Page 332 of Phobia
Becoming His Angel
S.M. Landon
Chapter 1
October 2023
“Open your mouth.”
When I hesitate for a moment too long, he digs his thumb and forefinger into my cheeks forcefully and hisses in my face, “Don't make me repeat myself.”
My lips are parted by his move alone, but to show him I'm a good boy for him, I stick my tongue out and patiently wait for my medicine.
He lets go of my face and slaps my cheek, leaving a fiery trail on my skin. I flinch, as the fine sting is always a prelude to something I don't want to think about.
He stares down at me, darkness flooding his gaze as his eyes glide over my naked body. He palms himself and mutters, “Lick your lips.”
I panic. I need the pill first. I can't do this. Not without it. I don't know how. I don’t want to remember anything John ever does to me. I don’t care to know what it looks like when he’s taking everything I’ve got to give, chasing his own pleasure.
He fists my hair roughly, angling my face up. I've done it now. He looks so angry.
“I’m sick of this. You're pathetic.” He yanks my head and rubs himself over my face. He says he hates it when I hesitate, but I can tell that's a lie. My fear fuels him. He wants me to be scared. He loves my terrified eyes. He loves how I plead for him to give me relief.But the cure he provides seems to only worsen my sickness.
Our needs meet briefly in the middle - I require his care. His protection from the elements that haunt me is a necessity I’ve come to depend upon. It is the only way I can breathe and be free from the terrors that plague my restless mind.
He needs my pain, my fear, my horror-stricken body paralyzed by his touch.
This is where our desires part. He wants this to be something I enjoy. He demands I find a way and learn to crave it. So, he says. But after months in his care I sincerely doubt it.
I need...I don't even know what anymore. I've been stumbling through life, for all of my twenty-two years without finding a solution to my problems or respite from my constant fear-stricken body.
My heart is beating fast. I think I'm gonna be sick. My muscles constrict, bracing for the pain I know is coming. The way my body thinks it defends itself from an impending attack leaves me, in fact, completely helpless – so much so that even my breathing is labored. My throat closes, and every breath of air burns and triggers my gag reflex.
He shoves me away and I tumble onto my back, my tears spilling down my temples. I tremble on the filthy floor, naked. The space flickers in and out as my tears obscure my vision and I blink furiously, fighting for a glimpse of the dimly lit derelict room we're in tonight. My hands are bound behind my back and my ankles are shackled to the floor.
He takes a knee next to my head as I’m thrashing on the floor. He reaches for me, the pill pinched between his thick, meaty fingers. A moment of calm overtakes me, and my body goes slack.
I focus on his filthy fingernails descending to my parted lips. Everything is happening in slow motion although I know that's not the reality that is unfolding around me.
His fingers plunge deep into my throat depositing the small pill. As his fingers retreat, they never completely leave my mouth. He holds my jaw ajar, pulling it wide open with both hands, digging his thick, calloused fingers into the soft dry flesh of my mouth. He leans closer and spits on my tongue.
“Swallow your medicine.”
I do it and he spits again and again until I can't taste anything but the bitter tang of cheap cigarettes and beer.
His hands retreat and they close over my mouth and eyes. For a moment I panic, struggling to breathe, horrified by the darkness behind my eyelids.
He grunts and presses harder. “Come on. Settle. I don't have all night. I wanna fuck you before I leave. Be good and I'll...”
The pill is taking me away from whatever empty promises he's making. I've lost hope. None of his words mean shit anymore.
I am weightless.
I am nothing but filth and fear.
I am fading…lost inside my fractured mind.
As the light shines bright, my happy little pill takes me away from the filthy floor my body lies on. I don't need to dig too deep through my memories to see the face of my mother. In my drug-induced vision, her lips move, and she mouthsI love you, baby,as she waves goodbye to me and leaves me behind in her hasty escape.
