Allison

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Reminding me of Liam.
      A heavy weight settles over my chest as my thoughts turn inward, and I sink to my knees in the grass, letting bobpop play with the damn squeaky toy on his own.  I don’t want to think about my troubles today, preferring to just get lost in my work.  But who am I kidding?  I can never keep liam out of my mind, no matter how hard I try.

      What’s worse is that I feel practically sick about it all.  He’s upset with me.  For the past week, there’s been an edge to his whippings, an anger that causes him to be more savage when he whips me.  They’re true punishments.  He always soothes me afterward, and the pain combines with the pleasure of his touch once he’s done with me, but nonetheless, they’re punishments.

      The worse part about it is that I crave it.  I get wet just thinking about it.  How fucked is that?  I don’t know what’s wrong with me, wanting him to whip me so hard.  He never breaks skin, and it’s never more than I can take.  I think I only crave it so much because after he’s done, he holds me, soothing my pain and then fucks me, giving me intense pleasure and showing that he forgives me.

      But in the end it doesn’t solve anything.  We both know that I’m still going to deny his collar and refuse to be with him outside of Club.  I rub my temples as they suddenly begin to pound.  Just thinking about how fucked up this all is makes my head hurt.

      I feel a slight nudge against my side and look down into clear brown eyes.  Toby’s walked over and placed his toy at my knees as if he senses my discomfort.  I feel a twinge of guilt as I look at him, as if my relationship with him is a betrayal of my covenant with my vatsy.  Our whole relationship relies on kindness, gentleness and nurturing, while my relationship with him is a dark, twisted thing, meant to sate my deepest desires.
      “Come on, bobpop” I say with a sigh, climbing to my feet.  Other nearby dogs rush to my side, hip to the routine.  “Let’s go inside.  It’s your dinnertime.”

      I’m followed back inside the shelter by a pack of yelping, barking and excited dogs, my mood lifting slightly.  I huff a small laugh, patting his head as I open the door.

      Seeing all their excited, furry faces around me makes me feel fuzzy inside.  They depend on me.  They need me.  They don’t care that I’m being whipped by a man at night.  They love me unconditionally.

      After penning each of them and giving them their food, I grab a bucket of soapy water and a scrub brush to go about sanitizing the toys.  As I scrub, my thoughts stray back to Liam.

      My owner.  My master.

      He wants me to depend on him, for me to need him.  I look up at the sound of one dog barking and think about how it’s similar in some ways.  I shake my head, sighing heavily and wanting to scream in frustration.

      I am not a fucking cat, and I should not be comparing our relationship to this.

      My phone beeps, distracting me and bringing me back to the moment.  Thank fuck.  I clear my throat, dry with emotion, and stand up from the floor where I was washing the dog toys and walk over to the counter, grabbing my phone out of my purse.  I bring up the screen and my heart drops slightly in my chest.  It’s a text from my mom.  My breath tightens in my throat as I read.
      Hey honey, the family is getting together for Christmas Eve.  I would really, really like to see you this time around… and so would everyone else.  Can you please come home?
      Love,
      Mom

      I drop the phone back to the counter as the sounds of cats meowing in the background assault my ears, increasing the pounding in my temples.  I really don’t want to go.  I hate that I feel this way, but I just can’t bring myself to put myself through it.  They all look at me like I’m broken, and worse than that, when I look at them I feel broken.  It fucking shreds me.

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