my breathing returned to normal, I got out, and dried myself off violently, hoping to get blood moving. I tried smoothing the new scented cream I had bought over my skin. That was helping too. I rubbed some over the most sensitive areas between my legs, it felt nice, I could just carry on, and make some of the tension go away. But I stopped. It wasn’t that hard. I didn’t want the dream, I wanted his hand, actual, nail bitten, long fingered, in me. I didn’t want substitutes. My whole life had been about the substitute, the stand in, the fantasy covering up the sub-standard reality. Faith, fuck it, I was going to have faith until I couldn’t anymore. I pushed all the hands crowding my mind out of the way and stomped off to my room.
12am. In bed. Trying to sleep. Making sure phone was on. Oh foolish, foolish girl. You should have stripped off his clothes when you had the chance, got to see that expanse of creamy flesh from stomach to hip and all that hidden strength, touched him, held him. You blew it. Rubbing together like in high school. Oh god it was so good. Help. I punched the pillow and turned over.
1:15. Was that a beep? Yeah, I was hallucinating now. Next I’d be seeing him, body and flesh, standing next to the bed. No, there it was—the flashing red light. Ok. Breathe. I could do this. I reached over and grabbed the phone. Yes a text. Yes from him. Yes! My body surged. I could climb walls, float above my bed. I was superhuman now. Anything possible. Calm. Read.
Did you sleep? Caught in rehearsals. Disappointed? I am. Work first, then games. Until Saturday. Beautiful when you come for me.
Holy fucking… Did he just fire these things off?
So cool, yet so hot. So fucking hot. Life finally felt magical. And my body relaxed instantly against the sheets. You’d get what you wanted. Needed. I was addicted. Cocky fucker, assuming I’d be free. But he was right.
• • •
I woke up the next morning early, with my dreams escaping and leaving only strange incomplete memories. I was calmer. That was something. Tonight was the party, and Alice had arranged everything and the dress. It’d be fun to go and meet some of Alice’s friends. So you can scope out who she’s most likely to tell, I thought.
More coffee. And working on the article. That would clear my mind. Then the gym. A normal day. Doing work. I ran a check on my body. Calm. Relaxed. I
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