Her Lover's Games

by Tasha


            'You were with him again.'

            She was silent for a moment. Then: 'Yes.'

            Adam lowered his head, sick with worry. Tears stung his
eyes as he wondered what new marks he would find this time. But marked
or not, at least she was home.

            'It was the last time,' Lara said.

            'You've been gone all night.' His voice was hoarse. Was this
another game, another attempt to provoke violence? He looked at her,
afraid of what he would see in her face. Deceit? Cruelty? Triumph?

But there was nothing like that. Her eyes were locked on his, unblinking.
Haunted. 'I went there to end it,' she said.

Adam thought of the long scar on her back from one of her lover's games.
The vicious bruise on her thigh that had lasted for weeks. Cuts and
burns. The marks horrified him, but Lara insisted it was what she
wanted, what she needed.

            Swallowing his tears, he made himself ask, 'You'll never see
him again?'

            She made a noise that could have been a laugh. 'It's over,'
she said, and something in her tone unsettled him.

            Adam felt behind him for the chair. Found it and sank into
it, the weight of Lara's infidelity no lighter for her promise that it
was over. All Adam wanted was a naughty little girl he could spank and
comfort afterwards. He loved Lara desperately and wanted to protect her.
But she wouldn't let him. He couldn't rid himself of the memory of those
marks. They weren't the imprints of a lover's hand. They had nothing to
do with love.

            Her legs swam into focus before him and he realised how
filthy she was. Her shoes were caked with mud and grass. Her dress was
torn. There were leaves in her hair. Scratches on her face. Clearly
there had been a fight.

            Lara had always courted abuse and she'd mistaken Adam for
one who would provide it. But he was only interested in punishment and
play. She wanted much more. But he wouldn't do those things. He
couldn't. So she had found someone who would. Someone unstable enough to
play the dangerous games she craved. Someone Adam feared would kill her
one day.

            He looked at her again and this time he saw the blood. On
her dress. On her arm. There was dirt caked under her fingernails. And
he understood. A sour taste filled his throat as the realisation sank
in.

            'I've been a bad girl,' she said, her voice a tremulous
mockery of the words he'd longed to hear her say. 'I did a very bad
thing.' She tried to smile, but the attempt was grotesque.

            Adam rose slowly to his feet, backing away from her.

            She stared at him. Through him. 'A very bad thing,' she
whispered.



© 2004 SSC by Tasha