Painful Memories

A few days had passed since the incident with the traitor, and the atmosphere in the compound had settled somewhat. However, I could still feel an underlying tension, especially whenever I saw Sebastian. He seemed more distant, more withdrawn, leaving the house early and returning late at night.

I couldn’t say a word because he looked like he didn’t want to be approached.

One afternoon, as I was tidying up my room, a knock came at the door. It was Nancy, her expression neutral.

"Sebastian wants to see you," she said simply.

My heart skipped a beat. Despite the tension, I couldn't help but feel a flicker of excitement. I quickly brushed my hair and straightened my clothes before heading to his room, a small smile playing on my lips. I walked with a confident stride, happy at the thought of seeing him.

But as I entered his room, my excitement began to subside. The air was thick with a tense, serious aura. Sebastian was standing by the window, his back to me, staring out into the distance.

"Sebastian," I called softly.

"Lie down," he ordered, his voice authoritative and cold.

"Okay," I replied, my heart racing. Something was off with him today. He had been different lately, and today, he hadn’t left the house at all. Unease settled in the pit of my stomach as I lay down on the bed.

Sebastian moved towards me with purpose. There was no hesitation, no tenderness in his actions. He didn't look at me, he didn't give me a chance to stare into his deep brown eyes. He simply kissed me, and from the start, it was intense. His lips moved from my neck to my collarbone, his tongue leaving a wet trail on my skin. His kisses were deep but shallow in meaning; they carried just one intent—pleasure.

He didn't give me time to react or participate. His hands moved with precision.

Before I knew it he had spread my legs as he buried his head between my thighs. His tongue moved violently inside me, and while the physical sensation was pleasurable, the way he did it brought back dark memories. It reminded me of the time I was forced by that muscular ogre of a woman, who had made me touch her against my will.

I wanted him to continue but I also wanted him to stop, it was intense but my mind was drifting between pleasure and fear, I knew that experience had tainted me back in the day but I never thought it would make me have a fear of oral sex.

The fear began to rise within me, but it was soon overpowered by the pleasure of Sebastian's actions. It was a confusing mix of emotions, my past trauma clashing with the present sensations. Just as I was getting lost in the pleasure, he stopped abruptly and sat up on the bed, unzipping his trousers to expose his hard cock. The sheer girth of it made me more aroused, yet more apprehensive.

"Please me," he commanded.

I wanted to, but fear held me back. This was too much like what had happened to me before. I opened my mouth to explain, but before I could speak, he pulled my head closer.

"I said please me" he repeated, his voice more authoritative.

Trembling, I complied. As I took him into my mouth, the pain of past memories mingled with the physical discomfort. Tears welled up in my eyes and began to fall as I continued. The more I tried, the more I felt hurt—not just from the act, but from Sebastian's behavior. My tears turned into sobs, and I began to snivel, unable to hold back my emotions.

"Stop," he ordered, shaking his head with a look of disgust. "Just lie down. At least you can do that."

Ashamed and feeling like trash, I stood up, tears still streaming down my face. "I'm sorry," I cried. "I'll do as you say."

"Then stop crying," he snapped.

I lay back down, and he positioned himself behind me. As he entered me, his movements were rough, each thrust filled with fury. He slapped my ass hard, and it wasn't pleasurable anymore. The pain was intense, making me cry even harder, but he seemed deaf to my sobs.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I kept repeating, hoping he would stop.

Suddenly, he pulled out and stood up, looking away. I lay there, tightly hugging a pillow, feeling utterly broken. My trauma had ruined a moment that could have been intimate. I felt like I had failed, like I had ruined everything.

"Get out," he said coldly.

I began to beg. "Please, Sebastian, I'm sorry. I'll do anything. Please, let me please you," I cried, getting off the bed and kneeling before him like a desperate beggar.

"I don't need your pleasure anymore," he said, and his words shattered me completely. I began to shake, feeling utterly rejected and worthless.

"Please, Sebastian," I begged. "I can be anything for you. I swear I won't cry again in my life."

Ignoring my pleas, he walked to his wardrobe and pulled out a small whip and some restraints. "If you truly want to please me, then lie on the bed," he said as he prepared the restraints.

Fear coursed through me, but I just wanted to make things right. I lay on the bed, trembling, as he approached me with the whip. His expression was cold, devoid of any of the warmth I had once seen in his eyes.

Sebastian began to tie my wrists to the bedposts, the restraints digging into my skin. He moved with methodical precision, ensuring I couldn’t move. As he tightened the last restraint, he stood back, observing his work.

"Is this what you want?" he asked, his voice laced with a chilling calmness.

"I just want to please you," I whispered, my voice shaking.

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he ran the whip gently over my back, making me shiver. The anticipation was almost worse than the actual strike. When he finally brought the whip down on my skin, it wasn’t as hard as I expected, but it stung nonetheless. Each subsequent lash was harder, leaving burning trails on my back.

Tears continued to stream down my face, but I bit my lip to keep from crying out. I didn’t want to give him any more reason to be disappointed in me. My body shook with each lash, and I could feel the welts forming.

Sebastian paused, the room filled with my ragged breaths. "You said you wouldn’t cry," he remarked, a trace of disdain in his voice.

"I'm sorry," I choked out. "I’m trying."

He came around to face me, lifting my chin with the handle of the whip. "Trying isn’t good enough, Ariella."

He moved back behind me, resuming his harsh treatment. I felt each blow deeply, my skin screaming in protest. Yet, beneath the pain, a strange numbness began to settle in. I detached myself from the physical sensations, focusing instead on the idea that this would please Sebastian, that it would make things right.

Eventually, he stopped, tossing the whip aside. He untied my wrists, and I collapsed onto the bed, my body trembling uncontrollably. Sebastian stood over me, his expression unreadable.

"Get dressed and leave," he ordered.

Weakly, I pushed myself up, my muscles protesting with every movement. I reached for my clothes, quickly slipping them on. The pain in my back was intense, but it was nothing compared to the emotional turmoil inside me. As I turned to leave, I dared to glance at Sebastian one last time. His face was still hard, his eyes distant.

Without another word, I left his room, feeling more broken than ever before. I made my way back to my own room, each step sending waves of pain through my body. When I finally reached my room, I collapsed onto my bed, curling into a ball as sobs wracked my body.

Sofia entered, her eyes widening as she saw my state. "Ariella, what happened?" she asked, rushing to my side.

Through my tears, I managed to explain what had occurred. Sofia listened, her expression a mix of anger and sorrow.

"Sebastian is struggling," she said softly. "But that doesn't excuse what he did to you. You don’t deserve this, Ariella."

"I just want to make him happy," I whispered. "I thought... I thought I could help."

Sofia sighed, wrapping her arms around me gently. "You can’t fix him, Ariella. He has to want to change. You have to take care of yourself first."

As I lay in Sofia's embrace, I realized the truth in her words. I couldn’t sacrifice my well-being for Sebastian's approval. I needed to find my own strength, to heal from my own traumas.

That night, as I lay in bed, the pain in my back a constant reminder of what had happened, I made a silent vow to myself. I would find a way to survive this, to come out stronger. I would no longer let my past control me, and I would no longer seek validation through suffering.

Sleep eventually claimed me, my dreams filled with images of my past and present. The journey ahead would be difficult, but I knew that I had to find my own path, to reclaim my sense of self in a world that sought to strip it away.