I Got Wiring Loose Inside My Head

You know that dreaded look in his eyes. You’ve seen it enough times to know. You don’t know what brings it on. You’re not sure how to snap him out of it. All you know is that you must do as he asks. You must, unless you want to suffer the consequences later.

Consequences?

Of course, consequences.

You won’t forget the time that he tied you to the bed and left you there for more than a day. You won’t forget the time that he branded you with his teeth, leaving the faintest scar that still shows to this day. You won’t forget the time that he pinned you down and made you take it without any preparations whatsoever.

The punishment depended on what kind of mood he was in. Being found over a day and a half later, naked and tied to the bed by one of his mates was getting off rather easily. Easy, as opposed to having to explain the nasty eyesore on your neck, or turning down some of your favourite activities for days so no one sees the gashes his nails have left down your back.

Willing participation didn’t seem to be much better. Nothing except the lesser of two evils. He lures you into whatever room he’s staying in, the empty tour bus or even the back of his car. Anywhere out of sight and out of mind. His mates all know to leave him alone when he’s gone off. They know how temperamental he can be when he’s working and gets interrupted. No one suspects a thing.

You’ve been with him for a little more than three years now. Looking back on the days when you had a little fledgling crush on him, you never understood why he was by himself. It never dawned on you until that first time it happened six months into the relationship. You had tagged along on site for some his tour and he happened to get in one of his moods. He asked you to meet him on the bus and you obliged, like a good girl. A good, innocent little girl. You thought he had some sort of surprise for you.

Oh he had a surprise alright.

Not five minutes after you set foot on the bus, he had torn your clothes off, literally, leaving the shreds to decorate the floor as he pushed you into the back, locking you both into the room. He didn’t even take his clothes off. He merely opened up his pants and pushed you against the bunk and took what he wanted. He didn’t ask if you wanted it, he didn’t even speak. Deep, throaty growls escaped him, your cries went unheard into the night until finally, he finished, leaving behind the warm reminder that ran down your thighs and stained the sheets long after he fell asleep.

The next morning, he woke up to find you staring down at him as if he’d just drooled on himself. He didn’t seem to recall the previous night and had no idea where you’d gotten your fresh bite marks. His next move was accusing you of cheating on him with another of his mates, and coming back to his bed to show off the marks you’d gotten.

He was obviously insecure.

“Don’t you remember last night?” You asked in a breathy voice and received no answer. He got up off the bed, looking down between your legs as you lifted them up and spread them apart to assess for yourself. The sight made him hard, and it was apparent. Nervously, you let him crawl back on top of you and have his way again. This time was different; gentle, loving. All the ways you were accustomed to. He wasn’t sure why you flinched, or squirmed underneath his touch.

And that’s how it usually went.

Sometimes he just fell right to sleep when finished. Sometimes he never acknowledged that it happened. Sometimes he pretended he had no idea. Sometimes he would cuddle you close, whispering sweet nothings and tender apologies when it was over.

When he wasn’t in a mood, he was the sweetest, most loving person you could ever wish to know. He always held your hand, put his arm around you protectively, opened doors for you, pulled chairs out for you and all the things a gentleman should do. It only seemed fitting that such a wonderful man would come with a price, didn’t it?

Deep down, you know he loves you so and adores you more than anything in the world. That’s why you do as he asks when he beckons you and let him do as he pleases with you when he’s in those moods. You don’t bother to question anymore, or fight it.

In the end, that makes you just as bad as he is for enabling him to continue.

And so tonight, you’ll come to his room and he’ll leer down at you as though you were inferior to him. He’ll rip your clothes to pieces. He’ll bite your neck repeatedly – hard enough to leave marks that will stay visible for days. He’ll pin you down against the bed or tie you there, depending on what he feels like tonight and he’ll make you take it rough, only stopping when he’s sated.

In the morning, he’ll be his usual, talkative and timid self; until next time.