A Wanted Submissive

29

Despite myself I had fallen asleep after what felt like hours of just laying in bed stiff as a board. Nightmares came to me the second I closed my eyes.

I could feel myself physically sweating at how intense and vivid they were. Gabriel was beating me with a belt and using my face to break glass and I was so broken.

This was what I experienced as I slept and then even in that deep dark fog, I heard it: my door was opening.

My eyes flung open but it was like a sleep paralysis had gripped me in that moment and for the first moment in my life.

I wanted to turn towards my door and watch him like a hawk. I had no clue what he planned to do to me but damn it I refused to be caught unaware and somehow more helpless.

It had been daytime when I'd first come into my room and as I waited and slept, a deep and heavy night set in.

Gabriel switched the light on in my room and as the light spilt into my room, panic finally allowed me to move. I sat up and turned to him in one swift motion.

He was barefoot and in pajamas. Both hands were empty and visible to me almost with intention. Like he I was a wild animal he'd come to meet and not his victim once again.

It was like he wanted to keep me calm. I studied his face next and found a calm expression. At times when he did some of the most horrendous things his face would be blank.

Empty and devoid of emotion, such that no pleas or tears could touch him. He was so far gone and detached that nothing could prevent him from doing whatever he intended to do once he'd decided.

The calm on his face right now was not that. It was more like whatever emotions he did feel, he had decided to carefully pack away somewhere behind his eyes and mask then with this picture of calm.

He took a step towards me as I stared at his face trying to understand what I I saw. The action froze me between running from him and becoming a statue on the spot. As a result one foot was suddenly planted firmly on the ground as if to get up from the bed.

But my fists gripped onto my sheets as if to anchor myself to the bed. He kept coming toward me and before I could land on freeze or flight he was directly infront of my seated form.

He was looking down at me, his hands were on his side and he was so close that unexpected droplets of water fell from his hair and onto me. I looked up at him from the bed on which I sat and before I knew it his hand was on my cheek.

I flinched and gasped as so much fear flooded adrenaline into my system but the touch was actually.... Gentle. His long fingers wound around my face such that really only his palm touched a portion of my cheek while his fingers where in my curls.

And his thumb wiped something wet from beneath my eye and from my cheek. I hadn't realised I was crying but maybe I had been doing so in my sleep.

The action, to my shock made me gasp. I hated it, I hated the fear that was mixing with something all together different. I hated how searching for his anger behind his eyes quickly became staring into them; unable to look away.

He said, "why are you crying?"

My response to my shock was quick and clear, "you're a monster."

Some of the hate I had felt for myself slipped away at my response. I felt less pathetic and more afraid and the fear made that hatred that slipped from me fall on Gabriel.

We stared at each other. Then his head lowered. Not slowly but slow enough to not catch me by surprise as his face came closer to mine and suddenly I was acutely aware of his hand that held my face.

I couldn't blink at all, and to my surprise I didn't try to move. I didn't want to find out if he would release me if I decided to run.

His palm tilted my head up to him so that our lips were close, so close. We watched each other's eyes and I tried to figure out what exactly he was searching for in mine.

The anticipation of what would happen next made each second stretch, but then that much awaited second came.

His lips were on mine. Softly and gently he moved against them. The action foreign to both of us I think because I could sense his uncertainty.

I wondered if this was the moment to pull back from him; to run. Yet, I found myself reacting instead. My lips moved in sink with his and it made him confident.

His tongue moved to part my lips and again the gentleness felt foreign but I surrendered to the request and I stood.

Still as we kissed with a sweet calm I pressed up against him. My hands buried into his hair. I tried to deepen the kiss and he let me.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I was able to acknowledge that I hated this man and what he'd forced me to do and become.

The thought was forgotten, however when the fingers that were in my hair lightly pulled. His free hand gripped my hips and crashed my stomach closer to his hard on.

The kiss became more violent and we became more sure. We knew how to react to rougher touch and so we did.

He was stronger and taller than I was but he let me turn us. He let me push him into a seated position where I once sat. I climbed on his lap with my legs on either side of him so that his head tilted up and I kissed him.

And I kissed him until I cried once more.

Only then did I move to seperate us but he gripped me and flipped me. Gently I was laid in the bed. He pull the covers over me and then joined me.

I thought I would bury myself in his embrace but he laid his head on my breast and somehow I let him bury himself in my embrace.

My arms surrounded him and he held me and he slept. I could not sleep. Instead I layed awake staring at the ceiling, questioning myself.