The Snake In The Grass

He’s a pro at what he does. He has been at it for years. So skilled and so experienced he is. Coming into the situation just right leading you into false security. False trust. False truth. False intentions. False interaction. Smooth and sweet is what he pretends to be. Yes, in the beginning, he seems to care, perhaps in the beginning he did. September meet again after many years. However, the more of you and him continue, the more you will begin to see. You’ll see the false presentation he puts on. But it will already be too late. He dragged you in. He pulled you along. Most of all, he made you out to be a player. Not wanting to be a part of the ‘game’, well maybe that’s what you’re in now when you’re with him. She didn’t notice at first…she didn’t notice what was going on. She’s genuine, honest, and had good intensions; she trusted this to be all real. She never wanted to be a part of the game, Never! In a way, players are like vampires. They pray on those that are unexpected and perhaps those that are a little weak. Then they make you feel comfortable, giving you a false security. Next, they get want they want, biting down on you and sucking you in. Then they take it. They always have cruel intensions. Able to stop cold turkey for someone she had deep feelings for, but she struggles to stop for someone that probably doesn’t care. That means she’s addicted to him. She’s addicted to him. (She wonders how he feels and what he would think and say about that.) Although she feels bad to say he doesn’t care. She wants to believe he does. She knows there is a nice and sweet soul deepened within him. She experienced that in him years ago. She wants to see that again; not exclusively, but at least as real friends. It’s a bit unfair to say that she question rather or not if he cares. He feels the same way (about her, she is sure). Truth is, SHE DOES. Always had and always will. But they way he plays her is perfectly, and she falls for it every time. She feels trapped when he shows up at her home out of nowhere, and says ‘spend the night with me’. She done it once or twice, but doesn’t stand to do it once more. He’s slick, she thinks, that’s why he does it sparingly. The snake in the grass, creeps up and get you, gets her every time. Rude to call him that but it’s quite fitting. And just like he doesn’t respond to her calls, texts, messages, etc. perhaps because ‘we’re just hooking up, fuck her she doesn’t care’, is the same reason why she doesn’t answers his. He has his way with her, neither one of them can possibly honestly truly care….right? Not necessarily.

She can admit that in the beginning she wanted it too, she was willing. But the more it happened to her, the more she was starting to resist. Forced is how it started to come. She didn’t want to pleasure him that way anymore. Remembering the pain she felt when he would grab her hair. Reliving the pain she felt when he grabbed her neck. That was just the launch of the even more pain she will endure. On the floor completely exposed, she thinks she was a bit afraid. She knew what was about to happen. She knew she had to take it. Once taken, surprise was the reaction she experienced. How can the pain continue and intensify each time. This time will be one she would never forget. He began and she felt it. The hurt he caused her made her cry. Tears were literally flowing down the sides of her face. The joy of pain. But she always trusted him. She knew what he was doing, that he knew how to do it and what to do. He had to cover her mouth because of her loud moans covered with cries. She was a tad embarrassed of the tears because she didn’t want to seem weak. She would say ‘STOP’ knowing that he wouldn’t and knowing in the back of her mind that she didn’t want him to. But with his strength inside her she had no choice.

 

 

More pain and more tears followed. The most painful place to be, he went. Pushing her hands against his body to get him off, but with an untrying weak effort, he continued. The pain, oh the pain! She could no longer control her cries or tears, she let it go. Surprised by his request, “look at me”, she obeyed and enjoyed what she was seeing. (Before, she could never look him in the eyes. Afraid of what she might see, or reflectively, afraid of what he might see in her.) She wanted to say him name, but he didn’t demand it. She’s trying to breathe while he squeezes her neck. The tightest hold he ever held on her. No more fight she put up, giving him all control.

 

 

One more place to be that isn’t that easy. Facing the floor she could feel the tears rush down her face. Wanting…needing to grab hold of something but there’s nothing she could use to quench her need to help her endure; she’s left in the open. Resting her head down on the carpet was the only slight relief. She could feel the jerks of her body from his rapid movement. She could feel the grief of the pain inside her from his aggressive tones. She took it. The whole experience pleased her but also caused her the strongest spiritual conviction she ever endured. Yes, crying because of the pleasurable pain, but also because of the thoughts of wrong doing. How did it come to this point with him?

 

Slave. Slave is what she is to him. He demands. He forces. He’s the tyrant. She’s obedient. She’s submissive. She’s the captive. Ha, this isn’t a game anymore; or at least she doesn’t want it to be. She’s wants the next level; the next level of complete domination. She wants total force. (However, she has been rebellious of late.) Slaps to the face he did to her. Smacks to the face he unleashed upon her. Tied hands behind her back, she was hostaged. But now he has to be pugnacious on a higher level. Don’t be so easy on her, she wants. Use rope, she hopes. Utilize a gag, she wishes. Throw her. Toss her. Hold her down. Lie on top of her and smack her right on the side of her face. Go harder when she says ‘stop’. Do it tougher when she cries ‘no’. Pin her down when she tries to push off and get away. It has to be fully against all her will…and there’s a name for that but she isn’t going to speak of it.

 

What’s next to become of this, she isn’t sure. She’s so use to that phone call or that text saying “come outside” or “what are you doing tonight”. She knows what that means. It means ‘I want to be inside of you tonight’. At the latest contact, it was a different get in touch. He just wanted to say hi? What? All of a sudden, out of nowhere, it’s not the same old hook up offer. He has trained her so well to expect a field trip with him every time he gives attention to her. Having that happened, made her realize how used she is and how used he made her be and feel. But should she really feel that way? On multiple occasions she greeted him in the early days with “Good Morning”, “Have a good day”. She didn’t want anything then. She just wanted to make him feel good and perhaps boost his mood and confidence that his day will be alright. So isn’t that the same when he last contacted her? Maybe so, she’s willing to accept that. But it always fall back into a pattern of he won’t respond to her, she won’t respond to him. Funny thing is, after that very last time, for the first time ever, she’s been expecting….no, waiting on the next pick up. See at first in the beginning, he had her wanting more, a relationship. The more she fucked with him them less that became and the more all she ever started to want was his sensual pleasures. She can’t explain it any better than this. He does something to her she cannot explain. He’s good. However, she will admit, she misses the Round Twos. She gets left on the floor and feels like shit. Feels like shit. Sure, she can make her own self comfortable, but his lack of compassion she feels is enough evidence for her to feel as if he doesn’t care. She feels like she’s just that “play piece” for him whenever we want it and whenever he gets it.

 

 

 

She guesses the most evidence she has was the tricks. One evening of defiance she was able to identify something. She rebelled against his cravings and led him elsewhere. “Oh, you think you’re the only one?” she teased him. She continued to play that game. All of a sudden, BOOM, there’s that caring person from last September, when they got back in touch after many years. He bombarded her with priceless attentiveness. Sayings and questionings of: “Cassidy, (her alias name), I want you to be successful. What are you interested in? What do you have your degree in? Do you think that I’m just using you? No, I really like you. I really consider you as a friend. I’m not using you.” Then he throws down another shocking bombshell: “I need a girlfriend. I need someone to move in with me. Cassidy, if I made you my girlfriend, would you move in with me?” She went along with everything; answering his questions but with much speculation. He must have felt threaten? Perhaps if she had another guy, that wouldn’t sit too well with him because he wants his slave all to himself! Till this day she kind of doubts his forwardness of concern. In a years’ time, since last September, that was the only other time he ever seemed to be interested in her other than the sensual carnal stimulations. But she doesn’t even care about that anymore. She just doesn’t care; it doesn’t bother her whether or not if he meant those things. But she’s comfortable with him. He does make her laugh. At times, he made her cry, not because of his sexual actions. She broke down over him when she realized what the true picture was. Now, she is lost, maybe a little confused. She wants to know how long will this last before it ends or until it turns into something else. Will anything change? What is going to happen and what are his intensions, she ponders. She’s not dumb, she just doesn’t say or do anything about it. She knows more, but isn’t going to stress it. It’s whatever now…