Rebekah drowned the uncertainty of the day with sadism singing in her veins and the sting of her own knuckles, backhanding a stranger across the face. The day behind her slipped away as the sting cascaded through Rebekah's nerves. A slow smile split across her red lips. Rebekah patted the stranger's chin. Victor, was it? Vincent maybe? He winced against Rebekah's hand. She grabbed his jaw before he could pull away.
"Just getting warmed up," Rebekah purred.
Her clawed fingernails dug into the stranger's jaw and she tilted his head, offering up the right side of his face. She ran her knuckles down his skin. The beginning of a bruise was forming beneath the surface. It hadn't swelled. It wouldn't swell. Just one more love tap and Rebekah would move on to other places: places the stranger had agreed she could leave marks on. Well, really he'd said, "no marks in visible places," and for Rebekah that was more than enough permission. Vincent was practically begging to be torn up.
The final love tap on Vince's face was an open handed slap that would have sent his head rocking back had Rebekah not braced it. His groan of pain muffled Rebekah's much softer gasp. She was breathing heavier now and the next smile was half pant half sadistic grin.
"Good," Rebekah said. "You're doing good."
"I can take more," Vance replied.
Rebekah tilted her head as she stared at the stranger. She usually preferred to leave her first time play partners just as satisfied as she was when she was finished with them, but something about V-whatever's cocky demeanour made Rebekah narrow her eyes. The 'you are going to regret that' sadistic bitch expression across her face wasn't part of the act. Rebekah had long forgotten where she ended and the act begun, lines crossing over until boundaries were ravaged. At least in her normal life Rebekah had enough control to keep the dominatrix side of her beneath the surface, but there, in the dungeon, where play was supposed to be fake, holding back was as pointless as it was irrelevant: Rebekah was going to give in to her sadism, whether she wanted to or not. Consenting to the inevitability of violence felt like giving herself up to the waves of the crushing ocean. Violence roared over Rebekah until she wasn't there anymore. She wasn't anywhere. There was just the pain, brimming with sensation until it pin-balled back and forth between agony and pleasure.
"I know you can," Rebekah said pleasantly. She even allowed her facial expression to soften, something much closer to doting house wife than predator. "That's why you're going to let me tie you up, right?"