The Pacifist [COMPLETED]

Disobedience & the Art of Suffering

Joseph

When he had had his fill, Joseph resurface and found Rachel's face serene, as if she was locked in a deep mediation. Oh no you don't, he thought. This wasn't meant to be good. She was borderline vegetative as he mounted her and wrapped his hand around her throat. The loss of blood to her brain made her snap out of her daze and her eyes quickly found is.

"You're too comfortable, little one," he said, the endearment catching both of them off guard. To distracted from it, he squeezed her neck harder until he felt her becoming limp and let go. Her slipping consciousness returned and she jerked from the disorientation. He grabbed her face then. "You're not allowed to relax," he growled.

He loved that she was still writhing with desperate needs. Joseph had decided that he wouldn't let her come and wouldn't fuck her. He was going to torture the fuck out of her.

"Why did you wear black and gray tonight?" he asked, finally acknowledging her disobedience.

Rachel raised her chin and pressed her lips together, not offering an explanation. With an assenting grunt, he released her ankles, flipped her over and clipped the cuffs to one another. He attached the joined cuffs to one strap this time.

"Why?" he repeated as he moved to the other end of room. He returned and tugged on her hair to turn her face towards him. She still said nothing. "Alright then."

He released her and stood up, flashing a heavy leather belt. His intention, when turning her head, wasn't to make her look at him, but so that she could see what was coming. Joseph's chest swelled with pleasure at the fear in her eyes. It was the same belt that had made her call yellow the first time they had played. Making her call a safe word was the last thing he wanted, but wanted that beautiful, wide-eyed, hopeless look she was giving him.

Like the last time he folded it in half. "Last chance..." He delighted in her stubbornness when she turned her face away, hiding it in the pillow. The sound of leather on skin echoed in his near empty bedroom. She hadn't made a sound, but her shoulders moved from her heaving breaths. She didn't like the belt. Perfect, he hit her again, testing the current appetite of his monster. What Rebbecca and Rachel didn't understand, was the fear of his capabilities and the depths of his needs. The last time he had let his thirst for violence unchecked had been on tour, and it had served him and his squad well. It wasn't until an innocent family had almost fallen victim to his unrestrained state of red that he realized how truly monstrous he could be. He almost couldn't stop and his thirst for blood had almost overridden his moral compass. His code: No women, no children.

Another hit landed on Rachel's backside. It felt good to stretch the legs of that dark part him, a part that Rebbecca could never satisfy because she was one-hundred percent willing and happy. He raised the belt again and stopped, coming back into his body, chest heaving, his unfocused eyes refocusing as the sobering thoughts chilled him to his core. The infliction of pain was just a tool to get what he truly wanted: Suffering. It was why he had been drawn to Rachel that day by the canal. She suffered so beautifully.

He looked at her unmoving form, angry red welts already rising to the surface of her perfect skin. And put down the belt. He released the cuffs from the restraints and gently turned her over and searched her face for any sign of disgust or horror. Kneeling by the bed, he watched as her breaths caught on tiny hiccups and pushed back her hair from her face that was wet with tears. Joseph's gut turned when he realized he had checked out and may have missed a safe word.

"Did you... did you call red or yellow?"

Rachel shook her head.

Joseph nearly collapsed with relief. "Was it too much?"

She nodded, her bottom lip quivering.

"Why..." the nausea he felt after violence rose from his belly to his chest and he couldn't finish his question: Why didn't you stop me?

But Rachel knew because she answered the unfinished question. "Because you needed it."

Joseph cracked and a sob ripped through his chest. He hugged her tightly. "Thank you."