An even game

He was a man made of shadow, of mist. It was so hard to pin him down, find out at least one fact about him, that he seemed almost like a ghost to her. Each question he answered raised ten additional ones but with no chance for a follow-up. And the harder he was to grasp, the more desperate she was to uncover his truth. In the end, she was a mathematician and throughout her life unsolvable equations were what was keeping her up at night. And recently, it was his countless unknown variables that were depriving her of her sleep.

At the same time, there was nothing more straightforward, nothing more clear-cut and undeniable than the look in his cold eyes telling her “you are mine”. At that sight, she knew that she would give him everything, even if he didn’t reveal any of his secrets to her. She belonged to him, even though she was not even sure if he was real. She was, however, and she was his. It was as obvious as a lipstick imprint on a wine glass.

To him, there was nothing mysterious about her, even though they have only just met a couple of times. He could, however, already see through her like through a piece of cellophane. He could read every thought and emotion on her face as if she was writing it for him on paper. Maybe even clearer. Her expressions could tell him what she herself was not even aware of. Of course, he didn’t know many details about her life yet but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that he could know them if he wanted to. And he already knew most of the things that interested him.

Even though she was so easy to read, she was not a simple girl. On the contrary - she seemed like a rather complex person. The depths of despair that she was capable of reaching and the ease with which she could go there and then come back were rather impressive. She wanted to be destroyed and she wanted to be broken. The role of the victim was what she was auditioning for. And that was what he found so challenging and fascinating about her at the same time.

It was one thing to break a submissive who was devoted to him out of love, to make her suffer in the name of her feelings and use her devotion against her to satisfy his cruelty. It was entirely another to make one who actually wants to be broken regret her desires, to give her what she wants and then put a mirror in front of her and make her realise what it made of her - despicable, low creature, something less than a human. And then - make her want to be a human again. Oh no - that was an entirely different endeavour. One that he hasn't embarked on with anyone before. And he could feel that with her it was going to be a delight. Even without, or maybe especially, without her knowing.

Of course, she was not aware of his thinking. But she could sense that what he had in mind for her was not going to be pleasant. She could sense that he was not simply going to play according to her rules. He was not going to break her as in her beloved psychodramas, while she would stay the director. Oh no. He was actually going to break her, she felt. And that feeling made her paralysed with fear and desire. He was not an evil man but he was a man who had read her mind. And the fact that he was still here after having done that was alarming. No sane person would stay after seeing what lived inside her head. Yet here he was.

Should she run? Stupid question. Of course that she should run but it was already too late for that. Both he and she have smelled her blood.

To be continued…