tw // abusive , toxic relationship , hardcore , bdsm
I sat still in a pond of ember, smiled without agony. Fingers played with the spark even if they're burned. The faith deep inside screeched the loudest for help, it can't be saved anymore. Innocence died in silence, no time for it to crawl.
My feet strolled slowly as my eyes saw the word 'VEGETARIAN' department on the grocery store nearest my apartment. It's almost six in the morning and I should've rushed before my other half woke up. Our refrigerator's running out the food supply, so are the liquors my boyfriend likes to spend his day with.
Eyes met someone I've known for a long time standing behind the pharmacy store’s cashier. Lips were smiled behind the mask even a bit aching on the edge, I was somehow compelled to take it as a pledge. He's my long gone friend, and we've been apart since I can't recall. We took a long conversation during the rendezvous; left me in apathy and unnoticed that the clockwise run faster than it has to be. I should go home by now or...
My man has been awake for maybe fifteen minutes before I reached the house. He's staring at me and I found his body moved closer, as he said something in particular. Those two droopy eyes never get their contact off of me as I dropped my grocery bag and so my shoes beside the door. The room kept wider without any sounds made by his existence, covered me in an unpleasant heart beat. The impossibility of persevere to merely take an exit from the cursed occurrence is an absolute. Toil is more than a buzzard to catch my dying soul out from its cage. I should've stamped that I can't go anywhere from his sight for more than an hour.
The veins inside his throat pulling one to another and hitting vocal bands to make the highest pitch of yell. Boiling emotions were all around us, wedded us to be together. Because in a relationship, I should've known the unwritten rules: eyes are made to be swollen, lips are created for bleeding.
Once again he spoke in flame about how dare I was to go outside and met one of my friend in a grocery, without his notice. Simple questions were marked everywhere and it's indeed a normal for him to get angry, isn't it?
I squeaked quite loud when one side of my cheek felt sore and painted blue, like it always be. Deeming an open fist is not something misfortune that befell me. If my inmost has a head, it will be nodded in approval for what he's doing. I'm the one who should apologise. Love indeed needs some hurts in between. My knees were bent asking for his mercy as I wholeheartedly hugged his from below, and he saw my damp eyes which yet recover from last night.
“This is what you want to start your day, honey? Hm?” his slanted gaze were somehow kill me the most. Toil touched softly my bruised side of face, and if I might say that callused palm thawed the stiffness inside. That hand which I need but hate the most, he's the living manifestation of i-love-him-to-death sentence.
My head once again—for a million times—in my life complaining the accusation in his words towards me. That's all wrong. I never wanted nor have a guts to cheat over him. As my tears one by one rolled down through their protrusion barrier, the cracking wall is no longer be mended. Toil always has a sharp-witted head to solve the conundrum I've involuntarily made under my gaze. I felt so much ugly with my current face that I could probably cursed myself in a word. He lifted my position to be equal as him, kissed these eyes smoothly but didn't erase the tears as let it to stay the way it is. Ahn Toil and I know the best for us to keep this relation for more than five years.
The room of ours used to be cleaner and neat the day before, and it's once again happened to be slowly in disaster-aftermath-looked-alike. If TLC needs a guest for the next season's Hoarders, we'd be the upper crust. Those powerful hands wouldn't eager to move for tidying. He's only in charge of throwing one by one tossed paper over the chair, used tissues on the desk, leftover cigs and crisps here and there, and so the beer's mark on the carpet.
That horrible scenery can be left for a moment. Now I ought to cook his favourite vegetarian dinner for this night's special event, his birthday. Toil's lips were on my neck skins as I put my spatula to flip the egg benedict salad, circled those muscly arm around my waist and making me dance into his hum. The bitterness from his breath due to alcohol and cigs were all over my air, it's calming me. I was arching a smile, hold myself to withstand the pain when his tongue slightly tasting my warm sweat. He always knew the way to turn me on, in every chance or occasion. We both agreed for the grown ups to be part of this scene. He also offered me to inhale his weed cigs, flight me slow to a dreamy and shuttered vision along with him. We shared each other smoke by mouth, he tasted the opened wound which he made on my lips and suck my blood that was seeping out. Said it's the only non vegetarian thing he would deign to swallow.
The benedict salad was less appetite than my bruised body, seemed to be told by his stares. I knew we can't skip the meal, but he's in hurry. Our kiss was the answer of all the physical emotion, between pure and the immoral. In a minute i've lost my chance to even take a breath, and that was my reason to push his body away from me, the back of his hitting the dinner table's side. Toil's little sparkly eyes was aroused by how the blood was now staining my chin. We stood a feet apart, yet I could notice how his pulse levitated watching with a sordid fantasy that was built within.
Toil moved forward; replaced my fingers with his, licked the red liquid on his thumb out from my wound.
“You're looked beautiful.” he slit my fringe to expose all bruises, experiencing passionately all the views before him. I once again smiled towards him, bent my head a bit to feel more of his rough palm on my cheek. His soft appearance broke my virtues into pieces.
“Do you still love me?” eyes meeting eyes, so innocent and uncontaminated. He asked the same question almost everyday, to reassure that I'm still the loyal one.
Honestly the more I hooked to him, the more human I am; as my blood inside my body which I still could feel, all the hurts he gave which I could bear. He also always complimented how do I look and my blood, with or without make up. A mindset which sent me to nod my head in agreement, a little sound came out like a chimes.
“Then don't ever disappear again...”
He kissed again right onto my fear, my bruise, my top of the head. If he's a demon, he's affected me to do all the worst sin hell can command. That man's no longer under the lucifer, he's defining of the Incubus coming on earth. Eventually, we decided to take the meal before the main party began.
The spark became a flame since the gasoline came nearer, covering all my shirt. I wasn’t bother by it; only smile within, only toying the hurt that I already gave in. My body kept the scorching as a very best-friend, holding it tight and made it as a personal weapon.
Toil always stared at me like he would do a biggest show of the year tonight, I couldn't think about how rough it would be. My body will be always ready for him; I'm the luckiest woman to be able touch his flesh. We played raw and chafe at the bit, and he let the punishment took the crime on bed with a mess.
I offered him to take a wine before we did the execution. The smoothest bottle of à la rêverie he chose, the oldest and favourite one. I walked through the messiest cabinet that every couple probably would have and found what I sought near the fruit knife, so I took both of them.
The number of alcohol was written at 13.5%, the perfect one. My hand poured for two as Toil was enjoying his marijuana, lost in his grin.
As the usual game we played, we like it rough and full of devotion. Thus I dripped two or three of aphrodisiac inside Toil's cabernet glass and coming back to him. Now it's my turn to stroke his silky black hair whilst still standing closer to his body, giving him the best glass whilst holding mine. I loved the way he welcoming my waist and left his weed alone on the ashtray.
Whether or not Toil knew that I was intoxicating him, but he tend to use the same way to arouse my spirit up. We were on the final game, thus we should prepare the greatest play ever. Minutes after, Toil invited me to sit on his lap and that bulky palm went through my thigh and going deeper to warm himself within; and the grope became harder than I thought.
The juxtaposition of his gaze and spirit, between icy and hot, was now upon the hill—ushering me to get ready for the execution on our nasty king sized mattress. We passionately kissing one of another, forgetting about what time is it or what scattered things that we stepped on. Ahn Toil is indeed a sadistic, twisted individual, pushing me hard to the top of bed. It's only a sip of wine but he's already becoming the real beast of my territory.
His timing was perfectly calculated; releasing one by one of his upper attire that sticked—exposing those beautiful painting made by a black ink on all over his arms and chiseled chest. I was definitely still laying down and accustomed with how weak my defence was. He only remained the trousers, and that's my job to remove those fucking thick jeans from his lower skin. Toil's eyes still towards me undyingly, ready to feast my figure in one bite. His rhythm and movement is unknown, unrecognisable still.
His left hand once again pulling and grabbing my hair harshly, command me to get awake and sit in front of him. Notwithstanding how uncomfortable my position was, he still did it anyway to please his desire.
The teeth of him were chattering like a crackhead waiting for the next volume of drug to possess their body. His grab were becoming more rude as my hand were in his version of slow motion to open his belt, so does his gaze watching me holding my tears. I thought in a split second, everyday in my life, that my soul would be taken out and gone in his hands. But fortunately he always saved my life right in time I gave up my ghost. That's how my love towards him getting bigger and greater.
It's my turn to enjoy his fierce part of body, his beautifully carved phallus which already in a semi-hard. My deepest throat screamed the loudest to touch and rub its tip. You're wishing to have that part in your life? No fucking way. You’ll never win the lottery because I already sold my whole soul to him for this one.
Time was still ticking and one by one of those seconds were collapsed in our wildest night. He always changed the method to please ourself, in our own way. Not to mention how much my tiniest splash of blood was splattered on his dearest aqua coloured bed cover. The callused palm intimidated my neck as it choked it even without my acknowledge, brought me to the state that there's no room for an oxygen to slip into.
“Fuck!” he once again frustrated on how tight my woman part was. A glance of mine beckoned a million tons of apologises in shortcoming, who would've thought that's my fault too? I hit as hard as I can to release his palm out of my neck indicating that my arteries are no longer could bear the strain. Toil understood the code and changed the treatment with an initial slap before wrung my small mandibula with another hand. My grateful was on air knowing him still strove me to be alive. Finally after many times of trial, he can insert to penetrate his bulky manhood inside along with my insanity as I scream a lot. Yet he didn't hear me this time, for fuck sake.
Toil is always be above to drive how the game field's run and never deign to be subdued. That's the top notch of our relationship's rule. Didn't care how loud and tearful my scream was, that just made his imaginary tantalized even more. Toil turned my body to kneel down before him with my back lean to his body. Thus he can grab both my arms tightly from behind and ride me like a drunk taxi driver. I didn't count how many tears and my liquid dropped on the mattress, so was my blood. His fingers also did their job to roughly rub my labia, which made me crazy more than ever.
Rough. Loud. Madness and full of heated. All collides become one.
I heard Toil was swearing my name, cursing like he loathed my existence so damn much. “Ahn Toil... it's hurt...” the past screaming voice of mine already tore my vocal band apart, made that whisper displeasing to be heard. But once again; the more I tried to fight, the more Toil grew on me. He's being in equal between apathy and concern towards my condition, so he sealed his lips with mine as smooth as a cherry wine—as it's my forever most lovable position. We did the ride or die in our relationship, and an extreme treatment would be one of our spice in everyday's life.
Almost three hours or so since our wine's been sipped and I already lost an energy with every thread that wrecked my body. In the end, before my head was collapsed, he slammed my body once again to be under him.
“I’m gonna come!” as he didn’t slow the beat of his hip, his sweats already belonged to me. Our bed was almost broke due to his insane movement and didn’t want to detach his manhood off of my exile until that splashing warm liquid melted and soaked the inner side of my burrow, five shots in a row.
Now a limbo took over the moon on my head, with a voice of Succubus angel that is now upon my soul, I consciously took a sharp fruit knife under my pillow. Without waited a minute to pass, my hand slitted his neck from below and slightly cut the carotid artery, spreading the fresh blood on my naked body. Toil's eyes drastically changed from being in a pseudo-heaven to blankly stared right into my face.
Finally I could see the most beautiful figure, helplessly and seeking my hand to helped him mend the leaked artery. But I refused to do as he command this time, only throwing a smile that maybe could help the situation. That blood was already bathed and replaced him into a different creature, like a prey that's been bitten and no longer could defence themselves. That time, Ahn Toil was the one who finally being muted for the next second, as his fortress were collapsed and superimposed me so I had to laid him down aside.
His droopy eyes were still in pain, yet the smile was built on both edges escorted by a double sound of bloody coughs. “That's.. perfect.” whispered him while his pulse was still pumping the blood flow which already painted all over our bed. Was those words defining that tonight was our best part in our five years old relationship? Am I a good girl that he ever had in his entire life?
I was smiling a bit wider, in spite of the little sore that still lingered there. I took his red palm on my cheek, to caress my bruised face and calmed me for awhile—watching him dying and getting paler. Smoke and alcohol scent were erased: it's only a sickeningly dry, sweet metallic. As it dries and ages, it takes on a vile pungent that smothers your senses and suffocates your breath. His smile was also always be there, as the blank stares becoming a total black and quiet.
As I've already said, I love him to death. I decided to kiss his forehead and the only open wound that I created minutes ago, which already in silent.
A chime sound from my phone surprised me.
hows the night?
need the plan b pill?
Ah, I forgot that my old friend who I met this morning already changed his number. Once again I casted a glance at the body of my lover who was lying stiff and covered in blood.
My phone was threw on the bed side and I went back to sink my own body to that cold but full of peacefulness figure. Putting my kiss on his lips for the final game, symbolized that I've already seized his throne.
“Happy birthday, honey. Thank you for everything.”
