Twisted Deal

Chapter 9

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Matteo

I wake up disoriented, my body weighed down by a dull, throbbing pain that pulses with every movement. The room around me is unfamiliar, and it takes a moment to realize that I'm in Lisa's bed. The events of last night come rushing back, a chaotic blur of savage need and uncontrollable rage. I wince as the pain flares up, reminding me of the excesses of my actions.

My eyes search the room until they find her, huddled at the edge of the bed. Lisa is a fragile, trembling figure, stripped of her dignity and left exposed. The sight of her breaks something within me. Her body is a canvas of bruises and bite marks, a grim testament to the extent of my rage. Her skin, once smooth and radiant, is now marred by my cruelty, and I'm struck by the horror of what I've done.

I had never pushed any of my previous toys this far. They all had their limits, and they adhered to them out of fear. Lisa, despite her terror, had surpassed all expectations. She had endured my brutality, not just with obedience, but with a defiance that only made me push her harder. And now, as I look at her, I see the cost of that defiance.

With a deep, unsettled breath, I carefully move her closer to the center of the bed. Her body is cold and trembling, and I drape a blanket over her, trying to offer some semblance of comfort. My fingers brush against her skin, a gesture that feels almost tender compared to the violence of last night.

I wonder if there's any trace of the fire in her eyes left. It's only been two weeks, but I've managed to break her spirit in a way that none before her had ever been. The thought of the next five and a half months looms over me like a dark cloud. What will I do with her now that I've brought her to this point? I've pushed her to her limits, but the contract remains.

What's left for her to endure? I find myself questioning the path I've set her on, the path that seems to lead to an inevitable darkness. Even as I grapple with my own inner turmoil, I know that I must find a way forward. The fire she once had may be extinguished, but her presence is now a part of my world in a way that's both unsettling and compelling.

As I sit by the edge of the bed, watching her sleep, I realize that the true challenge lies ahead. How do I manage a toy that's been so thoroughly broken? How do I continue to exert my control over someone who has already been pushed beyond her limits? The answers elude me, and for the first time, I feel a flicker of uncertainty about the path I've chosen for us both.

Lisa stirs slowly, her movements hesitant as she begins to regain consciousness. Her emerald eyes flutter open, and despite the pain and exhaustion etched into her features, there's a flicker of that same intense fire in her gaze. I exhale slowly, a breath I didn't realize I was holding. The relief that washes over me is unexpected, a complex mix of emotions that I'm not entirely sure how to interpret.

Her fire, that unyielding spirit that has endured so much, is still there. It's a subtle, almost imperceptible flame, but it's present. I find myself oddly reassured by this. There's something almost... invigorating about the thought of her not being completely broken. If she were, there would be no challenge left, no spark to push against. The idea of her being fully subdued, a mere shell of her former self, seems almost dull in comparison to the intensity of her resistance.

"Hey, sunshine," I say, the nickname slipping out before I can stop it. It's a surprise even to me, a sign of the strange affection I feel toward her despite everything. The word feels foreign on my tongue, a softness that contrasts sharply with the harshness of last night.

Lisa blinks up at me, confusion and pain mingling in her expression. Her lips part slightly as if she's about to speak, but no words come out. I'm struck by the sight of her, still so defiant despite everything.