Are You Going to Hurt Me?

**Prompt Response: Are you going to hurt me?**  [Warning: Dark, kidnapping, violent intentions]

My eyes darted all around the dark chamber, only picking up on the few angles the dying light would allow. I knew I was in the basement; like all basements, there was a very small rectangular window to my left that was obviously the level of the ground. The drugs may do many things, but they can't take away the obvious. The table felt cold and my hands clammy. My breaths came out shallow and shaky. The intensity and confusion that laced the air was unmistakable. *What does he want? Why did he pick me? Where is he going to take me?* I had asked myself these questions several times a week for what seemed like an eternity now; in truth, it had only been about 4 months since I was first brought down here to the basement.

I hear the familiar tap of his shoes down the stairs nearing me with every passing moment. I close my eyes and remember the very first time he descended those stairs with me in tow as if it were yesterday. When his hand gently gripped my shoulder, the hair on the back of my neck stood up followed by a familiar warmth in my belly. I take a deep breath, smelling the spice of his cologne. He was right. I'd never understand it, would never be able to isolate why I was so accepting of these sessions or why I melted into the experiences so naturally; I only knew that I took some pleasure in it, *every time*.  I heard his trousers unzip and turned to look over my shoulder at him. He nuzzled my nose with his own, his husky whisper of 'darling' showering my lips, and began to stroke himself in his hand. He was eager today, ready to begin without preamble.

"Are... are you going to hurt me?"  I raised my brow and looked down at the table in front of me, my fingers flexing on the frigid slate. The woman was in her early 20s, her skin the color of honeyed cream and her eyes red from tears, clearly she was frightened. I grinned a smile most maniacal and as I felt the power course through my veins like a vengeful goddess might. I picked up the ceremonial dagger while his lips teased the flesh of my neck and he gave a small groan of arousal.  I would never know why I was on this end of the knife, an extension of his desires and my own internal darkness. He had once said I was simply foreordained to such. This was my new *home*. And I *relished* in it. I gave a small sympathetic look to the woman though placating her fear,but then said "Of course, darling."