Against the Gods

Persephone groaned as she woke up for the second time with immense pain. Her head felt like it had been cracked open and when she touched her back of her skull, it was matted with blood. Her forehead was bruised and tender. She felt horrible and the pain was unbearable. Oh, fuck, she cursed mentally. Rubbing her temples, Persephone looked around. The light in the room had been turned off, leaving her in pitch black. Her eyes could just barely make out shapes within the confines of the room. How long had she been out?

Slowly, Persephone rose to her feet, trying to fight the dizziness and the shooting pain as she did. She stumbled for a moment, the chain feeling strange around her leg. Oh gods, what sort of mess was she in? Cautiously, she sought out the cup of water. When she eventually found it, Persephone desperately gulped it down as it soothed her parched throat. It was cool and fresh and she realized, refilled. Not bearing to stand any more, she collapsed on the bed as her head throbbed wildly. Again she drifted back to sleep before waking up to a sharp light snapping on with no clear warning. Persephone did not know how much time had passed again. Through squinting eyes, she watched the door as it slowly opened again.

“I see you woke up,” Samuel commented at her new position on the bed. Persephone turned her back to him angrily. The son of a bitch head-butted her unconscious, there was no fucking way she was going to be friendly. She could sense him entering the room and kneeling next to her. Persephone did not move a muscle and just lay very still. His fingers were in her hair, massaging her scalp. It felt good, she had to admit. Until his fingers tighten and grabbed a fist full of her thick hair. Persephone sharply took a breath as the pain exploded in her head. He forcefully pulled her into a sitting position on her knee, facing him. The first thing she noticed was the whip on his legs.

“No. No. It is time to get up, darling. You been asleep for almost an entire day.”

“I am not your darling,” Persephone panted in pain, struggling to get out of his grasp. His grip tightened and ran the edge of the whip across her face. Every muscle in her body tensed and froze. Persephone licked her lips nervously as her eyes watched the whip skim under her chin. “Wha…what…are you going to do with that?”

“I am going to teach you a lesson.” Persephone’s lips twitched into a weak smile as he caressed the whip against the opposite cheek.

“You…you…do not want to do that, right? You do not want to hurt me, right,” she asked, panic making her voice rise a few octaves. For a moment, he said nothing and she could feel the whip tremble next to her skin before he raised it and snapped it across her back. Persephone screamed as it sliced her skin and burned a gash across her back. Persephone curled up as she sobbed but did not cry. A trail of warm blood trickled down her skin. Samuel lifted up her head by her chin, making her stare straight into his eyes. His lips curved into a small, triumphant smile. The whip was raised behind him, ready to strike again. Persephone trembled as fear gripped deep within her belly. Samuel leaned forward and very tenderly kissed his quivering lips.

“Did I hurt you, my darling?”

“You bastard! AH-YEE-HE,” Persephone shrieked as the whip came in contact with her shoulder. She fell on her stomach, shuddering in pain, with her hands over her head and the chain under her. Samuel stood up and walked around her, very slowly as if he was trying to find the perfect spot to beat her from. After a moment, the whip whistled and nipped into her exposed back. Her scream was earth-shattering and she felt tears fill her eyes.

“Why are you doing this? Are you crazy? Have you just completely lost it?”

“I am quite sane but I have lost it. I am in love. Nothing matters now,” he replied in a very calm and matter-of-fact tone.

“So you call kidnapping a girl and beating her sane? You could have fooled me.” Crack! Crack! He snapped the whip twice, making perfect contact with her skin. Persephone winced and inhaled harshly. Not a good idea to talk back, she thought. Shaking, Persephone pushed herself to her knees, feeling streams of blood spilling down her back. She was in so much pain. It shot through every inch of her. She hated pain. She was going to make this son of a bitch pay. She had to do something. The whip came down again but this time he did not hit her. It came close but it never made any contact with her body. Persephone rose to her feet, stumbling as the wounds opened more. Samuel watched her every move, breathing very heavily.

“Get back down.”

“No.” Snap! The whip cracked into her other shoulder and caused her to stumble but she did not fall. He lifted the whip again and her hands went up.
“No, Wait. You love me, right?”

“I do,” he said, suspiciously, lowering his hand slightly. Persephone rose back on her feet with her hands outstretched. Okay, he was listening.

“Well. You don’t cause the person you love pain, right? That is not love, it is sick and cruel and sadistic.”

“Love is not always going to be kind, Arista. Love also is cruel and sadistic. It tortures you until you cannot breath or eat or think.” He was not giving in, she realized. Even though he was not cracking his whip, his muscles were tense and ready. She had to try something else. So she stepped toward him,

“You speak from personal experience, I see.” Be sympathetic, do not lose your cool, she instructed. It had started to work before. Now, one step, another, and another. His eyes were on her and only her. Samuel did not move at all as she little by little made her way to him. Each step brought a bolt of pain striking through her back. She felt the blood trickle uncomfortably through her shirt. History was repeating its self but this time, neither had control of the other. If convincing him would not work then she was going to try a different approach. When Persephone was close enough, she counted to three and rushed at him with all her strength. Samuel stumbled backwards but he was way too tall and strong for her to knock him down. Her hands were reaching for the whip, clawing at him desperately. She had to get it. She had to stop the abuse. She…

Persephone froze as Samuel’s knee came in contact with her belly. The air was knocked out of her. She felt as if she was drowning as she gasped for breath and retreated backwards. Samuel took no time to waste and cracked the whip along her backside. He did it again and again and again with such steady fierceness that Persephone had not time to catch her breath. She was on her knees now, choking and gasp and cringing all at once. Blood was gushing down her back and was covered in deep, angry gashes. Samuel’s abuse finally stopped and Persephone finally was able to breath through her sobs. She was crying now. Tears streaming down her face. Her body was on fire; her whole being was in pain. She felt as if she was going to die. A cool cloth caressed her head as she gripped her sore stomach.

“Shhhh. Do not cry, Arista. The pain will lessen eventually.” His skillfully fingers brushed her red cheeks as new tears spilled from her soaked eyes. Oh shut up, she wanted to say but she could barely breath correctly to speak. He cleaned her face with such tenderness, it was like had not been beating her just a few minutes before. Persephone felt his fingers gingerly touch her gashes and then he was gone. Persephone sobbed miserably and tried to move. All she could do was pathetically crawl over to the mattress. What had she done to attract such a dangerous suitor? She had made it her mission not to attract anyone but how did she attract him? Why was he doing this to her?

Persephone did not get it. All she could do was crawl toward the mattress, seeking something that would be comfortable. Samuel retuned with a dripping towel, bandages and medicine. Persephone found it was hard for her to move. Everything was on fire and she could not stop trembling and sobbing. Her mind had gone numb and she vaguely was aware of what was going on around her as Samuel removed her tattered shirt and bra. Normally she would be livid is someone tried to undress her. Now, it did seem to be her biggest concern. It amazed her in those several minutes drifting in and out of consciousness how gentle Samuel was. His fingers were deft and skilled as her bandaged her wounds. He was very careful as he took care of her, offering loving words of solace and all she could think was when would this end.

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She fell asleep in his arms. That was all the he could think about. She had been drifting in and out so much; he had begun to wonder if she would ever get to sleep. Now Arista was silently snoring in his arms. Gods, she was so beautiful. He cradled her in his arms and rocked her. Hades felt like crying. It had hurt so much to hear her cry and watch her flawless back being mutilated all at his hands. It had nearly killed him to see her shrivel and tremble and cry. He began to question himself. Could he really put her through that pain? Was it worth it to know he was hurting the one he loved or was the outcome of complete submission to much to let go? In the end, he found himself utterly turned on and could not stop. It had been so incredibly intense; he would have beaten her for hours.

And when she attacked him. He was surprised she even pushed herself to stand. Gods, his pants could not have gotten any tighter. The feel of her nails on his skin was too much to bear. At first he thought she was trying to seduce him again, make him stop and put down the whip. Then she rushed him and tried to grab for the whip. If he had not kicked her, he would have let her have it if she just continued to scratch him. Hades pressed his lips against the bruised on her forehead and unlatched her clamp. Yet she had been good and let him whip her, that she deserved a reward. Hades lifted her up and carried her toward his bed.

He laid her down, trying to be careful so her wounds would not wake her. His bed was soft and comfortable compared to the mattress. Hades gradually tucked her under the down blanket and brushed her hair away from her eyes. She would be in great pain in the morning. Tomorrow, he would re-bandage her wounds and give her some medicine to dull the pain. Until her strength returned, he would pamper her. If she got out of line…well…there were other forms of punishment that did not require physical pain. Reward and punishment was the key to submission and he was going to use it until Arista was his.