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“You won’t be too mean, will you? Miss?”
They looked so delicate, head on her lap, kneeling in front of her. So breakable. She stroked their cheek, peach fuzz soft against her fingertips, holding their delicate wrists in her other hand.
“Not too mean, no. Not too nice, either. You knew what you were getting into when you took the pill.”
They whimpered, pupils dilating. It was about the right time for the ecstasy to be kicking in. Arousal, or perhaps fear, brightened their face, and flushed their cheeks. Lightly defined pecs, nipples small and tight, rose and fell under a nervous sigh.
“Are you sure… I mean. What if I have a bad reaction?”
“That would be really frightening. Are you worried about that happening tonight? How do you think I would react?” She smiled, with a hint of warmth. “Do you think I would keep going?”
They were imagining it, she could tell. Picturing it, running the possibility through their mind. The small flicks of the eyes, their forehead becoming damp with sweat. Their fingers trembled slightly in her grasp. She could only wonder what the fantasy version of herself was doing to them.
“You wouldn’t, would you, Miss? You’d stop, if I needed it?” Their voice was soft, and held a slight waver. It broke, adorably, at the ‘Miss’.
They had no reason to doubt her. They’d discussed in detail where the lines were, what she would do, when, and how. Any other day, they would have no trouble setting aside whatever slight fear they might have left, after their years together. But in this state, when the anticipation had been building, their imagination running wild… In this moment, every emotion was heightened, and the slightest anxiety could become an overwhelming terror.
With the right guidance, at least.
“My favorite part of this,” she began casually, pointedly not answering their question, “is the inevitability. Once you take that pill, there’s no going back. You will, for the next four hours, be completely at my mercy. Nothing that you can do, nothing that can change that.” Their trembling grew worse. Fingers grew cold, muscles tense. Deliberately, she began taking in shorter, tighter breaths, and they mirrored her unconsciously. “I’m sure you’ve thought about it. About the risks. Maybe, I’m just having a bad day. Maybe, I miss a sign, I misinterpret what you’re thinking, or how much you can take. But you’re in too deep. There’s no going back.”
Their heart was racing now. In anticipation, in desire, in fear. Pumping blood, faster and faster, and carrying all those lovely chemicals with it. MDMA, yes, but also endorphins and adrenaline and cortisol. All drawing them further and further from rationality, from any ability to calm down.
“I’m not… I mean. I’m not- I don’t know Miss. I trust you, I do. I- you wouldn’t do that. I know that, I promise!”
She withheld a smile at their incoherence. Stumbling over their words, whining and mumbling. Trying to reassure her , of all things. Truly adorable.
“I’ve wondered, certainly. What would happen if I just… let go. If I let my desire to fuck you up, to brutalize you, overcome my good sense. And, well, once I’ve already crossed that line, once I’ve broken your trust…. then I might as well make the best of it, right? If I’ve already gone too far, then what does it matter if I go even further?” She let herself speak slowly, hesitating and drawing out her sentences, as if she were considering these ideas all over again. Testing them, letting them linger on her tongue. “I’ve wondered about you, delusional with pain, begging me to stop. Bruised and desperate. What would it be like to fuck you, like that, when you’ve been pushed past anything you think you can take? What would it feel like, for me to stop caring about your limits, and to keep going regardless of what you wanted?”
She’d lied, earlier, when she’d said her favorite part was the inevitability. In truth, it was instead that when they were in this state, just at the tipping point when the drugs were kicking in, they couldn’t help but picture what she described to them. Their imagination would provide a thousand cruelties that she could not.
She could see it happening now, in their responses. Their breathing had become quick pants, and they tried to pull away, tugging at her hold on their wrists. Not quite trying to escape, but checking, testing. As they pictured her raping them, the trembling grew into anticipatory shakes.
“Shh, it’s okay. It’s alright darling, and besides, it’s too late for doubts now.” She paused, and tugged at their short hair. Fingers sliding through feathery locks, nails scratching across a hypersensitive scalp. They shivered, pleasure mixing deliciously with the fear. Their cock, already hot against her leg, grew stiff. Their hips rocked, barely perceptible. “It’s precisely because you trust me that you put yourself in this position, isn’t it. Why you made yourself so helpless for me. You trust me… regardless of whether or not you should.”
At that, she backhanded them, and they fell backwards off her lap onto the carpeted floor. They stared up at her, shocked and bewildered more than anything. Then she kicked them, hard, the bridge of her foot making contact with a brutal thud.
They scrambled to recover, to get to their hands and knees, scraping against the carpet in a way they would surely feel, come morning. She stood, and kicked them again, knocking them onto their back. Then, as they lay prone on the floor, gasping for breath, she ever so carefully rested the arch of her foot on their neck.
“It will happen one of these days, you know. I’ll go too far eventually. Everyone makes mistakes.'' They just looked up at her, beyond words, terror dawning on their face. “You’d best hope that this time isn’t the one.” She pressed down, just a touch. Just enough to imply. And then she grinned, and lifted her foot.
“I think it’s time for you to run.”
She laughed, and they ran. Stumbling, dizzy and confused, they ran. When they reached the door, it was locked.
The look of perfect betrayal on their face was the most beautiful thing she’d seen in her life.
They were stuck in here with her, whether they liked it or not. They’d made their choice, with the pill, and it was long past the point where they could take it back.
She reached for the cane.
*