I dress your wounds — Self-harm trigger warning — Microfiction

I dress your wounds – *SH Trigger Warning*

I dress your wounds as you cry from the razor races you
made across your thighs and arms just to feel something.

You feel so ashamed but stopped feeling so long ago that
each bloody furrow upon your skin finally moved senses.

You finally let down your defenses to let me inside your
mind. I dress your chi. Soul. Spirit. Inner self. Lovingly
I lay the gauze down after cleaning with the peroxide. So
afraid of my words but you didn’t know what else to do or
where else to go. I never chastise you and this time is no
exception.

I am your personal empath who feels you deeper than you
feel yourself in these moments of time of minutes, hours,
days, weeks, months, years. You felt so alone but I never
left you because I knew one day you would need this safe
place to release all that you are to mend your brokenness.

I told you I would never let you hurt yourself. You were
afraid to admit that you continued and feared rejection. I
told you I would never reject you and I keep that promise
now. I hold you in my arms close. Closer than anyone in
your life ever has. I feel how fragile you are in your
spheres of being – corporeal, mental, psychological,
emotional and energy. I give you safe harbor feeling all
that ceased to make you feel so very long ago because of
your perpetual sadness and depression.

You never knew what you needed to finally feel and get
total release from your terrors. Horrors. Pain. I do. I
whisper into your ear that I will protect you but all I
hear are your sobs in return. Slowly I grasp your long
hair in my hand tight and firm then I hear a slight gasp
of pain fall from your lips.

You will not cut yourself any longer. I will not let you
mark yourself that way. But I will help you feel and
satiate that blissful need for release. You whimper as I
pull your hair tighter within my fingers. I pull your face
to mine and I gently kiss your tears away. I have been
your confidant for so long but you could never feel
anything for me for you could not feel anything but pain.
I have felt enough for both of us. Tonight, I give your
ability to feel slowly more than just darkness.

Without questioning you undress yourself as I tell you so
easily lead by the thinnest of direction. I see scars from
other wounds still healing and long since healed. You are
broken for now but I will give you the power to repair.

I tell you to lay upon my lap upon the sofa and I pull
your hair tight as I pinch your buttocks. I tell you that
I will give you the pain only on my terms. I pull your
hair tight in my hand and being to slap your ass slowly,
gently, gauging your reaction. I hear your breathing and
gasps of crying mixed together slowly then soft mews blend
in.

Your hips gently, almost imperceptivity rise up to
meet my hand with each contact. Gradually I have your head
pulled tensioned with my hand of your long locks. I hear
your mews change to moans and labored breathing with each
firm landing of my firm ass-focused attention. I savor how
your skin turns from light rose tone to a healthy warm
red. I admire my work as you writhe up more to meet my
hand.

I feel your wetness coating my hand with each smack.
Firmer on your ass. Lingering longer. Lovingly caressing
the heat I lavish upon your buttocks. I build your
treatment up gradually until you beg for more. With each
smack I linger longer upon your hungry cunt slit after
each repetition. I make you beg. I make you plead. I will
not release you yet. It has been so long since you felt
more than pain and sadness, I will make this build until
you cannot bear it.

I keep you so close to your apex, right at the edge
between not yet ready and toward the downward rush. You
moan plaintively for more, beg so hard, throatily,
breathlessly for release. I deny you. I deny you. I deny
you. As time flows by this night I make you ride this
razor’s edge between pain and pleasure because I make you
want this over cutting self-harm. I want you to crave a
new drug that only I can give you with my firm touch.

I make you enter new headspace, sexspace, sensualspace,
subspace. I feel your body respond to my touch and my
words. I tell you that you are mine. I tell you that you
are lovely to me. I tell you that I will not let you be
alone. You begin to cry. You whimper. You mew. Your cunt
drips arousal like a river. You strain for more. More.
More. I tease your clit. Pinch it. Caress it. Tease it.
Pinch it. Filling your cunt with my fingers. I command you
to fuck my hand and cum for me. You rut my hand like the
razor blade that I forbid you. You take my hand to your
body like that cutting need that will not bleed you.

Higher I hear you moan. Deeper you push my hand within
your needful pussy. You beg me to pull your hair harder. I
make you ride this razor of pleasure until I hear you find
that point where you cannot hold back the sensations. I
feel you crash your cunt upon my hand. I feel your pussy
spasms as you come for me. Over. And over. And over. And.
Over. Again. Spent after orgasmic waves I feel you come
down from my loving razor ride. I pull you close in my
arms and cover you with a blanket carrying you to bed. Our
bed now. Your safe place with me.

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