by Sienna Parks
It’s a few minutes before she replies. “I feel like everything is boiling up inside of me all the time, and it’s so overwhelming, and so painful. I have no way to let it out. But, there’s something about that moment when I scratch into my skin; it’s like releasing a valve. The pressure I feel inside dissipates, if only for a little while. I can switch it all off. Focus on that small patch of skin, that small, but intense amount of pain. Excruciating, but euphoric. It’s not the same as the pain of a punishment. I control it. But, the elation is short-lived. Within minutes, I look at the mark that’s left behind, reminding me of my weakness, and it’s like an anvil slamming back down onto my chest. Does that make any sense?”
I’ve been holding my breath. Listening so intently to every word that she chooses to share with me.
“I don’t know what to do with it, Logan. With all the pain, all the emotion, and all the grief.” She starts sobbing uncontrollably, and all I can do is hold her. I feel so impotent.
“Shhh. It’s going to be okay. I’m here. I’m going to help you. We’ll figure it out… together.”
She cries herself to sleep in my arms, whispering words of how dancing was her life, her soul, her everything. I lie with her for hours, cradling her, watching the rise and fall of her chest, trying to figure out a way to help her.
I stare at her leg, the lines of dried blood ripping into my soul. It kills me to see how much she’s hurting; to hear how she sees herself. I wish I could let her see herself through my eyes, even for a moment. She’d know how amazing she is, how loved and cherished she is; how her smile makes my pulse race, even when I’ve been keeping her at arm’s length.
I slowly extricate myself from her embrace, careful not to wake her, going in search of my first aid kit. I’m sure there’s one in here somewhere. When I find what I need, I quietly make my way back to our room, and cautiously tend to her wounds. She moves around a little when I put some antiseptic cream over the cuts, but she doesn’t wake. I place a small gauze pad over all three marks and tape it in place, before grabbing a blanket from the closet and covering her to let her rest.
That’s when I realize… I know what I have to do.
“Logan? Where are you?”
I look at my watch. She’s been asleep for almost four hours, and I’ve been in here most of that time, preparing. I quickly finish up and head out to find her. She sees me closing the door to my playroom.
“Hey. How are you feeling?”
She looks sheepish. Her hand moving over the small bandage on her leg. “I’m feeling a little better. Thank you for taking care of me. I know it’s not easy.”
I can’t stand not being able to touch her, so I close the distance between us, wrapping my arms around her small frame. “It’s my job to take care of you. Loving you is as effortless as breathing.” I kiss the top of her head. “Do you trust me?”
She holds me tighter. “Yes.”
“Then come with me.” I lead her back to the playroom, opening the door to let her see what I’ve been doing.
The room is empty.
She turns, confusion etched on her flawless features. “What? Why? Don’t you want to be my Master anymore?”
“No, no, no, baby. You’ve got it all wrong. I will always be your Master, and the playroom will be returned to its former glory. But, I need you to do something for me first, and that required the room to be cleared, and the mirrors to be rearranged along the back wall.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m going to ask you again. Do you trust me?”
“Yes, Master Fitzgerald.”
“Strip down to your underwear.” Without hesitation, she removes her clothes leaving only a black lace bra and matching panties. “I want you to dance for me.” I take the remote from my pocket and start the music. Love Runs Out by OneRepublic starts blaring through the speakers.
Vittoria drops to the floor, covering her ears.
“Make it stop. No. I can’t do this. You know I can’t dance anymore. Why would you do this to me?”
I stand over her. “Stand up, Nyx. NOW!”
“NO! You can’t make me.”
“You will stand up now, and obey me. I am your Master, and if you don’t do as I say, I will punish you. I will not tolerate an insubordinate submissive any longer. It stops now. I know what you need. You need to respect me, and if you can’t do that, then go. I don’t want you here.”
Her eyes fly up to meet my gaze.
“You don’t mean it.”
I want to tell her that I could never leave her; that she’s a part of me, but I don’t.
“Try me.”
She covers her mouth with her hand, holding in the sob that I know is fighting to get out.
“STAND UP NOW! You dance, or you leave this room and don’t return. Your decision.”
“I can’t dance.” She stands up, her head lowered in defeat.
“You can’t be a ballerina anymore. You can’t push your body to dance professionally, but you can still dance, you can still feel the music, and let it flow through you.”
“I don’t think I can do it.”
“I’m telling you that you can. You need this. Let go. Take all of your hurt, pain, anger, and frustration, and let it out. Let the music in, and dance through the rage you’re feeling. If you keep it inside, it will destroy you. You need to find yourself again.”
I watch the tears as they fall silently down her cheeks, and my heart aches for her, but I need to push; she needs to do this.
“Dance or leave. What’s it going to be?”
“I… I…”
She steps into me, punching me in the chest, slapping me, her breathing labored as she struggles to come to terms with what I’m asking of her. I just stand and take it, knowing that this is going to push her to face her feelings.
I put the song back to the beginning and turn up the volume until it consumes all of the air in the room; vibrating through our bodies; there is no escape.
“Feel, Nyx. Anything. Let yourself feel it.”
She pushes me away and walks to the center of the room, dropping her head back, staring up at the ceiling.
I can see the moment that it happens.
The moment that she lets it take over. Her entire demeanor changes; it’s thrilling and chilling to watch. The transformation is unmistakable.
She begins to run her hands over her skin, her body starting to move. Her long black hair swaying as the music takes over. I can see the anger emanating from every pore. Her movements are sharp, filled with frustration; her hands fisting in her hair as she thrashes her head in time with the beat.
Her feet start to move, gliding around the room with practiced elegance, and a freedom I have never seen from her. This isn’t just ballet, this is a hybrid form of dance. The emotion that she expresses is so raw and real and awe-inspiring. I stand frozen to the spot, transfixed by the beauty before me, around me.
I can see that she is no longer aware of her surroundings, she’s completely gone, lost to the rhythm, lost in the dance. It is unlike anything I’ve ever seen her do. She is so aggressive, pouring everything she has into this one song, this one dance.
It’s amazing.
She’s stunning.
I am in awe of her strength, her talent, her beauty, and her ability to speak to me through every move of her body.
She covers every inch of the floor, her legs carrying her to another plane.
She is fucking transcendent. She is my Nyx.
I can see the woman that I fell in love with. My Vittoria. She’s right there, she’s come back to me, and I have never wanted her more than I do in this moment.
When the song ends, she drops to the floor, breathing hard, her body glistening with a sheen of sweat.
I immediately go to her, unable to contain the desire coiling inside of me, coursing through my veins. I want her. I need her, and I can’t wait any longer.
I lower my body down on top of hers, pulling her up by the back o
f her neck, our lips and tongues colliding in a frenzied fuck. I’m starved for the taste of her, and my hunger can’t be sated. I can’t get enough. She bites down hard on my bottom lip; a sharp pain and the familiar metallic taste of blood on my tongue. I take it and continue to give her everything I have, taking what I need in return.
She starts clawing at my back, pulling my T-shirt up and over my head, breaking our kiss just long enough to get it off and out of the way. I unclasp her bra and rip it off her, exposing her perfect breasts, and tight budded nipples. I take one and then the other into my mouth. Nibbling, sucking, and flicking each one in turn, cupping the other with my hand. She feels so fucking amazing, and she tastes even better.
I kiss my way down her body, savoring every inch, every freckle, every line and curve. I want to take it slow, but I need her so badly, I can’t hold back. I grasp the sides of her panties and rip; tearing them from her body. I bury my face in her pussy, licking and sucking her with a fierce intensity. Rough and hard, but with all the tenderness I can give. She’s dripping with desire, and I lap up every last drop. It doesn’t take her long to crash over the edge into a screaming orgasm, thrusting her hips, forcing me to take more of her. My name on her lips as she loses herself to the myriad of sensations, is so fucking sexy. My dick is straining against the denim of my jeans, making it almost painful, but I need to hear her come, over and over again, until her body is limp and sated.
I flip her onto her front, lifting her ass in the air, forcing her to spread her legs wide for me. I continue to lick and suck, pulling her tight against my face as I kneel behind her, thrusting my fingers inside of her, delighting in the moans of pleasure she can’t contain. I’m harder than steel, and her final cries of ecstasy are my undoing.
I stand, gently pulling her up with me.
“Take off my pants.” She rips open the button-fly of my jeans, tugging the waistband down, together with my boxers, licking her lips, her eyes focused on my erection. “Do you want it? Tell me how badly you want to feel me inside you.”
Her eyes lift to meet mine as she speaks. “It’s a physical ache. I miss how you feel as you thrust every… hard… inch…” Her hand travels up my thigh and fists around the base of my cock. “I miss the feeling of your warm come spilling inside of me.” She kneels before me, and I feel like I’m about to shoot my load at the sight of her, naked, willing, and sexy as hell. “I miss the taste of you on my tongue.” She darts it out and licks a drop of pre-come from the head, before taking me fully into her mouth - warm and wet surrounding me. It’s fucking amazing.
“Fuck! Vittoria… I’ve missed this. You look so stunning on your knees.” I take a moment to look across at the mirror, the sight of her with my cock in her mouth, her head moving back and forth, her breasts bouncing with every thrust. It’s so fucking hot.
I’d love to let her continue, but I need to be inside her… now.
I take a step back; the loss of her mouth leaving me momentarily bereft. I grab her by the ass and pull her up and into my arms. My lips crash down on hers, our juices mingle as our tongues tangle and twist in an all-consuming dance of desire. I stride across the room with her small frame wrapped around me, pressing her back against the wall. I quickly position myself, and drive my cock into her, in one sharp, hard thrust.
It’s a cataclysmic event. Not only a physical connection, but the deepest emotional connection we have ever shared. I hold her gaze for just a second, so many unspoken words passing between us before I devour her mouth, fucking it, as I hammer into her. She’s screaming my name, begging me for more, harder, faster.
I press into her, my hands against the wall on either side of her head as I continue to fuck her, hard, making love to her with all that I have; all that I am.
“Come with me, Vittoria. I want to hear how much you love me.”
She lets go, her walls tightening around me, forcing me to give in to my own release. It’s intense and so fucking good to finally let myself reclaim her. I love the sound of her voice, hoarse from screaming as she pants and moans, telling me how I make her feel. It pushes me over the edge as I pound into her, feeling each hot spurt of come fill her.
“Fuck… Vittoria… You’re mine. You’ll always be mine. Say it. I need to hear you say it.”
“I’m yours… Logan. I’ll always be yours.”
I ride out the aftershocks of my release, kissing and nibbling her lips, letting her do the same.
Music is still blaring through the speakers as I lower myself to the floor, her limbs wrapped around me, our bodies still joined in the most intimate of ways. We stay like this for a while before either one of us speaks.
“Vittoria. Please don’t hurt yourself. I can’t bear to see you treating your body that way.”
“I’m sorry. I just felt so lost and alone.”
“I know, baby. I wish you had been able to come and talk to me about it. I thought I was doing the right thing after Budapest, not pushing you too much, and then Liam happened…”
“I can never apologize enough for what I did. I promise I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you.”
I smooth her hair with my hands. “Stop apologizing. We’ve talked about it. I forgive you. I know that I’ve struggled to come to terms with it, but most of that has been because I felt like I was losing you. You haven’t seemed like my Vittoria for such a long time. I should have listened to what you wanted from me. It’s just… I didn’t want to hurt you, especially when you felt you deserved to be so harshly punished. BDSM has always been about pleasure for us. The thought of hurting you in any real way, is abhorrent to me.”
“Logan, you don’t have to justify yourself. You were right. I see that now. I should have trusted you, as my Master, and as my best friend. I thought I knew better, and I made it worse. I felt like I had lost everything that ever meant anything to me. You forcing me to dance tonight… I felt like myself again for those few short minutes. I still have a lot to work through, but you were right, I need ballet in my life, maybe not as a career, but in some way. I love it too much, it’s a huge part of who I am, and how I manage everything else in my life. There has been a huge, gaping hole in my life, and tonight, for the first time is a long time, it feels… smaller.”
“Have you ever spoken to anyone about what happened with Marcus?”
“I did in the beginning, but it was too hard to keep going over and over that day. I shut it out and threw myself into ballet. I guess it all came crashing back into my life when I had to quit.”
“Please tell me that you know, none of that was your fault, there was nothing you could have done.”
“I know… on a good day, when I’m rational, I know that it was him, not me that was bad. But, on the bad days, I just hate myself, and I don’t know how to fix it. I thought I could fix it with pain, but it’s a fleeting moment of relief and then it all comes flooding back.”
“You need to talk to someone. You can’t keep feeling like this. It breaks my heart. You are the most amazing woman, intelligent, beautiful, loving, and talented in so many ways. You have to learn to love yourself.”
“Will you help me?”
I tighten my embrace. “Of course. I am here for whatever you need. If you want me to find someone for you to talk to, then I will. I will do anything and everything I can to make you believe just how precious you are to me.”
She nestles her head against my chest. “Thank you. I don’t deserve you. You’re an amazing man.”
I lift her chin, looking down into her stunning, troubled eyes. “You do deserve me. You deserve whatever you desire in life. I. Am. Yours. For as long as you want me.” I dip my head down and capture her lips in a soft kiss.
I feel myself hardening inside of her, and she responds, gently swiveling her hips on my lap, taking the lead as we make love; slow, sensual, and spiritual. It’s late by the time I carry her out of the playroom. She’s asleep by the time I lay her down on the bed and pull the covers over her. I lie beside he
r, awake for hours, just staring at her in peaceful slumber, more in love with her than I ever dreamed possible. She’s been through so much, and yet she still shows strength in her weakest moments, love in her darkest hours, and trust in me, when I’ve failed her more times than I could ever forgive myself for.
Five Months Later
I never thought I would say this, but I really am the luckiest guy on the planet. I have the girl of my dreams, a job that I love, good friends, and a future ahead of me that I never thought possible. Flaming Embers are topping the charts, taking America by storm; Carter and I are talking, after months of fighting, and misunderstandings. In the end, it wasn’t me, but Vittoria, who bridged the gap, and explained our lifestyle to him in a way that he could understand and accept. She’s a force to be reckoned with when she puts her mind to it, and when she decided that she’d had enough of his bullshit and ignorance, she let him know it! I am so goddamn proud of her.
Looking back now, I don’t know why I didn’t figure it out sooner. Maybe the timing had to be right, but the moment it all fell into place, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
Dance.
Dancing saved the love of my life, so many years ago, long before I knew her. Then, when I finally found her, dancing broke her. The logical conclusion should always have been that dance would bring her back to me. And it did.
In the months following our breakthrough in the playroom, our relationship has gone from strength to strength. I’m not going to lie and say it was all moonlight and roses, whips and nipple clamps. That night was a new beginning for us, but we still had to fight, every single day, for what we have, and it was and is totally worth it.
Vittoria has been clean for nine months, which is an amazing milestone for her. She started seeing a therapist, and has finally let herself feel all of the pain and sadness in her life, grieving the loss of her childhood innocence, the loss of ballet, and her attempt to kill herself. It’s been rough on her, but together, we’re working through it. After every session with her therapist, we sit down to dinner and discuss what she was talking about; sometimes there are tears, but mostly these days, there is joy. Joy in rediscovering who she is, what she loves, and where she’s heading.
