…And nothing hurt: Masochist Musings
He has never hit me in the stomach before and whilst the blow is not hard it is shocking, as is the change in him as he hits me. I feel rather than hear myself gasping and I am scuttling backwards on the bed like a spider, like a man falling, but there’s nowhere to go and I end up in a corner with him almost on top of me, crouched over me with a raised fist.
It is an effort to still my breathing and swallow sobs. There is a place inside that they are all forced into until my chest feels like it might expand and burst. I bite my cheeks and swallow again. Feel my eyes widen with the effort. Squeeze them shut.
I walk back to town with my best friend, where I’ve agreed to meet him. I tell her not to wait, because I want to be on my own when he arrives. I am suddenly self-conscious about how I might seem to her, who I might become when I’m with him.