The Breaing

The deep brown hues of her eyes glittered with the threat of tears that needed to spill. Her cheeks were pink with frustration at the inability to release them and she was at her wits end. Rubbing her aching palms she tried to get the phantom pain to release itself, but she knew better, it wasn't anything physical, but mental - emotional really. Pain rose in her chest, mixed with that horrible chest squeezing need to release her tears, fears, anger, frustration, happiness, every single emotion that swirled inside of her. It had been an achingly long few months. Days had passed by with such ups and downs that her mental and emotional state was at its most fragile state. Glass couldn't compare to the fragility, it was more like spun sugar.

Hours passed as she sat in bed, hugging her knees to her chest, the crying just at the brink within her grasp but no matter what she said to herself, thought about, or did, she couldn't cry. The dam was refusing to break and it just taunted her by letting just two tears fall. She screamed with frustration, over and over into the pillow until she felt exhausted. It wasn't what she needed, but it was a release to tide her over. Lying down, she drifted off to sleep, arms clasped around the pillow tightly.

Hours passed that she slept, not hearing her Master's car pull into the driveway, or the clicking of the keys in the door, and she did not hear him calling out to her. Worried footsteps clattered down the hallway, door after door being open and shut as he sought her out until he finally found her, in their bed, curled up in such a small ball, tightly hugging that pillow and unconscious. With a creasing frown to his forehead he approached her, reaching a hand out to rub along her back. It was damp with sweat, maybe from nightmares or being too hot but he just simple wrapped his arms under her, lifting her up and shifted till she was asleep in his arms. Pressing adoring kisses to her temple, he inhaled the sweet scent of green apples in her hair from that shampoo she rarely used. It was a switch from strawberries and he was pleasantly surprised, but he knew what that meant. She never switched shampoo's. Never changed the fresh and sweet strawberry scent from her body unless she was collapsing.

Anguish filled his belly at the thought his little girl, his pet, his girl was hurting and so deeply. It had taken her so much courage to try to explain to him so many nights ago about her need for what some called "maintenance scenes." A scene that would push her past her limits, and help break the damn inside. Whether she needed to scream, cry, laugh - it would help her get there. He squeezed her tightly in his arms, nesting his face against her neck and with a tender tone he spoke to her. "Kitten, wake up. Master is home."

Fingers brushed the onyx coloured strands of her hair away from her porcelain skin, and softly she began to stir. Instead of the bubbly, happy little girl he knew and loved, the one who as soon as she saw her Master would light up like a Christmas Tree, she was lethargic, barely aware and not herself. Instead of warmth in her eyes, it was nothing but pain and distance. Even her voice when she spoke those words usually filled with such love sounded dull and broken, "Welcome home Master."

His heart broke, cracking right in half at the sight. Anger flared for a moment, why hadn't she told him just how bad it had gotten? Why didn't she tell him how much she was hurting. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and shook his head. She had a hard time telling him these things about herself, and he knew that and had always extended her patience. He pushed his nose to hers and rubbed softly, and his fingers stroked her lower back in soothing circles. "Not feeling yourself I see. Did you eat today?" His eyes lingered over the bed, noticing a few random wrappers of unhealthy junk and a cup still filled to the top of probably juice or water. She shrugged. Neither confirming nor denying, just...there.

A squeeze was all he could give her before he leaned up, sliding his body off of the bed and he carried her down the hallway and into the living room sitting her on the couch. Her arms were wrapped around that pillow still, so tightly as she watched him. He moved about with a slightly quicker pace than normal, searching for things here and there and soon he was pulling a chair to the middle of the room. It was simple, and standing by it he pointed. "Kneel in front, arms up on the seat and put your hips out."

She frowned for a second, the distaste for play at the moment was clearly etched on her face, but instead of protesting, instead of using her safe-word, she pushed herself off the couch and moved to the dreaded chair. She threw the pillow to the floor, her slight attitude apparent as it just flopped down. Kneeling on it she put her arms on the seat of the chair crossed, and she rested her forehead on them. Her hips were out, and tilted up.

This was her position for punishment spanks, the hardest he gave her and reserved for when she did something wrong. Guilt was spreading inside of her. She knew she should of set an alarm as she always did, so she could of been waiting for him when he came home, but once the depression lulled her to sleep, it was hard to get out.

He moved behind her, and with tender motions of his fingers he slowly pulled down the little panties she wore. They weren't anything cute, just boring stripes of red, yellow, white, blue and pink, but as usual she looked great in them and it made him smile a little bit, but he pushed it away. He had to help her, and using the only thing he knew that could he let his fingers and palm run over her skin. "Kitten, you didn't do anything wrong. I am not upset you weren't at the door waiting for me today, because I understand. Now, I'm going to ask you once, are you ok with going to subspace today? Because I'm going to break you."

His words were not dominating, they were nothing but utter love and care, and so soft. Her eyes opened wide at the realization he was using what she had told him that night that they sat in bed, her chewing her lip with anxiety at telling him, the only person who knew how detrimental those spanks were to helping her. Those scenes. The ones that made the dam of emotions break apart, to let every single ounce of pain, happiness, anguish, and more free.

She nodded quickly, her heart which had felt so dead and just not functioning, skipped once. Someone listened, for the first time, someone had really really listened. Closing her eyes she waited.

He smiled a bit, she wasn't ready to talk and that was ok. He would extend patience, kindness and whatever else she needed from him - always. When finally her panties were slid to her knees he simply sat down next to her, wrapped an arm under her hips and rubbed the tender flesh, placing gentle soft kisses here and there. "I love you." With that, his hand came crashing against her skin and the slow process of breaking her began. Every single crash of his hand, was echoed by a soft whimper. Every ten or so became harder until he was at the point he knew she couldn't normally take.

She was shaking, her hands clenched so tightly she might have dug her nails into her palms, but she was lucky and had cut them the day before. SMACK! SMACK! Every single blow brought her closer and closer to crying as the pain threshold that was already so low, gave way.

And she broke. Tears filled her eyes, spilling down her cheeks as gut wrenching sobs left her lips. Months of pain, so much pain left her in those tears. Her body shook for him as her emotions flowed out, all the negativity that had settled in her bones was emptying itself from her and she just sobbed. "I...love you too." Her words were choked, almost forced through the sobbing gasps for air she needed and with a soft pull she was in his lap and arms once more. Stroking her back in those soothing circles she loved so much, he just held her to his chest tighter than ever before. "It's ok to cry, remember crying is not showing weakness. I'm here now, you're ok."

Kisses placed on her head made the little girl in her squeal as she was slowly returning to herself and she just wrapped around him, arms clutching so tightly around his waist. An hour passed, maybe two and she had calmed down, the tears ended, and she laid there an exhausted puddle of herself.

But he had done it for her, broken her, pushed her past where she could handle, and for the first time in what had felt like years, she was ok.