Loviisa Harinen

"I will Forgive you,  I Loved you always. Why do you hate me?"

You rub at the now bruised area of skin on your thigh softly, running the back of our nails gently over it. You deserve this, you disobeyed orders. You knew this would happen if you didn't do as told. You lay on your back, necked prompted up by your large arrangement of pillows at the head of your bed.  You have far too many marks from him this time to even go out anywhere, people would see and wander what was wrong, nothing of course though. Nothing is wrong at all.

You prod at the tender love marks he left on your collar bone and breast, you don't usually put any clothes on after he leaves, you just lay there, that's what he tells you to do, rest. You don't feel like resting, so you're just going to pretend to rest, he gets angry when you lie to him, so you're going to make the extra effort to assure he doesn't find out.

"Do I own your body or your mind. Beg for me."
Your body aches, he was rougher than usual, you don't mind it, you actually like it rough. It's your fault you're in pain, you didn't tell him he was going to hard. It's your fault you can barely get up never the less walk. You sometimes feel like he doesn't love you at all, then mentally smack yourself for thinking so, absurdly , of course he loves you, everything he does is because he loves you. You need to stop thinking like that. Maybe stop thinking altogether.