Maybe you're making it up as you go. Me? I like to think I've got a firm hold on things here. I'll see about that pamphlet.
So, after this "Unfortunate Realization", is he treating you with any more care? Does he realise that, in fact, there's a person here that I love and care for, maybe they don't need to choke on my cock at every opportunity? Or is it indeed the opposite, that he's so overwhelmed with his affinity for you that he simply must let you know whenever he can how much you mean to him, even if that means repeatedly having to buy new sheets because you keep biting holes in the pillowcases?
ST.
Oh, you certainly do! But only because you won’t let anyone else see the master plan here. And I’m morbidly curious about what’s going through that head of yours. In fact, these are all anonymous, yet you answer pretty quickly when one of us responds. Do you have notifications on for every single person you’ve sent an ask to? Or are you obsessively reloading our blogs every few minutes, waiting with baited breath for a response? Either option is adorable, honestly.
I think it’s a gradual shift, from the latter to the former. Once he’s realized his feelings, there’s a part of him that leans towards self sabotage, the hurt piece of him that thinks himself undeserving of what you’re giving him. Of course he’s a hedonist to the core so he’s not going to tell you to stop or break it off or anything, but his passion does verge near sadism for a bit. His nips become bites, draw blood that he licks and sucks out of you. Spankings become more forceful, more slaps to the same cheek without downtime. Your tears taste more bitter than before, and it brings him to life in a way no one else has had the ability to. He has fantasies of actually branding you, of taking a hot metal rod to your bare skin and tracing his initials while you scream and writhe in pain, and the way it makes him spurt white hot into his own palm is embarrassing.
And it’s a sort of anger that fuels these fantasies, the idea that someone could break him apart like this makes him furious. But when all is said and done, when he’s made you dig your fingernails into his back from overstimulation and you feel so good your eyes cross, he has to face facts. That maybe love, in some twisted form, was made for him, too. That as much as he might deny his own humanity, his heart still beats fast when your fingers graze his own. That he may have ruined you, and that it, in return, has saved him.