I can only imagine what you're going through, but I will try to understand the best I can.
doornail3: Thank you.
The physical pain you inflict on yourself is nothing compared to the agony you feel inside.
My mother keeps telling me to snap out of it. Like I'm under a spell.
How can you? People like to simplify things.
Have you watched the videos sent?
Yes. This one was interesting. Once I looked past all the disturbing imagery, the brutality made sense.
Stay strong.
At what time did you watch them?
4:20 am. Sharp.
Good. Today you cut my name on your right thigh. Don't forget to record it.
Your name? What is it?
m12.
He reads doornail3's confirmation for the task and waits for her to log off. That smile keeps returning to his lips. He had always liked the ones that didn't question. The ones who went with the flow until it was too late to swim away from the waterfall.
Late afternoon, when the sun should've been right above their heads but was hidden behind heavy grey clouds as snow fell on every exposed area of land, m12 received the video. The proof.
He first saves it in his private photo album to view whenever he pleased. Then he sits in his dark room, watching a slender blade press and slide into her pale skin until tiny rivulets of scarlet run down her leg. She hisses in pain in between broken sobs. Shivers of pleasure rush down his core as that grim smile explodes his cheeks.
Oscar Wilde once said sex was all about power, but what kind of power leaves you sweaty, breathless, and sore? This video was proof of real power. A testament of absolute submission.
To his words. To his authority. To him.
