My Little Flower

Chapter Six; View From a Different Angle

(January, 11th Wednesday, 2017, 8:00PM)

Dark's POV:

I loved seeing her in pain. The way she bruised was beautiful. It was like black, purple, and blue art on her skin. I have her face memorized  in my head. The outline of her pouting lips, those eyes that beg to be made teary, every tiny crease and curvature that made up her innocent looking mug. Her figure was something no other women had, soft curves that were nothing but flawed perfections to the naked eye. The lovely  hands that she had were my most favorite feature she possessed, the way she would hide behind them in fear. Her fear is what made me gawk over  her.

The pupils get immensely larger to let more light into your eye so your brain can process information quicker when something seems  threatening or frightens you, you wouldn't imagine how big hers were when she would focus on me. Her deep sockets showed off her (E/C) eyes in the most beautiful way, but also made the wrinkles under her tear ducks more prominent, the stresses of life having taken a toll on her.  Hurricane eyes, showing how tired life had made her.

Behind those troubled eyes I saw something more. Secrets coiled far behind the bone structure of her face. Her body was made up of  experience, adapting to what would come to her sooner or later. I knew her fears, nightmare she would call them. Advantage is what I referred  to them as. Knowing she was so young made me thirst for her more, nothing that would be easily quenched. She metaphorically was like sangria, tastes like a finely aged red wine, but twice as intoxicating and has more then one use. Bottles of her wouldn't fix my fucked up addiction and I craved it. I loathed it.

I laid on the bed beside her. She had passed out after another session of training, it had  been about a day and a half from the first one and she actually has  been responding quite nicely in my opinion. The normal things that came  with it of course, the whimpering, crying, moaning and groaning. I loved  hearing all of it. Her begging was something to be admired. It made me feel satisfied knowing that she had had enough of what I was doing and pushing her over the limit was even better. But watching her be still without trying to squirm was pure ecstasy for my cold eyes. Over and over again examining her facial features even though they were imprinted into my medial temporal lobe, I loved to watch her emotions.

"I know everything about you, pet.." I whispered softly and ran my fingers over her cheek as she drooled onto the pillow, the poor thing being exhausted. "I couldn't even imagine being abused like you... that tough hid takes it so well.." My crop whip had touched her rear many times in the past twenty four hours. Some of it was unneeded but frankly, I enjoyed ruling over her. Empowering was an understatement, I needed control. In all truth she had so far been the most fun out of the women I have collected, but if it was an coloration I didn't intend on freezer burning her like the others.

I heard a soft whimper come from her and I sighed not wanting her to wake, peaceful as she may be when she is unconscious, something merely as much as an eye roll and I'd want to beat her more then I had the time before. Her ignorance disgusted me, youth comes along with that though I suppose. She groaned softly and whimpered louder. I slowly got up and left the room quietly, not wanting to leave evidence that I was any where near her.

I crept to the living room and sat down on the couch, making myself comfortable. She eventually walked out to the living room, naked of course as we had had a conversation and this was her punishment for defying me. Gorgeous. Her hips swayed softly as she stutter stepped towards me from her lack of enough sleep. "May I have some breakfast?" She asked yawning. "Someones a bit on the brave side today." I replied smirking. "Mhm... So I assume you've learned your lesson?" I asked standing and she got timid and nodded softly. "Good little flower..." I purred and sighed, starting to make her some toast. I never did mind being nice when I was in the mood for it. She seemed to be even more scared of me when I was nice, I assume because it was a bit out of the norm from her experience with me so far. I'm not a fair man, neither am I an easily forgiving man, just ask the bodies in my freezer down the hall. But I was a bit more calm when I was treated with respect and people feared me. Fear was what I was best at in my opinion. It was so simple to make her blush, cry or make her happy even, just tiny tweaks to be made to my emotions and exterior presents and I could control what I needed to for that most part.