Him and Her: Dinner

He pulled her hair back into a braid and secured the end with a pony tail. The touch of his hands in her hair was so tender and soft. It made her melt every time. He took care of her and gave her the utmost attention because he believed you need to worship and build up what you break down so they know they are loved.

He kissed the side of her neck over and over again. This always caused a smile to spread across her face. The roughness of his scratchy beard tickled her neck as she fought to not let out a giggle. 

He produced the ball gag from his pocket and walked to the sink to wash it off. She obediently parted her lips in preparation for the gag to be put in place. Once the ball was in her mouth he secured the gag in place making sure it wasn’t too tight but also wouldn’t fall out. 

She took his out stretched hand as he helped her up to her feet. He instructed her to go busy herself while he prepared dinner. She grabbed a book and cozied up in the arm chair in the corner of the room. She was careful to hold the book at a distance due to the drool that was slowly dripping from her mouth. 

The house was being filled with wonderful smells as he sautéed vegetables and prepared carbonara, her favorite dish. Within a half hour he returned to her. She put down her book and looked up at him. He took his hand and rubbed her chest where the drool had been pooling. He distributed the drool all over her body as if rubbing her down with lotion. Again, he offered his hand to help her up and the two of them went to the kitchen.

He pulled out her chair for her to sit down. He grabbed the bottle of wine and poured them both hearty glasses. He moved on to serving them generous portions of dinner. She bowed her head for him to take off the gag but was thrown off when instead he simple sat down across the table from her.

He raised his glass to offer a toast. Confused, she picked up her glass as well to toast him. They toasted to a wonderful meal and the opportunity to spend quality time together on such a relaxing evening. He took a big swig from his glass and motioned that she do the same. She simply looked down at her glass with panic growing inside her. He knew full well she couldn’t take a drink with the gag in her mouth. 

She looked back at him with pleading eyes, unaware her drool was falling right into her glass. He smiled and got up. He walked up behind her and took her hand in his and lifted the glass to her lips. She tried resisting but it was no use. He explained to her that it is rude to not have a drink when someone makes a toast. He tilted the glass back causing wine to run down her body instead of into her mouth.

He noted that she should be less messy and sat back down at his seat. She looked down at her lap to see the red pool of wine sitting between her thighs. He merely began eating his meal and talking about his day at work. All she could do was shift about in her seat uncomfortably as the wine began spilling underneath her. She could feel it drying on her chest and see the red stained streaks that made their way down her legs. 

He put down his fork and again explained that it is rude to not eat meal that someone has prepared for you and asked her to please begin eating before it gets cold. She picked up her fork and began twirling the pasta about her plate hoping this would make him happy.

This time with more anger in his voice he demanded that she eat, claiming that it is insulting that she is merely pushing it around her plate. Tears begin swelling in her eyes as she knows she unable to do what he wants from her. 

Again he yells at her to eat, slamming his fist down on the table. As tears begin to fall from her face she brings a forkful of pasta to her face and tries to put it in her mouth. Of course she is unsuccessful. 

He gets up and storms over to her. He squats down so that they are eye level. He looks into her eyes with such anger and ferocity for what seems like an eternity. He slaps her across the face causing her to let go of the fork and let it fall to the floor. He suggests perhaps she does not know how to use the fork and that is why she’s not eating. He places his hand on the back of her head and shoves her face into the pasta. Eat, eat, eat he insists.

The disgust on his face makes her insides burn with the overwhelming feelings of being a failure. He goes back to his seat and finishes his meal while staring her down. When he is finished he informs her that she will not get up until she finishes her dinner. Once she is finished she may take a bath and come to bed. He walks away from the table and leaves her to stare at the pasta she cannot eat. 

Time passes and she hears him moving about the house doing his nightly activities. He checks on her from time to time to see her still sitting there, pasta sauce on her face, dried red wine covering her body, and fresh drool still spilling from her mouth. 

At one point he even pleads with her to eat. He begs her to please just eat one bite, it will make him so happy. Yet again she is unsuccessful. She looks at him with tears falling down her face. He leaves her once more. 

Eventually he turns off the lights in the house. She is at the table, alone, in the darkness, wailing.

He comes back to the kitchen to find her slumped in her chair asleep, exhausted from crying and the psychological torture he has caused her to endure. He lifts her out of the chair and carries her to the bathroom. A bath has been drawn and he lowers her into the warm water. 

He takes off the gag for the first time in hours. Her hands massage her very sore jaw. He shushes her and tells her to relax. He washes her from head to toe with the gentlest of touches. Once she is clean he helps her out of the tub, wraps her in a towel, and carries her to the bedroom. 

Her eyes light up at the sight of a sandwich and milk sitting by the bed. He feeds her slowly and carefully as she eagerly eats every single bite. He kisses the top of her head as she finishes and whispers in her ear how good she is. He tells her that he couldn’t be happier, that she makes him so proud. Even though she could not eat the pasta she did not give up. She didn’t care that it was impossible and that she was purposefully set up for failure. She would never stop wanting to please him.

They very rarely dabbled with gas lighting as it took such an emotional toll on the both of them. What they loved about it was the intensity it could produce without having to lay a finger on her. Coming down off of the those moments always brought them closer and made them appreciate one another even more for they had found someone to push past their limits and take things to a level that not many can achieve. 

And with that they went to bed.