“Breathe, kitten.”
She wasn’t an innocent when she first met Him. Awkard, perhaps, and slightly gullible. She did not know what she was getting into when she first said, yes. But she knew this was not the same as her past encounters, and, yes, conquests. So she opened herself, in a way she had not, and said, yes. After that–
He did not use rope to bind her, merely words. But, oh, the power captured in a word! The words stay with her, always. They protect her. She hears them, even when they do not come from him. They are an ever present reminder to breathe, listen, pull back from the demons within her.
“Embrace your submission, Kitten.”
He speaks the word her mind is trained to receive. It’s warmth spreads through her entire being. It used to take time, of course, but now the body accepts it, naturally, as part of itself. Oh, yes, she instinctively fights the compulsion, but the rebellion never lasts long. The feeling is not an unwelcome intrusion, but a precious element that taints her veins. Her body convulses in a violent acceptance.
They say it is corruption, but she understands that it heals her. She’s absorbed the corruption as vital for her body’s survival. Soothing, calming, as her breath quiets and stabilizes, rocking her into a gentle sleep.
“It feels good, doesn’t it, Kitten?”
When she wakes up, his presence remains a constant. His arms wrapped around her, a breath of a kiss on her forehead. Corruption should not feel like a blanket, but she would rather have his words wrap around her than any soft fleece.
And, once more, reassured, she falls into a dark quiet, where troublesome spirits wait to visit her with their usual assortment of odd dreams.