After coming in my mouth, he lays on the floor next to the pedestal for a few minutes, not moving. Then he unshackles me. I remove the dildos and set them aside to wash tomorrow. I take the nipple clamps off and put them away. He waits for me. I follow him listlessly out of the dungeon room. He turns to me in the hallway and says, "I'm staying here tonight." He turns and keeps walking, but I stay put for a moment. He's never stayed over night up here before. I don't like this.
I follow him into the bedroom. He lays down right away, still naked, getting under the covers, the light turned low. I am very thrown off and scared. What is he going to do to me next? To sleep next to him, not knowing what I will wake up to....I don't know if I can do it. Up to now, at least I knew WHEN he was going to do something to me, even if I didn't know what. Now....
I go into the bathroom and clean up. When I come out, I go into the large dressing closet. I usually sleep naked, not having anything comfortable to wear to bed. But, silly as it is, I don't want to have to sleep next to him naked. I debate between the silk robe that I came in and one of the teddies he brought me. I finally decide on the teddy. The silk robe is too wrinkly and would be too uncomfortable. It's going to be hard enough to sleep as it is.
When I come out of the big closet in the teddy, I walk to the bed quickly, practically scurrying, my arms crossed over my boobs protectively. I get into the bed and pull the covers over me. I turn away from him and curl up tight. I lay there rigidly. He doesn't do or say anything, and a little while later, I can tell by his breathing that he's asleep. I relax a little.
I'm very tired, but can't sleep. I normally read before sleeping, but feel weird doing it now. I start thinking about my family, my daughter. I miss my daughter so much. I try not to think of her too much. It's normally too painful, but now I just can't stop. I think now that I will be stuck here forever, going through this night after night. She'll grow up never knowing what happened, not understanding why I abandoned her. I keep thinking about her and start to cry. At first I cry silently and calmly, but then just a little harder, still silently, but with my body shaking, unable to stop myself.
I hear him turn over. I think he's still sleeping, but then he asks with no expression, almost clinically, "Why are you crying?" Still too caught up in my thoughts, I answer without thinking or waiting for permission.
"I miss my daughter." Oh, god! I clamp a hand over my mouth and roll over towards him, my eyes side. What have I done? He must never know about her. He might hurt her now. What have I done?
He's leaning on one arm looking at me. Still with no expression, he asks, "You have a daughter?"
I nod, my hand still over my mouth. It's too late to take it back now. He knows.
He says, "They didn't tell me....I should have guessed." Somehow, I know he's thinking of the light stretch-marks on my stomach.
He lies back heavily on the bed, becoming completely motionless. He has absolutely no expression on his face, but I realize that there is a great deal of something going on inside. I have no idea what. I just stay put, afraid, staring at him, trying to read his face.
Finally, he almost shakes himself and looks at me with some of the fury he showed earlier that night. He leans towards me and grabs me face.
He asks, "Do you want to see her again?"
I put down my arm and nod.
He asks, "Do you think that you WILL ever see her again?" I shake my head.
He says through gritted teeth, "You're right. You won't. You will never, ever see your daughter again. Never. You don't DESERVE to see her!"
Oh, god! And, he's right. I don't. I DON'T deserve to see her! How could I have allowed myself to tell him about her? What sort of a monster am I to put my daughter in danger like that? And I believe him that I will never see her again.
I lay back and start to sob like a little girl, throwing my arms over my face.
He pushes the covers off and rolls over on top of me, leans on his elbows, and watches me cry. I don't even care. He finally pulls my arms away from my face, not looking angry anymore. The fury is gone from his face and his expression is blank again. I just look him in the face, still crying. But with him watching me like that, I pretty quickly wind down and stop.
When I'm done, he kneels back, takes my ankles and spreads my legs wide. I don't care about that, either. Let him do whatever he wants! I don't care. He lays back down on me and enters me missionary-style. Immediately, he starts thrusting hard and deep, slow at first, then faster, with no finesse, just pure, simple fucking.
Thinking of what I may have done to my daughter, I think, I deserve this. I deserve no better. And I just don't care what happens to me if I can't see her again. I lay there without moving for a little bit, thinking I'll start crying again.
Instead, without knowing I'm going to do it, I wrap myself around him, tightly. Then I start thrusting back, harder and then harder. I'm making it hurt, punishing myself on him, and spurring him to be even more aggressive with me.
It feels good. I WANT him to punish me. I become strangely aroused as I want him to just take me, to TAKE me just like he's doing, just fucking me as hard he wants, not trying to hurt me, but not knowing or caring if he hurts me or not, as if I don't matter. And I'm tired of everyone always having to be careful with me because of my size. I want him to just TAKE me!
I start saying quietly with each thrust, "Yes!...Yes!...This!...Yes!" thinking in my head, "Yes, just take me!", "Like this!", "Yes, this is what I deserve!"
I know he's starting to bang me up a little inside, and this time, I don't care. I don't care what happens to me! I am becoming more and more excited and horny in an angry, hungry way. I don't care if it hurts, it also feels so good. I just want him to keep doing this, this uninhibited, raw fucking. I know if it continues, I'll eventually faint, but I just don't care.
