flatmanbe
11-12-2002, 2:04 AM
She told me that so far I had pleased her and that there was still a place for me in her life, although she stressed that it wasn't over yet, she wanted to test my endurance to the limit and, at this point, she came even closer to me and whispered her intentions. She described how I must be able to endure ten stamps of her boot on my face, that she would not hold back or consider the consequences, and that I must not at any time show any resistance or attempt to protect myself. She looked at me in silence for a few seconds, trying to let this sink in and to spot any sign of weakness from me, allowing me time to understand the brutality of what was about to happen, the fact that my already tortured face was about to endure unimagined treatment from her boots.
Again my silence was taken as a signal for her to continue, I could not find the words to indicate to her that stamping on my face was an acceptable thing to do, who of sane mind would, but I also knew it was somehow inevitable. She slowly stood straight and looked down at me, this time not smiling though, I think even she realized the seriousness of what she was about to do. She positioned her right boot over my face once again, and held it there about twelve inches above me. One hand on the car door for balance, she took one more look at me and then looked away, into the distance, as if to show her utter indifference to me, or was it that she simply could not bear to look. Suddenly the boot came down hard and viscously onto my face, she was not holding back, as she had promised, and I'm sure the very first blow broke by nose in several places. The stamping continued, mouth, nose, cheeks, nothing was spared beneath the onslaught of her boots. My face would soon be a collage of broken bones, dirt and blood. At first I was counting after each blow was struck, but after three or four times I was losing the ability to think clearly and even the pain became more of a dull and distant ache, almost an "out of body experience". I looked up at her through a mist of tears and blood, she was still looking into the distance, indicating to me there was no particular technique to her stomps, no plan to smash my nose with heel or sole, it just happened as it happened. I'm sure my nose took the full impact directly under her heel at least three times, and it was conceivable that every bone in my nose was being smashed to pieces. My left eye also took the brunt of her heel on one occasion and immediately my vision in that eye was reduced to a film of red blood. I vaguely remember thinking at the time; it cannot be possible that Tina was doing this to me, to be doing something so dangerous and with such possible dire consequences. I eventually passed out, perhaps after the sixth or seventh smash. After several minutes I came round and turned my head slowly to the right, where she was sitting on the bonnet of the car and smoking a cigarette. I could barely turn my head, such was the pain, but I could see that her boot still adorned the blood and skin from my face, and at that moment, despite the immense pain and serious damage she had inflicted, I crawled slowly and agonisingly over to her and started to lick her boot clean, licking my own blood and skin from the sole of her boot, I was so hungry and desperate to please her that I would let her do anything to me and she knew it.
She told me later that, after the sixth or seventh smash to my face, even though I passed out, she continued to stamp on me until reaching ten; after all, that was the arrangement. I was in a mess for several weeks after this and my nose will never quite get back to its original shape. We never really talked about it afterwards in any detail, but that day both of our lives had changed and I understood the role that I must play, and I was happy.
Again my silence was taken as a signal for her to continue, I could not find the words to indicate to her that stamping on my face was an acceptable thing to do, who of sane mind would, but I also knew it was somehow inevitable. She slowly stood straight and looked down at me, this time not smiling though, I think even she realized the seriousness of what she was about to do. She positioned her right boot over my face once again, and held it there about twelve inches above me. One hand on the car door for balance, she took one more look at me and then looked away, into the distance, as if to show her utter indifference to me, or was it that she simply could not bear to look. Suddenly the boot came down hard and viscously onto my face, she was not holding back, as she had promised, and I'm sure the very first blow broke by nose in several places. The stamping continued, mouth, nose, cheeks, nothing was spared beneath the onslaught of her boots. My face would soon be a collage of broken bones, dirt and blood. At first I was counting after each blow was struck, but after three or four times I was losing the ability to think clearly and even the pain became more of a dull and distant ache, almost an "out of body experience". I looked up at her through a mist of tears and blood, she was still looking into the distance, indicating to me there was no particular technique to her stomps, no plan to smash my nose with heel or sole, it just happened as it happened. I'm sure my nose took the full impact directly under her heel at least three times, and it was conceivable that every bone in my nose was being smashed to pieces. My left eye also took the brunt of her heel on one occasion and immediately my vision in that eye was reduced to a film of red blood. I vaguely remember thinking at the time; it cannot be possible that Tina was doing this to me, to be doing something so dangerous and with such possible dire consequences. I eventually passed out, perhaps after the sixth or seventh smash. After several minutes I came round and turned my head slowly to the right, where she was sitting on the bonnet of the car and smoking a cigarette. I could barely turn my head, such was the pain, but I could see that her boot still adorned the blood and skin from my face, and at that moment, despite the immense pain and serious damage she had inflicted, I crawled slowly and agonisingly over to her and started to lick her boot clean, licking my own blood and skin from the sole of her boot, I was so hungry and desperate to please her that I would let her do anything to me and she knew it.
She told me later that, after the sixth or seventh smash to my face, even though I passed out, she continued to stamp on me until reaching ten; after all, that was the arrangement. I was in a mess for several weeks after this and my nose will never quite get back to its original shape. We never really talked about it afterwards in any detail, but that day both of our lives had changed and I understood the role that I must play, and I was happy.