An agreement

Puppy tags

A soft spectral hand cradled her small face. "You know what I mean, Darling." He said, his expression softening, his grip tightening around her drained pretty face. He pushed her into into the wood, the fingers of his other hand fingering where splintered wood meets cold steel of the blade he plunged into the table. "My love, meine Leibling.. You. Are. Mine. I can punish you every dinner, but I don't think you'll remember the marks I leave inside you. I think it's time for the puppy to get it's tags. So no matter who you fuck, no matter who sees that beautiful form. They know.. Oh and they will know. Who your master is. Who your god is."

With a swift motion, he pulled the blade from the table the metal flashing in what little light the room had. His weight pressing her into the table. "Now if you're a good puppy, I won't.. 'accidentally' cut your shriveled heart from your chest." He smiled a small sincere smile. "Now be a good bitch, and stay."

When he placed his hand gently on her face she made a stiff and painful effort of flip her aching body around to lay on her back, it saved her poor neck from being potentially snapped on one of his manic whims if she simply faced him directly. She let out a strained and breathy gasp of pain and arched her back to try and lessen the surface area of where the table was making contact with the fresh lashes on her skin, blood inevitably sticking to the wood from where the metal buckle broke her flesh.
Instinctively, seeking comfort from anything for the pain she once again placed her hand over his that was gripping her face, her red-stained lips forming a pout as he gripped her face harder and pushed her back again into the unforgiving wooden surface. Her hand tightened around his as if to plead silently as he ripped the knife from the table, her big doll-like eyes stricken with fear. She knew how fast her body healed and it honestly scared her to know that him slicing his claim into her would now be a frequent monthly, if not weekly, occurrence because as much as she liked to think she called the shots on their get togethers she knew deep down that he could do whatever he pleased and ignore her set rules.

She gulped audibly and drew in a deep shaky breath. "I-I'm a good puppy, I'm a good puppy I promise, Jimmy" her voice was soft, and her body was tense awaiting what he was about to do to her. She was preemptively dreading looking in a mirror when he would finally let her go back up to the penthouse. . . Provided she could even limp over to the elevator in the first place with what he had done to her. Biting her lip she stared into his cold gaze unable to really move away under his strength even if she wanted to. Her brain was desperate for him to keep her alive, it rapidly spun through the stages of grief at speedy intervals this evening and currently she was at a weird mix of accepting and bargaining. Gripping his hand tighter she spoke again, the tone of her voice meek and tired. "I. . . I love you, please don't kill me. I promise I'll do what you want" she was delusional in her hope, but she was thinking if perhaps she just uttered the words he wanted to hear then he would maybe go easier on her.