Audio Story: Ruins of Pain.

As yet unscarred. Mostly. Unbroken. Mostly. His fingers in my heart and his breath on my soul. Me living, six feet under the ground and me dying, six feet above it. 

I'm going to hurt you so much, he said. 

Yes, please. 

The afternoon sinking into darkness. Maybe the night is real. More likely imagined. His fingers around my throat. A lifetime, gone, without noticing how naked I felt there, until he draped me. 

His fists disappearing into my skin. His palm thrashing against my face. My mind, it wanders. For the one moment. Just long enough to catch a glimpse of us. 

Him, pretending he doesn't know me at all so he can punch me through my tears. Me, pretending I know him so well that I can trust him to not break anything. 

My mind, it questions. Just in one flash of consciousness before it obliterates to glittery black again. My mind, fades away, into its own echo. 

*This* is what you need? 

I'm not sure which one of us I am asking. 

.....

I'm older. I'm not wiser. I may seem wiser but I'm not. I got really good at seeming wise. Means to an end. I got good at getting what I want. 

This boy, he loves me. I love him too. I love the leather he caresses me with more. The leather, it makes promises it can keep. The boy, he doesn't know his promises are empty. 

Tell me to stop when it's too much, he said. 

I wasn't going to stop him. 

He didn't know that. 

I got really good at getting what I wanted. 

.....

Too much, I said to myself. 

Fear fades into an ugly side of being human when it doesn't go away. 

I feel light-headed. My mouth is dry. It tastes powerfully metallic; my haemoglobin has always been high.

There's silence. Inside me. I wonder if that's all I'm really looking for. 

How much does it hurt, he asked. 

Not much at all anymore. 

The pain is finally gone. 

I'm not sure I am there but I feel heat in my body. I'm just not sure I am inside it. I feel heat. Throbbing in my lip. Stinging in my thighs. Dull ache in my sides. Weight on top of me. Warm weight.

So strange when you have no resistance, he said. 

Him, stabbing at my insides. Me, already dead inside. 

If you stab a dead horse is it still an act of torture? 

.....

There's screaming. There's always screaming. 

Shaking. 

Crying. 

Attacking. 

Dancing. 

Dancing. That's what we do. Violent dancing devoid of grace. Choreographed to spits and grunts and songs of malice. 

I will kill you, he said. 

I'm already dead. 

His fingers coil around my arm. Cold. Too cold. I'm warm. Not as dead as I'd like to be. Not so dead I can't still feel terror. Not so dead I can't be drowned in a sea of pain and made to forget everything I must not forget. 

Words hurt more than fists. 

Accusations sting. 

Like the bunched up wires he thrashes against my skin. I'm alive again. He tells me he'll kill me but he brings me back to life. I see colours again. They're all red. And taste like tears. 

Let go, said a voice on the inside. 

Of what? 

.....

Strained shoulders. Arms behind my back. Pulling. 

Like his fingers inside me. Pulling at me. Searching really hard for nothing. Clawing at walls that offer no support. Reaching into everything that's hidden away. 

So easy to hurt your cunt, he said. 

Easy. So easy. It's like being made up of instructions in every language. 

Like a trusting soul. 

Between my legs. 

Must suck to be so broken, he said. 

I'm not broken. 

His fingers slip past all resistance. Screaming doesn't stop him. I don't try to shut my legs. I feel myself stretching out into someone I'm not. I feel myself ripping against his force. 

Let's break you then, he said. 

.....

Hit me, I said. 

Heat on my cheek. Nervous. At first. Warmer. Warmer. Harder. Harder. 

My head is swinging. Or maybe it's my mind. I don't really know him. Or what I am doing here. He doesn't really know me but this is what he came for. 

Harder, I said. 

Searching for silence. To taste the metal and smell the tears. My face swelling. Slipping into the delusions I feed myself to survive. 

Harder. 

So close. 

To silence. 

You're so hot, he said. 

I put his cock in my mouth. That's what he really came for. 

.....

His fingers like promises on my skin. Dancing around. Enticing. Calling out. 

Screaming. 

Why am I not screaming? 

Hurt me, I beg. 

Not just yet, he said. 

Waiting. Impatiently. Quietly. His fingers trailing stories around my skin. Grazing over a worn canvas. A plundered land. Probing into the faults and pausing at every site of destruction. 

Hurt me. 

You will wait, he said. 

Nothing ever hurt quite like yearning. 

.....

I'm on the floor. He's so tall he feels like a giant. I'm all here. It's all here on the floor with me. 

I'm going to hurt you so much, he said. 

Yes, please. 

Hurt me. Hurt all of us. 

The scarred. 

The wounded. 

The dead. 

Wearing every word that tore me apart. 

Making every sound that made me tremor. And sigh. 

They're all here. Lying beside me. Inside me. Quietly humming a cacophony of stories. Beneath him. Beneath his boot. 

I feel heat. In my fingers. On my arm. On my face. I feel warm where he crushes me. Parts of me light up. 

One hand. 

One cheek. 

One foot. 

My soul. 

I'm alive where it hurts. 

When it hurts.  

..... 

Note: This is a repost of something I wrote 4-years ago, I am testing audio versions of my erotica/erotic poetry. Let me know what you think.