The Cleaner's Daughter and The Assassin's Son

Pain to feel

Song: End of the dream by Evenesence

Mekhi POV:

I have watched the way she works a lot over the years but this was one by far one of the worse cases. I know she wants revenge and she made sure she got it. I guess she had to let the beast out, lashing out on him. I don't blame her though the guy killed her dad. I would hate to know what she would do if someone ever shot me or even attempt to kill me. I don't even want to think about it.

I stand back and watch the guy's reaction, no one says a damn word in the whole room and I mean no one makes a sound or even moves an inch while she tortures him.

In the end we all help her clean up the mess, blood splashed and dripped everywhere. She is even covered in blood.

I wait for her to finish and then take her home. All the way there, I can tell by the way she sits and looks out the window that her mind is not there. She is out there somewhere still full of hatred.

I take a shower with her and help her get all the blood off of her skin and out of her hair. She is still miles away and I can't help but think what the hell is she thinking.

"Babe are you alright; what can I do?"

She looks at me but past me, that stare like no one is home. I tilt my head and look into her eyes. "Scarlett, what do you need, tell me?"

"I need to feel...I need to feel pain."

I know what she wants but I don't think she really wants this right now, not tonight.

"Do you want me to take you to bed?"

She shakes her head no. "You know what I want; please punish me for what I have done."

"Why?"

"Please...just do it. I couldn't save him. The man raised me...he taught me everything. I couldn't save him. I pushed him under the water. I know I killed that bastard but it's not enough. I want to scream...I want to cry...I need it. Please don't make me ask you again." Her eyes are watered and bloodshot.

I take her by the hand and take her to our private room. We had one put in her house a few years ago when we got rid of the apartment. She lets me strap her down against the cold marble table. I have all access to her.

"How many do you want?"

"Just do it; do it till I say stop."

I choose the whip of my choice and walk back over to her. I throw my arm back and the whip comes across her sweet ass reddening the skin on contact. The next one goes across her back. I have given her ten lashes and she wants more.

"Scarlett that's enough." I tell her.

"No- I want more; harder please." She begs softly.

I don't want to but I do it because she requested for it. Ten more lashes, harder than before. I see red coming to the surface of her skin, blood. Shit I don't want to hurt her and the thing is she doesn't even scream out.

"Scarlett that's enough!"

"No- don't stop." She begs louder.

I do one more and I let it out so hard that it goes so deep into her flesh and she cries out. I stand between her legs on her backside and I know she is ready for me. I force myself in her and pound as hard and fast as possible letting her cry out. She is moaning more than crying; she loves this pain, this pleasure. She never uses a safe word.

I unstrapped her ankles and then her arms and she lies there so still. I pick her up in my arms and carry her over to the bed. She still looks like she is in a daze so I cover her up with the silk sheet. I snuggle up beside her, putting her by my side and letting her head rest on my chest. I stroke her head until she is fast asleep.

Scarlett POV:

We get home and it's creepy quite. I just want to hear him call out my name. I want to hear his voice even if it's to yell at me or even punish me. I know it's fucked up but I miss him that much.

I make my way upstairs and into the bathroom. I don't even really notice Mekhi in the shower until he starts washing my sticky skin that is covered now in dried blood. His hands surround me and then move into my hair, washing away all traces of the bastard who killed my father.

I see his lips move but I don't comprehend what he is saying. I have to blink and make myself focus on his words.

"Scarlett what do you need, tell me?"

I barely get the words out, "I need to feel...I need to feel pain."

"Do you want me to take you to bed?" he asks.

To bed...hell no, no it's not what I want. I mean it is but it's not all I need. I want to cry. I want to hate and feel bad and just feel in general. All my senses are like ice...frozen. I can't think. I can't remember. I can't feel.

I shake my head at him and I feel like my body is there in the room but my mind is somewhere in the universe like I'm in a trance. "You know what I want..please punish me."

"Why?"

He really has to ask that question. Seriously. "Please just do it. I couldn't save him..." I ramble on about other shit but I'm not thinking right or clear for that matter all I want is to feel the whip. I need it.

He guides me to the room, our private room.

I bend over onto the cold marble table. I love the way it feels against my skin, cooling me off. I hear him from behind me. "How many do you want?"

"Just do it...do it till I say stop."

The whip stings slightly against my ass, almost like a bee sting. I barely feel the whip against my skin; makes me wonder if he is even really trying.

I hear him say something. Something about no more but I hear myself beg for him not to stop. "No.. I want more; harder please."

He hesitates for a moment. I don't think he is going to do it but then the sting whips right through me. He goes harder with each lick. I don't bother counting. I don't even notice the tears that stream down my face.

His voice comes out harsh, "Scarlett that's enough."

"No- Don't stop!" I whimper out. I need to hurt. I want this more than anything right now.

This time he comes right across my back hitting the stitches from the gunshot wound. The pain is surreal it takes my breath away and everything in me releases out as I scream.

Then I feel him inside of me, so hard and rough like never before. I'm fucked up. I know I am. I need this so bad and I beg him not to stop. I want him to make me hurt, make me feel. I should have used my safe word. My side is hurting so bad, it feels like ever stitch has broke loose and the muscles inside of me comes apart. Pain radiates through my body. The more he grabs and thrust inside of me the more the pain comes. My nerves are on high alert. I should be using my safe word. I should but I won't.

I don't know when he stops. I don't recall him unstrapping my ankles or my wrist. I can't even freaking remember him carrying me to bed. However when I wake up, my body is beyond sore and I can't even make it out of bed.