Pain and Pleasure

Pain and Pleasure

A Story by Kia
"

A girl shows love for her boyfriend and a most unusual way.

"

Pain and Pleasure

 

My palms sweat, and a sting swims through the veins of my hands as it nears closer to seven o’clock. I begin to chew my nails, and I rock back and forth in my seat, quicker as every second passes. The pulsation of my heart mimics my consistent rocking, and I flinch with every footstep I hear passing by my apartment room. Oh, no! Not again! More footsteps emerge. Is it him this time? Please, let it be so! …Nope, just another person going about their way, testing the anxiety within me. Why am I afraid? I shouldn’t be. Maybe I’m not. Maybe I’m just anxious. After all, I’ve been waiting for this all day long. As time seems to aimlessly pass, I try focusing on something else to control the sinking feeling in my gut. …Nothing works. It’s the only thing on my mind. I just wish he would hurry up and get here. There they go again; more footsteps, but this time there’s a jiggle of the doorknob. Oh, s**t! It’s him. Okay, T’Keyah, relax! Hands, stop sweating! Heart, stop pounding! I take in a deep breath; a pointless attempt to dictate my breathing. The door opens, and he walks in, his eyelids painted in black, enhancing his vampire-like appearance, and sending an arousing sting through my spine. I smile at him, swallowing my discomfort. His lustful eyes meet mine as he smiles back at me and shuts the door. I see the knife in that delicate hand of his, and my flesh begins to chill. An alluring sound passes his lips, “ Are you ready?” It questions; raspy from the time killed by smoking.

I don’t know how this is going to be. It was my idea, and I did it to him yesterday. I shrug and say, “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Are you sure you wanna do this?”

“Yeah, it’s making me anxious.” I take off my shirt then my bra, and I ask him where he wants to do it. He tells me to lay on the floor. Timid, I get down on my knees first. Then I turn around, look at him and ask, “Is this gonna hurt?”

And with a chuckle in his response, he says, “Like s**t.”

With a deep breath I lay down all the way. It’s silent, and then I feel the heavenly touch of his hand press up against by back. My body gets heated as the adrenaline washes through me. I clinch my teeth and tighten my eyes shut preparing for the blade to come next. But nothing. As I question what is happening, I feel his breath warm my neck, and I open my eyes to see two beautiful hazel eyes staring at me, making me smile.

“Are you okay?” Says his sensuous voice.

And with an embarrassed giggle, I say, “Yeah.”

The hazel gems vanish behind the black shadowed eyelids, and a sting of desire tingles my veins as he looks back up at me with a somewhat evil, yet alluring grimace. The last that I see of him is the tattoo on his arm. Then that slips away, and the pressure of his hand returns to my back. This time, I try to hold my composer. The silence is irking, only being broken by the sound of him swallowing, and then, I feel it; the knife. It starts off cold against my skin. Then it becomes a subtle sting, and as it digs further into my skin…there it is; the burn, the blood tickling me as it streams down my side…the thrill. I clinch my teeth not knowing if this is pain or pleasure. I can feel the “T” being written in my flesh, and then the “H”, but more frightening, the “O”. I pray that he doesn’t mess up, but I must remember, the graceful hand that holds the knife, slicing the skin of my back, belongs to an artist. This artistic hand dares not fail me.

He finishes the “O”, and quickly moves on to the “M”. His concentration must be hard because he remains hushed. He’s the only mortal being that I would ever allow to inflict me in such a manner. He was right when he said it would hurt like s**t, but the s****y feeling becomes thrill when it’s done by his touch, and it’s as if I don’t want him to finish. He completes the “A” and spends a little extra time on the “S”. I suppose that’s the hardest. After he finishes up, I hear as he drops the knife to the floor. The pain still remains in my back, but it’s a pain of affection. I turn around, and see the blood drenching his hands. I imagine he will lick it off as I did his blood yesterday. His beautiful face forms a smile, and I return the grin. I’m a bit burdened that he’s finished, but he promised me he’d stay with me for the night. With my back still sore, I manage to get up and head towards the bathroom, where he will cleanse my love wound in the shower.

 

 

…Some say it’s taboo, but I don’t give a damn. I love this man enough to bleed his name, and so…I did.

© 2011 Kia


Author's Note

Kia
Please don't hesitate to review. (Please use constructive critism and not rude or mean comments)

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Reviews

I really liked the first paragraph. But, the storyline was kinda choppy, it didnt flow, and it didnt go where i thought it should go...not that surprising cannot be good. The emotion seemed to drain as the story went on. Atleast for me. I think that explaining more background before the whole carving thing would make it better. It seems more like random passages out of different parts of a novel, than one fluid short story.

But I am not expert.

I can tell that you have some good technique with descriptions, and if you wanted to make this longer and really develop the character is would work much better.

Posted 12 Years Ago



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Added on June 4, 2011
Last Updated on June 4, 2011
Tags: love, romance, romantic, blood, bleed, knife, cutting, dark

Author

Kia
Kia

About
I've been writing poems for a very long time, most of my life, but anything that I write or have ever written has come purely from my heart. I've never written a poem just for the sake of writing a po.. more..

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