by Lucy Rinaldi
“Elijah, what the hell? Why would you say that to me? I was raped, I didn’t cheat on you if that’s what you think. I would never do that, you’ve seen the bruises, do they look like something you get from a simple fuck?” I can’t hide my annoyance. His eyes haven’t left mine as he leans forward and drops me on the seat next to him, my back against the armrest once more, and my stomachs doing back flips, my minds racing with what he’s just said to me. He leans into me, one arm on the back of the couch the other next to my head on the armrest.
“I know, Mercedes. I know what a little whore you are” He’s smirking at me. God, he’s always so damn rude to me!
“What? I am not a whore, Elijah,” I don’t like where this is going. But then I knew deep down that this is what would happen. I just hope I don't wake up in hospital in the weeks to come, like I have twice before. God, I hope I wake up!
“You were a whore when I found you and you’ll be a whore till the day you die. I know you, Sadie, you like it rough. Maybe he got a little too rough with you and you realized you couldn’t hide the bruises, and so you fabricated this whole rape thing so I wouldn’t find out you cheated” I’m lost for words, I am well and truly lost. I just stare at him dumbfounded. “The state you were in, how do you think it made me feel? I felt like my heart had been ripped out, then...” He turns his head to the side and closes his eyes for a second. He breathes a sigh, then looks back at me, his expression more menacing, making me feel uncomfortable, my stomach burning with anxiety.
“Then?” I ask so quietly I’m not sure he’s heard me.
“And then, my darling beautiful girl, I got to thinking, you don’t have any friends, not male ones anyway” Yeah because you made them all hate me. The voice in my head shouts. “The only place you go is to work or out with my sister, who isn’t around. So, who was it? An old friend? Someone you just met? Or were you a bad girl, did you find yourself a new Dom; did he punish you the way you like?” What the actual fucking fuck?! He has to be joking, how the hell could I have found myself a new Dom if I don’t go anywhere? Not that I would, Elijah is too much for even me, why the hell would I feel the need to find another one like him? I swallow hard past the lump in my throat that’s threatening to choke me. He twirls a piece of my hair between his fingers.
“Elijah please, I didn’t meet up with anyone, no old friend, nothing. It was just someone, I can’t tell you who, but believe me he took it, I didn’t want him to, I begged him not to,” I take his face in my hands trying to make him see I’m not lying to him, god how could he believe I’d do that? “Believe me” I whisper.
“Lying whore” He says it so quietly and full of venom. I screw my eyes shut tightly as the tears defy me once more and escape my eyes. “Crying won’t help you now. You know what happens when you lie to me, don’t you?” His voice harsh, his accent thick and it cuts through me. I nod, because I do know what comes next and I’m so scared. There’s absolutely no point in me trying to fight to make him believe me when he never will, not until he’s got his anger out, until he’s taken it out on my body.
“Elijah, please don’t do this, please” I beg pointlessly. The sobs choke me. Jesus, I’ve been through something so awful and all I want is for my man to make it all better and kiss the pain away, and here he is in front of me anger seeping from him, hating me, thinking I’ve done that with God knows who? If I told him the truth, he’d never believe me, he’d be mega angry and he would kill me, so I’m stuck either way. He's supposed to love me how could he doubt me? He stands slowly, hands in his pockets looking down on me.
“Get up” He says all too quietly while throwing his iPod on the couch. Oh fuck, I don’t think I can stand my legs are like Jell-O! But I do as he says, I stand there shaking from head to toe, my body not listening to my pleas to be still. “Look at me!” This time his voice is so loud and authoritative, my head automatically darts up to meet his gaze. He looks at me expressionless for a few moments, then slowly he walks toward me, my hearts in my mouth, my mouth’s dry, I can’t swallow, shit am I even breathing? I let go of the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. He takes my face in his hands and smirks, his dark brown eyes sparkling with what? I don’t know something evil, no doubt. He kisses my lips and whispers against them. “I’m going to make an example of you, and you WILL! Learn never to lie to me. Was he good, Sadie? Was it rough enough? I’ll show you rough” Oh my god, I can’t swallow I can’t even breathe. He lets go of my face and I feel it. Holy fuck! The back of his hand meets my jaw, knocking me sideways onto the cold hard wooden floor. I struggle to sit up, shit it hurts. He leans over me breathing hard and fast. I look anywhere but at him. He bends down and grabs my hair in his hands dragging me to my feet, not letting go, my hands are on his trying to ease his grip but it only gets tighter.
“Elijah! Please don’t...”
He grabs my face with his other hand. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Bitch. You. Did. This” My ears tingle where he whispers between breaths. “If you scream it will be ten times worse, do you understand?” I don’t want to antagonize him I just want it over with. With one of my hands on his left hand in my hair and the other on his right, squeezing my face trying and failing to make him stop, I nod slowly. “Good girl” He kisses my hair, then drags me from the room down the long hallway. We turn the small corner at the end of the hall, finding the door that stands there, he pushes me against the wall to the side of it, his right hand finds my throat, holding on to me tightly, his left hand unlocks the larger than usual oak door and I feel like I’m losing consciousness, his grip is too tight around my throat. He opens the door and mercilessly throws me over the threshold. I fall to the floor, landing on my arm again, but I instantly forget the pain when I realize his intentions. We’re in his torture room as I call it, it used to be the basement room, but it was soon made into something more... It’s a cold room with the windows blacked out, a metal morgue like bed lies directly in the middle of the room, he likes to play surgeon! To the left corner, there’s a desk with a lamp set at the edge, and a laptop open, but not turned on, a camcorder set up ready to use just in front of it. He always records the things he does to me, he likes watching them back to see if what he did was good enough to satisfy him. The overly large chair that sits behind it looks like a Gothic throne fit for a vampire, black cast iron with what looks like tortured victims encased in the arm rests, the seat a velvet deep purple, the back rest solid iron twirled into the shape of a heart and all black. The walls are bare except for a ceiling to floor length deep purple silk sheet, imprinted with a wolf howling at the moon hanging on the wall in front of me. The opposite side of the room holds a large chest padlocked with an old fashioned type lock. The chest looks like it belonged to a king, a king of old age England or France; he walks through the door and locks it behind him. I’m trying to pull myself up from the ground, but I don’t have the strength. I look up at him he’s no longer wearing his shirt or sneakers, just his sweats, his muscle clad chest and stomach glisten with sweat. I close my eyes and try to remember that he loves me, he does deep down he loves me, he’s just angry he thinks I’ve lied to him and this will be over soon. He grabs me by my right elbow pulling me up onto my feet. “Strip” He looks at me with dark eyes, god I don’t know who he is when he’s like this, but this isn’t my Elijah, the man standing in front of me is a stranger some kind of Irish monster, and he wants me to strip?
Shit!
I’m so self-conscious right now of how I look and the state of my body. I just want the ground to open up and swallow me whole. His eyes are on me, I’m scared but I do as I’m told as quickly as I can. I remove my night shirt and drop it at my feet, and I’m standing there naked in front of him, my arms desperately trying to hide my body. He walks over to the chest opens it and takes a long stick like object. He drops the lid and it makes me jump, he turns to me and smiles a, I’m-going-to-really-enjoy-beating-fuck-out-of-you-with-this kind of smile. “Are you scared, Mercedes?” He says as his hand caresses my face.<
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“Yes,” I have to force the word out of my dry mouth. I blink at him “Please Elijah...” He raises his hand to silence me, I immediately stop talking. His eyes never leave mine as he walks to the morgue type bed.
“You’re right to be scared. Come here” He motions me toward the bed. I do as I’m told and stand beside the bed width ways, almost in the middle as he walks beside me “Turn” I turn to face him the voice in my head screaming, “Why are you doing this? You’re supposed to love me not beat fuck out of me for something I had no control over!”
“Elijah, I tried to fight, I really did, but...” He holds his hand in the air again cutting me off before I'm even finished.
“Hold your hands out in front of you, palms together” I blink, trying to push back the tears that threaten to fall from my eyes once again. I want to reach out, to touch his face, to make him somehow understand, but I resist the urge. He produces a rope from his pocket, it looks thick and strong like the rope you tie a boat to the marina with. Not something you tie a person up with for sexual games with. Harshly he wrapped it round my wrists tying it so tightly it burns my skin, making me wince from the pain. He looks away from me only to reach for what looks like a meat hook that hangs from the ceiling on an overly thick chain; it looks to me like it belongs on one of those cranes they use to lift cars. My hearts in my mouth as it pounds so loudly I think it will deafen me. “I’m going to hook this through the rope, then turn that handle over there” He points at a long handle sticking out of the wall by the door. I hadn’t noticed it before. When did he have this installed? It looks old like it belongs in some Victorian house somewhere in an English mansion, like the mansions we saw on our trip to England. It looks cast iron and very strong. He must have had it installed while I was at work, but when I don’t know. “It will raise your arms right above your head, and your legs will be raised slightly off the floor, then I’m going to beat you with this” He holds up the stick like object and I can’t breathe again, what the fuck did I do for him to believe this of me? “It’s a cane, Mercedes, and it will really, really hurt” Why does he always treat me like I’m dumb? I know what a cane is! I’ve seen one many times before, but no one has ever used such a thing on me. He runs his hand down my cheek, and I want to beg him not to do this, but my voice fails me, I can’t find the words. I guess because I know deep down no matter how much I beg he won’t stop until he feels satisfied he’s punished me enough. “If you scream, I’ll gag you. Do you understand?” He runs his thumb over my lips sending shivers of fear down my body right down to my toes. I nod because I just can’t speak. “Arms above your head” He orders softly. His tone is confusing, but I do as I’m told. He takes the meat hook in one hand and with his other hand, he slips it though the rope around my wrists. When he’s checked, I’m securely hooked he lets go. Looking at me he smiles a sweet smile, while the voice in my head is screaming “Is he for real? He’s fucking enjoying this. You’re so dumb why didn’t you leave after the first time he hurt you?” I shake my head at myself, I can’t think like this right now I need to keep my head and get through whatever it is he wants to do to me this time. “Good girl” He tucks the hair that’s fallen from my braid behind my ears, then pulls my face up to him, he kisses my lips softly. I want to hold him, beg him to love me, to forgive me for what he thinks I’ve done, but no this is my punishment, this is what I deserve. “This is what you always deserve, cause you're fucking stupid!” The voice in my head shouts at me again, and I know she’s right, I am stupid, stupid for putting up with this for so long, the endless torture he puts me through, but when he’s good he’s so good. “This won’t take long, I promise. I’m going to whip you with this six times, then I’m going to fuck you really, really hard”
“No, Elijah, please” I’m crying like a frightened child, I can’t bear this I just want to die, it’s all too much. I feel like one of those girls in some horror movie, the ones who know they’re about to die, and there’s nothing they can do about it. If they beg it won’t stop what happens to them, yet they beg anyway, hoping it might work. He lets go of me and walks over to the long handle and begins to turn it, instantly my arms being to raise up and up and I can feel my arms stretch upward and it hurts, my stomach muscles tighten as my feet lift off the floor until I’m suspended about three inches off it. He stops turning the handle and lets go of it, when he’s satisfied its secure he walks over to me his hand finding my naked backside, caressing me. “Elijah...” I finally find my voice.
“Ssshh” Is all he says as he takes my braid in his hand and pushes it over my left shoulder, the muscles in my arms, stomach and legs tighten to the point of uncomfortable and I know it’s from being tied up and suspended like this. “Hold tight, baby, this is really gonna hurt”
Holy fuck!
I heard it before I felt it, the swishing sound as he brings the cane down over my bare back. “Argh...!” Oh Jesus! The pain! Tears sting my eyes, blinding me. Normally I’d love this kind of punishment, but it doesn’t mean the same coming from Elijah, it’s so much worse.
“Don’t scream or I will gag you and cane you harder” I can sense his smile, he loves hurting me like this. God it’s not supposed to be like this. He hit me again and again. “Why did you lie to me?”
“Elijah. Please... I. Didn’t lie to you... Fuck!” I feel like I’m dying! “I would never. Argh! Lie to you please... Stop...! Please,” I pulled on the restraint, throwing my head back trying somehow to protect my back from his punishing blows.
“Hush now, it’ll be over soon” Again he hit me sending my head forward as the blow hit me right across my ass. I tried so hard not to scream out, but it’s so hard. My legs start jolting in protest to the pain. I tilted my head and bit into my arm stifling my screams. “You let him touch you. Why did you do that, Mercedes? Why do you delight in angering me so?”
“Please, please... Believe me. Elijah, please. Oh god, I’m sorry,” I begged so hard that it vibrates deep in my chest. God, my voice hoarse from screaming.
“You will learn” He breathes, then I feel the cane as it connects with the backs of my thighs, the pain is just too much and I can feel myself slipping into unconsciousness. I feel it across my ass again and my back right up to my shoulders, and then against my hips over and over until I feel nothing, as my body gets used to his raining blows. He’s breathless when he hits me for a final time and drops the cane. I hear it hit the floor, but I can’t open my eyes. I can’t feel my arms, and I don’t know how long I’ve been here, or when this torture is going to end. “There, there” He says as he comes to stand in front of me, holding me against him still suspended off the floor, his mouth finds mine. I try and pull away from him, but he grabs my faces and forces his tongue into my mouth, kissing me ferociously making me cry against his mouth. I can’t open my eyes, they’re so heavy. I feel his hand on my breast teasing my nipple, I’m screaming inside for him to stop but it’s in vain. He gets to his knees as his hands travel down my body, kissing my stomach as he goes. I can’t hold my head up I’m in such pain. I feel his hand on me, teasing my clitoris, then his finger inside me, twisting round and round stretching me. I hear him moan in his throat and I feel like vomiting. Why would he think I would want this, want him? I didn’t feel him get up, but he grabbed my waist, lifting me so some of the pressures off my arms. “Wrap your legs round my waist and this will be over very quickly, Mercedes,” I tried so hard, but I just don’t have the strength to move. I can feel his erection against my leg and in frustration; he grabs my right leg lifting it above his waist holding me in place as best he can. Violently he slams into me without warning making me scream, the pain from yesterday still there deep inside my aching body. All I can think right now is how this really hurts and I’m going to die here... like this. He thrust harder and harder into me and it’s agony; I found the strength from somewhere and wrapped my legs tightly around him. “Oh, you are a good girl. You want this too. I knew you did” He breathes in almost a whisper. All I ca
n think is it will be over quicker like this, but it hurts so badly, he’s so deep inside me that I can feel his cock hitting the pit of my stomach. He moans loudly and yells of “Oh, fuck, baby!” escape from his mouth. He thrust hard one last time before stilling himself as he lets go and comes deep inside me, holding me there tightly. He pulls out of me sharply, and lets go of me. I drop and the rope burns as I feel the pinch in my arms. I’m once again suspended in midair. I hear the clicking of the long handle as he unwinds it slowly, my feet touch the floor. But I have no strength at all and I fall to my knees, my hands still bound in rope, and hooked up on this crane like meat hook and chain. My head flops forward because I can’t hold my head up at all, no matter how much I try. And I’m so tired and in so much pain. God, the pain it burns, every muscle in my body is aching and on fire. He kneels down in front of me, unhooking me from this... his new contraption, my hands still bound in rope. I fall against him. “Good girl” He whispers as he kisses my forehead. “Such a good girl” He lifts me into his arms and carries me, still naked and bound in rope out of the room, along the hallway and up the few stairs to our room. I’m vaguely aware of the sting in my back, as his arms rest against me, carrying me upstairs with simple grace like the dark prince he is. My body jerks of its own accord, the pain is indescribable!
The house is now flooded with the morning sun. I feel so tired; my eyes are still closed as he walks through our bedroom and it to the bathroom. “Can you stand?” His voice is no longer menacing, his accent, no longer thick Irish but his calm Californian accent with only a trace of Irish mixed within. He’s back from the darkness; he’s my Elijah once more... I think! I nod as he slowly releases me, my toes touch the cold floor and I’m not so sure I can stand but somehow I do. He roughly unties my hands and throws the rope into the corner of the bathroom. I’m cold and scared and in pain and right now wishing I was dead! He takes my face in his hands and looks me in the eyes. “You know why I had to punish you, don’t you, Sadie?”