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Committing
A man of mid-twenties, always well-dressed, doesn't talk much, has a well versed rule book of supposed gentlemanly etiquettes, traditionalist, misogynistic. Sadistic. Vile. Repulsive. Pathetic. Liar. Psychopath.
I stepped further into the room but didn't let go of the door as I stared in horror at what laid in front of me. A wooden desk and a matching chair placed with the intention of receiving the perfect view of the bathroom. I couldn't look at it any more and averted my eyes to the...thing that I never doubted to be anything but a mirror.
The toilet, the bath, the shower, the whole area in view for his unnamed pleasures. He enjoyed my unsuspicious mind and trifled with it. I hadn't given it much thought, but Dimitri never tried anything extreme physical with me for which I was thankful but now that I am on the other side, I feel nothing but immensely violated.
How many times had he seen me naked? How many times has he enjoyed the v
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Submitting Insensible
I was happy. Very happy and sad. It must be because I didn't want my fears to come true. I definitely didn't want Liza to be caught in this mess and get tortured because of me. Tied to a chair, weak and helpless. She was receiving the worst side of what I was going through and in comparison, my situation was hardly anywhere as cold as hers. That is why I was feeling sad. That must be why I was feeling sad. The way back from the darkness behind the walls was a complete blur. I don't remember anything after I saw what I saw and heard what I did. What's left after, is now, in the bed, under the covers, with the several safe alibis I placed before, undone. Voices inside my head nagged and criticized me for not exploring more of the unknown as much as I could. They tried to drown this other silent yet persistent whisper that was bothered by Dimitri's actions. I simply refused to acknowledge it, but this itching feeling underneath my skin ma
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The chair scraped against the carpeted floor, not loud but the cocooning silence made it seem so harsh against the muted ears. Perhaps the beginning of the dramatic events that were supposedly lined up next. A siren, a red flag, a blow of a whistle as my captor refused to match my eyes while taking the seat opposite to me. The third one still empty and unoccupied. I wanted it to be Liza. I wanted to believe it was going to be Liza but of course it won't be. It will be a good sign if it wasn't Liza because then it would mean that they didn't know about my secret knowledge. Needless to say the obvious, this night would have turned out to be more deadly than it already was. Sometimes I really wonder if I am stupid. Too dumb and foolish to realize the obvious. A disappointment. Probably the reason why I may never make it out of here. How could I not realize that the third seat would be for the third person living in this house. A living, breathing, annoying and cal
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The wallpaper looked interesting. The small little flowers with thin tendrils wrapping and reaching out to the other flowers, sitting against a dark green background. A little faded out, a little unnoticeable until someone looks at them, really looks at them. Maybe because they are bored, maybe because they are a keen observer of the surroundings or maybe just because they want a distraction. His face was so close to mine. The slow warm breath fanning my cheeks inhaling me as if I was a flower, a Rose, held in his arms as we danced to the soft melody echoing in the piano room. His well-fitted black suit against my red satin dress. Rustling, touching, brushing against each other. An arm wound around my waist, hand reaching to the small of my back, another gripped my palm in his. Small baby steps. Left, right, sway, back, front, round. The wall. The wall is so pretty. So interesting. It should be enough to help me drift away and not be here. Not at
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The touch of pins and needles against my palm felt good. A sensation of pain as my palms pressed against the chilled marble counter top, waiting, as I looked up through the window and up above in the night sky. Wisps of grey clouds hid the stars but not too condensed enough to impede the glow of the moon as it shined like it usually does even if a little dim right now. A deliberate noise of a step reverberated behind me. Too close and near than I expected and was prepared for, as my heart lurched a beat, making me close my eyes after to compose myself before I faced the devil whom I summoned. I could feel him waiting and relishing the thick tension in the air as I exhaled loudly and turned around. Blinded by the sudden change of light, the shine of the moon to the darkness inside the kitchen, I almost couldn't see anything except for the light brown sweater he was wearing and my dim shadow upon it. I looked up and there it was, pools of green
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I kept my eyes closed when I woke up. Perhaps I didn't sleep at all, or maybe I did, it was hard to tell. My head was too colluded with thoughts and things to be able to be present in this continuum. My frozen body was nowhere near to being the correct projection of my racing mind. It was almost too many things to be able to focus on one particular state. I was losing myself. Or evolving into something most don't. Is this how humanity mutates? Through pain and suffering, perhaps. It reaches a point of desensitization. Numbness to what once used to feel like immense pain. Shocks instead of surprises. Pain instead of pleasure. "You should know something." I was startled at my own lack of reaction. As if I already knew he was there. Subconsciously at least. His words were slow and close. I wasn't aware of the dip in the bed beside me, but now his mere presence burned a hole there. The silence that followed after his unfinished or rather discontinue
Submitting Rush
I was holding a knife. A blunt, serrated, steel knife with a smooth shiny surface. My reflection a slight blur on top of it, as it glinted in the bright kitchen. Sunlight streamed in through the glass panes of the windows, a nostalgic warmth that I didn't know I would miss so much. The normality of the situation as well, as I dragged the cold knife against the smoking hot pancakes to cut a more manageable piece that I could chew inside my mouth. The taste of it melting against my tongue like the butter it was smeared in. A perfect balance of sweetness and texture. The clatter of knives and forks was the only thing that kept the silence dead in the kitchen and the whole house. The lively noise that made the atmosphere seem like it is dwelt in, otherwise the lack of Ivan and his nosiness wouldn't have been distinguishable as it was most of the time. This was a change from the mundane routine and I couldn't help but confess that I liked it more in comparison to being shut in th
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I had to feel him. It was a necessity. My fingers gently grabbing his hair, getting lost in the soft and silky tufts, head tilted towards him, eyes closed, lips touching and moving in a non-periodic rhythm, legs strangled on his lap. It was something that I had to do. Right? The dilemma that arose at my conspicuous actions surprised me. It was not supposed to be like that. I was not supposed to question my need to pretend in front of Dimitri about my supposed affections towards him. He was no child and of course knew that all of this was just my way to show him my compliance. I was okay with him knowing that as long as I got to have Liza out of there. Away from here. But now, I wasn't sure if he knew the self-doubt I was facing as well. His fingers suddenly curled up, as if he was trying to stop himself from doing something, but changed his mind once again when they uncurled and decided to slid under my dress. That was the moment when all the tangled up uncertainty i
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