Drusilla's Diaryby Miss MimiAs soon as I let in the door, he was about me, lips burning into mine until I felt I would die, his shirt undone and already falling to the floor. I led him into the room. He knelt at the foot of my bed, like a man waiting to be knighted. I pulled the sash off the bed curtains and bound his arms together at the wrist. He pretended to resist, making it all the more enjoyable. Angelus knew what I yearned for and always satisfied me. I slid my hand under his chin and pulled him to his feet, kissing him with every bit of lust in my soul. His dark eyes reflected the surrounding candlelight. On a whim, I pushed him down on the cushions on the floor and snatched a candle from my dressing table. His eyes flickered with fear as I drew near. "Dru-" he started to warn. But I put my finger to his lips, hushing his pleas. He took it into his mouth; by I dropped my hand before he could bite. Giving the candle another thought, I placed it on the floor and wrapped my arms around my Angelus, whispering in his ear, "We'll save that for another time." Taking a knife from its place next to my bed. I tore through the curtain sash and tossed it on the floor. Angelus carried me into the bed and we made love all night. Bedding was not my favorite activity, yet I agreed to his wishes because he understood mine. A few days later he was reported missing. My father was furious. Angelus held a high position in the army as well as being a wealthy nobleman's son. The entire town was searched until they found him drunk in a whorehouse. He was thrown into the jail below the manor. Later that day, I paid him a visit. I descended the stairs in a white dress that grazed the stone steps. He was huddled in a corner, shivering. As soon as he saw the light coming from the lamp I held, he stood and clutched the bars. "Hello, Angelus," I said coldly. "Dru . . ." he breathed. I stood there waiting for an explanation. He reached between the bars to touch me. I stepped back. "Dru, I'm sorry." His face was full of sorrow mixed with guilt. "Don't." I snapped. "I wasn't good enough for you? You had to find solace in the arms of a dirty street woman?" He was fist shocked, but then began to defend himself. "As if you're a symbol of purity and innocence," he said angrily. He had deliberately insulted me as a woman and as his lover. I felt as if I had been slapped. I started walking away. "Dru, stop! I didn't mean it." From the base of the stairs I turned around and gazed at him. The look on his face was not unlike the one he wore when he came to my room, overcome with emotion. But I was too angry to forgive him, and I let him rot there for a few days, without food. One mug of tepid water was his only nourishment. On the third day I returned. He was lying on the ground, too weak to even lift his head as I entered. Without a word, I opened the cell and tried to get him to his feet. I half-dragged, half-carried, him up the stairs and into my room. The straps were already fastened to the bedposts. All I had to do was settle him on some cushions, he would never be able to stand in his condition, and buckle his wrists into the straps so he hung like a grotesque crucifix. He flitted in and out of consciousness for a while, as I tried to force some soup down his throat. I couldn't have my fun if he was dying. Hour later, he was in much better condition, especially when he realized what position he was in. As soon as he regained some strength, he tried to break free. The motion awoke me from my sleep. I stood up from the bed and walked to its foot. Angelus looked hatefully at me. "Angelus, my dear angel, you've been very naughty," I spoke as I picked up a white candle from my dressing table. I ran my fingers over his smooth, still muscular chest. I tipped the candle until the wax spilt onto his skin. He jerked from pain but refused to yell out. "Dru . . ." he whispered. "Hush!" I cried. "You deserve to have your throat ripped out. A little burn is nothing." The spot on his chest turned scarlet where he was burned. I pressed my lips to the skin. I kept him like that for two more days, to make hi realize the pain he cause me. It was quite nice to see him under my power. I would have never let him go, except I couldn't stay mad at him anymore. The look in his eyes as he told me, "Dru, I'm sorry. Please let me go," was so beautiful. He was my angel. When I removed the straps, he fell to the ground. I knelt in front of him, wrapping my arms around him as if comforting a little boy. I led him to the bed, where he laid next to me. I watched him sleep, imagining the next time he would be bad and the pleasures I would have. Reach the author, Miss Mimi, at CMBoz@aol.com for feedback! |