Jessie Ch. 14 Pt. 03

"Are you ok with me?"

Her eyebrows rose together. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Cuz I was off having a weekend of sex with our housekeeper and occasionally threesome partner, and you were watching people melt and die? I shouldn't have gone, and I'm sorry."

Her chuckle was harsh, not at all the light giggle I usually heard. "I told you to go. The only way I'd be angry at you is if you could've done something to prevent this and didn't."

"I could've killed Morgan last year."

She snickered. "No, you couldn't."

"Fair enough."

Jessie removed her hand from mine and continued eating, held up her glass when it was empty. I refilled it and she sighed at the harsh liquid crossing her lips.

I followed her upstairs, and she undressed mechanically in our bedroom, dropping clothes in a pile and walking into the bathroom. I heard the shower run, and she stuck her head around the corner. "Join me."

"Sure."

I undressed, stepped into the shower and adjusted the temperature of the water while she relieved herself, and then she flushed and stepped under the scalding water with me.

I watched Jessie lather up and scrub herself methodically, and I couldn't feel any arousal from the sight of her nude body. She seemed mechanical, numbed by everything she'd seen. Drugged. A zombie. I sighed and washed my hair, watched her like she was a tightrope walker carrying a motion-sensitive bomb. I didn't know what to do for her, what she needed, and that scared the shit out of me.

Body meticulously cleaned, she stepped past me and rinsed off under the showerhead, and I moved behind her, wrapped my arms around her. Held her. She exhaled, sagged slightly into my embrace. "I love you," she whispered.

I kissed her wet hair. "I love you too. I'm scared for you. I'm scared that you need something I don't know how to give. I'm scared that you're hurt and I can't be there for you."

Jessie turned in my arms blinked water from her eyes. "I've never seen anything like that. And I never want to again." Her words were simple, but direct. Final. "But I'm going back to school on Wednesday. I'm not dropping out. If I can do ANYTHING to help people... Like that... When they need help so fucking badly... When they're in so much fucking PAIN... It doesn't matter how it fucks me up after." She laughed, and it sounded painful. "I know what you meant, now. Good trade."

My eyes welled up and I hugged her close.

DAMMIT! I wished she didn't understand that.

"What can I do for you, how can I help you?"

One of her hands slid between us, gripped my penis, started slowly pumping out. Her lips lifted to mine, and the passion with which she kissed me felt...grotesque... Like she was trying to create intimacy in a charnel house.

"Jessie, you don't need..."

"Shhh..." The slim brunette took a step back, continued jacking me as she reached down to begin masturbating. "I need this. I need...I need pain. I need to get lost in it. I need to focus. I need to be...not here. Please, daddy. I need you to hurt me tonight. The belt?"

I ground my teeth together, pulled her into a bruising kiss. I didn't WANT to do this. I wanted to hold her until she fell asleep, I wanted to be gentle and protective and take care of her. I didn't want to hurt her, didn't want anything to hurt her ever again.

But I'd do it.

Because she needed it.

Because this exhausted, traumatized woman that I loved wanted to get lost in subspace, I'd hurt her, even though it hurt my heart to even think about.

We brushed our teeth, and then Jessie sat on the edge of the bed for her cuffs, slid off to kneel for her collar. She looked up at me with tired, sad, expectant eyes as I draped the leather around her neck, secured the clasp. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too," I replied.

Jessie handed me my belt from the pile of my clothes, then bent over her makeup table, arms stretched in front of her. Normally as I snaphooked her limbs down, I'd get hard anticipating hurting my raven-haired beauty, fucking her brains out after.

I couldn't summon arousal for this.

I stroked Jessie's back before stepping away. "You want this? You're sure?"

"Yeah."

She stiffened and groaned as the folded leather bit the pale skin of her ass, the white streak it left quickly turning red. A second strike and the "Ahhh-haaa" noise she made sounded like a sigh. Then she looked over her shoulder at me. "My legs too. And harder. Then fuck me. PLEASE fuck me."

I had to stop, eventually. I didn't think Jessie would. I didn't think she'd be smart and safeword out. Angry purple bruises had formed on her thighs and buttocks, spots of blood and abraided skin from the snap of the belt. She'd cried out, fought her restraints initially, grinding against the edge like she could escape through the table, but had glared back over her shoulder when I'd paused.

I understood.

She wanted to fight and lose. Expend her strength and submit. Sometimes I needed that in wrestling class too, to just get BEAT UP. She needed this. To feel powerless, to feel pain, to suffer and have it not be her fault or her choosing.

Jessie had stopped fighting her restraints after a while, put her head down between her arms. Her body gave a little twitch with every loud snap of the belt against her legs or ass, and she vocalized a little whimper, and that was the extent of her response to the whipping. I stepped away and she didn't look up for a moment, then whined and shifted against her bonds. "Put it in me, please, daddy. Please." Her voice sounded worn, plaintive, pained.

I moved to the side of the makeup table, took my cock in hand, began jerking it slowly, working soft flesh hard, back and forth. There was nothing arousing about what I felt, the scenario in which we found ourselves, and my mind ran back to other scenes, other moments for inspiration in getting hard. I felt guilty, remembering back to Sienna on the beach to grow erect.

"Is this what you want?" I asked quietly.

Jessie looked up to see me stroking myself. "Yes..."

In my mind, Sienna knelt, reached back to pull aside her bikini bottoms and show me her asshole, not just submitting, but requesting my attention. She rode me slowly, passionately on the flybridge of the docked yacht.

Tori came to mind unbidden, small golden-brown body pinned beneath me as I pounded into her in a cabin in Minnesota, glossy black hair sliding across the pillow like oil as she twisted and writhed with pleasure.

I stepped behind Jessie, lined up my erection with her slit, and pushed in. She groaned, whimpered, as I filled her. Not quite wet, and I withdrew, spat into my hand, rubbed it up and down my shaft and reentered. I moved slowly, and she gasped, made little cries with each motion of my erection inside her sheathe. I couldn't tell if it was enjoyment or pain or both. I leaned down over her. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No, daddy, please! Don't stop!" She sounded panicked and I began moving, hammering against her bruised and injured buttcheeks. Her response was the same little cries, lowering her head and barely even shifting with my motion against her.

Physically, I was enjoying this, and so was she. Her pussy was getting wet, and the tactile sensation of being inside it was enough to keep me hard and eventually make me ejaculate.

Mentally, she wasn't even in the same room, and I didn't want to be.

I kept fucking her, going through the motions.

Eventually, I realized those little whimpers and cries were actually crying. I withdrew immediately, shock, pain, panic, alarm, all running relays through my brain and circulatory system.

I unbuckled Jessie's wrists, turned her head because she refused to lift it. "Are you ok?"

She started sobbing.

Fuck me. I moved to unbuckle her ankles and she shifted her legs away from my touch. "No, please, I want to feel it, please, just get back in me, please..."

I unclipped her legs from the legs of the table, and she cried even harder. I picked her up and carried her to bed, setting her on the sheets, lifting her head with my bicep, almost completely covering her body with mine and holding her tight. She clung to me as convulsions wracked her body, sadness shaking her as it forced its way out.

"Are you ok, baby, talk to me please, what's wrong?"

"I...I..." another burst of sobbing bent her towards me, and tears streamed from her eyes, leaked in rivulets over her reddened, puffy face.

"I've got you, Jessie, it's ok. I've got you. Shhhh, shhhh..."

She fought down the sobs until they were messy hiccups and coughs, pulled her face away from my shoulder. "One... one of the first patients I saw was a young couple. They..." her face screwed up at the memory and fresh tears leaked from eyelids she squeezed shut. She mastered her emotions, continued. "The paramedics let her on the ambulance because she wouldn't stop holding his hand. Refused. She was in shock, kept trying to put a piece of his skull back on his head. Looked like a shark had just...just taken a bite out of him. They were on their way to a vacation and he pushed her out of the car when the shooting started. She was like nineteen, and I remember thinking..."

Crying started again and I held her close.

No one should have to see what she'd seen today. No one should have to suffer what the people on the highway had suffered.

Her hand found my cock, still hard, and she tried to angle it between her legs, up inside herself. "Jessie stop, you're - "

"I need to feel you, Gary. Please. I need this, to be close, to BE with you again, please..."

I shifted on top of her, held myself up, reached down and guided my shaft into her. Another sob, a whimper as I slid in, and she wrapped her arms and legs around me, spider-like.

"Thank you, daddy," she whispered in my ear. "Thank - uhhhhhhnnnn"

My thrusting tore away her coherent speech, and she just held on, wet face buried in my shoulder as I pumped back and forth within her.

Apparently she needed this. To be close to me, to feel pain and then...closeness. Oneness.

Jessie didn't cum. I tried every pacing, grinding, change of angle trick I could think of, but her brain just wasn't there. That made me feel even more guilty about finishing in the crying gothic woman, guilty for fucking her in such a state, even at her request, guilty for climaxing without giving her that release as well.

She pulled me even tighter when she felt me nutting inside her, the pulses for warm wetness spilling out with every jerk of my body. "Thank you, daddy," she whispered, smiling up at me, face messy and tear-streaked, eyes glassy. "Thank you."

Still inside her, I rolled us over, held her shuddering on my chest. I stroked her hair, felt, heard her cry again, stop, resume, before sleep finally stole her away.

My heart broke for her.