The Pain Of Love

She lay on the bed, sweat still trickling down her face, in glorious nakedness. She lay, out of breath and lost in thought, on the bed, the all too familiar bed that held a thousand memories. They held memories she cherished and despised; memories of when the sun was high in the sky and the birds were chirping in the trees, memories of when the rain fell and the gales ripped through trees in violent turbulence.

They held memories of the man that lay beside her.

She watched his chest rise and fall with his breathing, a quiet snore escaping from his nostrils. She watched the beads of sweat that had formed on his chest slide down his sides. She refrained from trailing the lines with her finger.

In that moment, at that time, she was happy.

It was the type of happiness she knew she had to soak in, the type of happiness that could disappear at a snap. It was a fragile type of happiness that could shatter at any given moment; the happiness that came around when her beast became a prince.

He was a prince now; a soulful passionate prince that led her to depths of pleasure she never knew existed. He was HER prince. She knew the beast still lurked within, but she was content to wallow in the depths of his passion, his pleasure, his love.


Of course he loved her. She knew that for a fact. Why else would he take the time to correct her bad behaviours? He loved her so he beat her, to correct her, to help her become a better person. She was sure of this. Besides telling her every time after he beat her, she could feel his love when he made up with her. He was always gentle, carefully avoiding all the swollen parts of her, kissing it gently when he could. He loved her so he kissed her bruised jaw. He loved her so he kissed her black eye. He loved her so he kissed her burst lips.




She winced as the throbbing in her head resumed; a painful reminder that he loved her. That he’d beat her to show his affection. The pleasure was gone, the pain of love was returning. She closed her eyes and embraced it, drifting off into sleep, ready for the next time.


Categories Short Stories

2 thoughts on “The Pain Of Love

  1. interesting take on abuse, still abuse non the less


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