You Should Have Listened When I Was Kind

You Should Have Listened When I Was Kind

Rope sounds delightful. It’s one of those distinct noises that makes my brain tingle. Over and over, my hands deliver it with the creaky friction of tying knots around your wrists.

When I stand up from the floor my knees ache. I wiggle them, before drawing a sharp nail over your arm, following the bare muscles up to your jaw. It’s a bit spikey at this point. I grab your chin, angling it towards me. Even when unconscious, you are breathtaking. Delicious features, fit only for a Prince.

Pity then, that this Prince is rotten.

A puff of air blows in your face. You awake with the brutal strength from the night before, as if still in the moment I captured you. Big muscles flex and jolt to get free, but clearly your wrists protest. The agony is muted by cloth covering your mouth. Beautifully satisfying.

You look confused. The room must be hard to make out, with only one candle lighting the windowless space. I’m more than happy to help in that regard.

Locating the matches is swift. With a flick, a spark grows into flame that lifts and creates an orb shape. It creeps through the air towards the wood under the cauldron. In a matter of seconds the fire is roaring, and you see me.

I didn’t think I’d ever enjoy the sight of you more than when you were under me, but this is gold. Shirtless, bound, and terrified.

A giggle bounces off of the walls in tune to my prance as I start to collect items from the oddly placed shelves around the room. Brewing potions is an artform. Every single concoction uniquely captures a witch’s current needs. No two recipes are the same, and lucky for you I’m bustling with creativity today.

The base should be sea water. I heave with my whole body to lift the tub onto my workbench. Cracking the lid, I dip my pinky in and taste it. Extra salty. Perfect. It takes even more power, but I manage to dump all of the liquid into the cauldron.

Over the next few minutes I add herbs, insects and other items to the mix, stirring every so often. But don’t think I’ve forgotten about you. Your chest is begging for me.

I straddle you, placing one hand on your shoulder for balance. You’re warm and solid to the touch. The irony is tickling. It seems this ebbs your fear. Your head tilts with that toxic confidence I used to yearn for, daring energy overflowing. I’m amazed that you still think you have the upper hand. That you think I could melt for you still, if you just get me close; if you just make sure I smell the cherry perfume mixed with your natural dark scent.

I pinch the bottom of the cloth around your head and pull. It flies to hang around your neck. Your lips part slightly, lust dancing in the air. Did you like her on top too?

The slap makes you howl. I roll my head back, relishing in the sheer bliss that fills my bones. My hand landed in between your pecs and now feasts on your life force. It pulls at your heart’s energy, directing its beats to fuel my magic instead of your body. Soon my skin starts to bronze and I groan.

Right when you’re ready to faint, I move a vial to a fingertip. The metal fills the glass, stripping me of euphoria one thick drop at a time.

With blood pumping oxygen back into your brain, the whining starts. I roll my eyes. You didn’t even faint. The few seconds of ecstasy are long gone, and I won’t be able to focus as long as you keep uttering these pathetic sounds. I try to put the cloth back over your mouth, but the knot has come loose. I reach behind you, making no sense of it with your head blocking my view. I lean in. And teeth sink into my skin.

Stumbling backwards, I grasp my neck. It hurts like a bitch, but there’s no way you bit hard enough to draw blood. Barely even a nibble. Good. That mouth of yours is so dirty I would’ve gotten an infection. You foul creature… You lured me into your bed. You declared yourself as mine. And when I call your bluff, you bite me?

I warned you this would happen. I told you that if you were dishonest, I would know. I would figure it out some way or another. This is me keeping my word.

Did you think you could get away with it? That you could keep two women oblivious? Maybe you even thought me seeing you with her would get rid of me. That it would keep me contained in heartbreak. A bat in a sparkly bubble, blown by your Kingdom to keep me at bay.