Need
It was raining that night. I had been depressed all evening, but now I
just felt numb. The weather seemed to be expressing what I couldn't,
the dull wind a manifestation of my bitter frustration. Sometimes,
the feeling just doesn't go away. But not tonight.
I knew what I needed. And I saw it in her when I stopped briefly to
look at her. I saw it in the way she didn't see me for what I was.
She saw me for someone very different, and this was what I needed.
That, and what it was that she needed too.
We seemed to have an unspoken understanding of each other, but it was
soon broken when words invaded the silence. As the words left her
lips, only the need remained.
I don't know why it is I feel this way. It's just a part of me, an
inner reaction to what I have become. Indoors, stripped of my clothes
and later stripped of my flesh by the cruel lash of her birch, I needed
to feel human again. I needed for her to humiliate me.
There was stinging pain as she lifted my head up by my hair to meet her
eyes. She threw some garments at me and told me to put them on. When
I looked down, I saw that she had given me her underclothes.
They didn't really fit, and I dare say they looked quite ridiculous as
I paraded up and down the room on my hands and knees, occasionally to
be whipped by her birch or kicked with her sharp heel. But it was
enough that I felt alive, even with the pain, enough that I could know
once more what it was to feel vulnerable.
As she lay on top of me, painfully grinding onto me, I began to feel
the futility of my existence, distracted as I was. She had one
stocking wrapped around my throat, choking me, and I wished that she
would just wrap it tight once and for all and put an end to my
pain.
When I finally climaxed, I wished that I would die. The release was
like a death in itself. The need... dead. For now. But now a new
need had come upon me.
Lurching forward, I grabbed her by the throat and sank my teeth into her
breast. She was scratching at me, slapping me, but this only
heightened the sensation of her blood. As she weakened, her arms
started flailing and my head began to spin. Standing, I quickly
gathered my clothes and fled the building.
The moment had gone for now. I don't know why things should be this
way; I kill my victims, but it's me I want to die. Soon... Soon, I
will find one who can help me do it. To reach the moment on the verge
of death, for it to be strong enough that I should give into it totally
and sacrifice myself to make it feel complete. This is what I really
need.