Truth AND Consequences

I try to nod, and he releases my hair to let me do so.

He moves to the right side of the piano bench and holds up my right breast. "I want some more screaming," he says, and he doesn't sound conflicted anymore.

He brings his fist down on my breast and gets the scream he'd asked for. Another blow, another scream. Suddenly he starts punching his fist into my breast with enormous force, very fast, and I scream so hard and so long that I have trouble breathing. He pauses for a moment to allow me to catch up on air, then resumes, again punching my breast with great force and speed, producing a pain that I can't fight, and so I don't.

I realize then that I've been fighting the pain, and instead I surrender to it and accept it, and in surrendering to it, I also surrender to him. I'm still screaming bloody murder, but I'm no longer tense about it; it's just the natural reaction to that much pain.

He stops and looks at me. "For how long should I hit you?"

My new-found surrender makes this the honest answer: "Until you wish to stop."

"I want to hit you ten more times. Ask me to hit you ten more times."

It doesn't occur to me to say anything other than, "Please, Stewart, hit me ten more times."

He hits me again and again, just as hard as before, with just as much screaming, and yet there is a peace in my soul. It is only my job to sit here and to scream. I don't need to wonder about anything, think about anything, decide anything. He will do all of that; all I need to do is scream until he no longer wishes to hear me scream, and that seems so simple, so ... dare I say "pure"? I even feel slightly proud, that I can hurt this much to make my Stewart happy, and I scream almost happily, glad to be useful, glad that he is using me to get something he needs.

After he finishes those ten blows, he examines my face closely. My face and eyes are red, my nose is running, my mouth is dry and my voice hoarse from screaming, yet I can sense a certain serenity on my face, and I know that he sees it, because he helps me off of the piano bench and lowers me to a kneeling position on the floor. He stands in front of me while I kneel and puts a hand on each side of my face, tenderly. "I see that you've achieved your safeword, and I've had all I want for the moment. Welcome to Scotland, Katie girl."

[I'll write Part Three if anybody likes the first two parts.]