"Remember the day I told you I might leave?" Master asked as he popped another ruby-red rose petal in my mouth. I lay on the sofa, my head on his lap with rose petals sweetening my taste.
"Yes, Master," I responded expressionlessly. The truth was that I would miss him terribly, if he would leave. I didn't mean to sound monotone, I just felt numb. He & I had been together for years, practically inseparable. He'll leave soon. That was an introduction of the subject to come.
"Well," he started stroking my unruly mop of black hair, "I'm leaving tomorrow." Fuck. I didn't want him to leave. Not at all. Who was I without him? I had no real job, no family... no nothing. Just him. If it weren't for him, I'd be dead or eating from a garbage can. Or at an asylum clutching a creepy old doll with missing limbs that I'd call Marilyn my baby. I wrapped an arm around his knees & pressed my cheek against his lap softly. He was all I could love in this dying world.
"You don't really care, do you?" He asked. His hand stopped dead. I cared a lot, I thought. It was better for him to think I had no feelings toward him other than love for a master because he'd dismiss any form of affection directed to him. He needed love but he denied it because he was afraid to lose it in the first place. Part of me wanted to show him what he was missing although I knew better than to hurt myself. Marilyn would be torn to shreds. He'd start hurting before anything romantic happens between us. He'll push me away or Manson would feel confused. Hell would freeze over before he'd allow anyone to be close to him. Heaven would darken before he felt love. I rubbed my knees together & stared endlessly at the dark red walls, feigning not listening. I cared & that was thy I chose to stay away. Don't get too close. It's dark inside. His whole personality screamed just that.
"Answer me," Manson nudged my waist with his elbow gently. Strange, I thought. I expected to be degraded. This was so peculiar of him. Usually, he'd treat me like I was inferior, but he was being somewhat gentle.
"I care about you more than myself, Master. Please don't ever leave." I shifted from my position to look up at him pleadingly. Those words weren't meant to be spoken, not then.
"Don't ever leave me, Master," I repeated after a long while of no response. His eyes bore into mine.
Despite the fact that I showed him a glimpse of my affection, he still didn't respond. Master didn't like it when I showed emotions because he wasn't fond of lovey-dovey bull shit. He was too much of an angry figure, or so he thinks. Besides, in his eyes, I was just his play-toy. I was not worth much to him. I saw Master Manson as a loving, gentle giant who tried too hard to be dominant for his sake. He wasn't a monster as he liked to be perceived. It was all a facade that I had yet to go through. He tried to be as grotesque as possible to prevent anyone from going through to him. Marilyn didn't want anyone to break his fragile heart & that was why he didn't want affection. He was scared to love anyone back. Manson knew someone would get hurt in the end.
It was impossible not to adore him. Every single thing about him... his features, the way he moved, his attitude, his calming voice, his touch, the way he smelled like... everything. Manson didn't have to speak to represent his eloquence. The moment you see him, you just know that he was a strong, well educated man who fought for his opinions. But he was the biggest schmo for not realizing how I truly felt about him.
He didn't respond. He just stared straight ahead with so much emotions swimming in his eyes. Emotions I couldn't read. Damn it, I wish I knew what he was thinking about. Master looked down at me, his eyes glossy. Was he close to tears? Or was he happy? Was he happy he was going to leave me?
"What's wrong?" Master cooed quietly.
"Everything," I muttered.
"I'm so sorry, Jeordie," Master sighed, "really sorry."
Master started stroking my hair once again & I felt his fingertips scrape my scalp. It wasn't as rough as he usually did... it was a bit gentle. It was just right. I sighed loudly with much comfort. Why should this come to an end? I was content the way things were, even if I couldn't have him the way I wanted to.
"Jeordie..." Master breathed out.
"What is it, Master?"
"Marilyn, it's Marilyn Manson," he corrected. I'm not sure if I liked that or not... I was just so used to referring to him as my master. I thought of him using his pseudonym. I wasn't all that submissive to call him with such a name of adoration & power. I had dignity(?). Master, now Marilyn, picked up a second rose. It was adorned with thorns. Thorns that made the blood red rose look more appealing. More passionate. He picked a petal off of the rose & looked at me intently. What does he want? Is he expecting something from me? Master's eyes lit up & he smiled. It's clear to me that he was happy about something. Happy about leaving? That would be mean. Of course, I mean nothing to him but a play thing. It wouldn't be surprising if I meant nothing. Nonetheless, I had feelings for him. Marilyn pressed the petal against my lips gently. Taking that as an offer, I opened my mouth & he pushed the petal inside. The sweet strawberry-like taste enveloped my tongue almost immediately. Generally, roses taste like a rubbery lettuce of some sort. This was different... it felt special. I figured Marilyn had done something to it to make the rose taste the way it did. Most likely to make it up to me or to break me completely by giving me a taste of heaven then taking it away.
Heaven consisted solely of our undying love for each other. It was too good to he true. I was an empty soul. I was nothing without him. Marilyn is everything to me. Marilyn popped another petal into my mouth. And another. And another... until the only thing left of the rose was the thorn-filled stem. Each petal fed to me made my tongue fall into pure bliss. They melted in my mouth like chocolate.
Master lifted my head off his lap & stood up, leaving me on the cold leather couch. I grabbed his hand, entwining our fingers together.
"Don't leave me, Master," I pleaded quietly.
"I have to, you know I have to," Marilyn said whilst looking at me over his shoulder. His expression was full of obvious sympathy... it's not the mock sympathy he'd show me, he was sincere. I could tell. This wasn't my Master... it was somebody else. Marilyn, perhaps? I had no clue. Master tried to go up stairs, but I wasn't letting him go too easily. I wanted him to feel like a jackass & stay. Maybe to come back if he left. I let go of his hand then grabbed him by his thigh with both of my arms.
"Don't leave me," I cried a little louder. It sounded more of an order, though I did not mean for it to be. Master sighed, inching farther. I fell off of the love seat & onto the carpet. The sound my light body made was about as loud as Marilyn's footsteps. I brought my bottom up, wrapping my legs around one of his. I was nothing without him. There was no other reason to live but him. Marilyn was all I could hold on to.
"Don't leave me!" I practically yelled. My grip on his legs grew stronger. My face heated up quickly. I could feel the tears welling in my eyes. I could practically hear the sobs waiting to escape. I was close to breaking down. Really close. Master couldn't leave me. No, not at this state. He has a heart behind that Master side of his. He has a brain as well. He knows I'm suicidal. That's how I became his. He didn't want me to get hurt. But that was a long time ago & this part of our lives was slipping away before our very eyes. It could be that he didn't care anymore & this was his way of ridding himself of me, the suicidal freak.
My head automatically lowered in shame as it dawned on me. Self-scrutiny was my worst nightmare. My tears splattered against the carpet then left dark traces of their existence. I looked at them, feeling pathetic. I was being clingy & vulnerable. Master did not like that at all. Usually he would push me away or flog my ass when I acted accordingly. There would be higher probability that he would leave me. I was all he hated. Petty & clingy. No, no, no, no, no! He couldn't! I heard myself wail, my expression becoming hard to maintain straight. My eyes lidded themselves just enough for Marilyn to see the sticky tears waiting to fall & already swollen eyes. My cheeks were probably rose-red & hot. And when they fell it felt like gasoline against red hot skin.
The waterfall of tears weren't helping at all. I felt so pathetic. So small. So vulnerable. I just hoped Master wouldn't leave me. All I wanted was for him to fuck me senseless then wrap me up in his arms. I don't care if that was all he's after, I needed him. He was my everything. Shallow & desperate, I clung to him.
"Oh, Jeordie..." I heard him say softly. His big, strong hands took mine in his then tugged them off of his legs. He's not fucking leaving me!
"No!" My grip on his leg became deadly & I was wailing harder.
"Don't leave me! Don't leave me! Don't..." I cried, yelling. I sounded much like a child throwing a tantrum. Which wasn't a bad idea because he might've stayed if he felt guilty for abandoning me.
"Sh, calm down, Jeordie," he cooed. One of his strong hands massaged circles on my scalp, calming my wailing down a lot. Still, I was reduced a sniveling mess.
"Master..." I whimpered. I let go of his leg, but only with my arms & hands, not legs.
"Sh, I still have one last thing to do with you before I leave. Isn't that what you like, serving your master? Hm?" Marilyn brushed my hair.
I sniffled, "Yes." I pressed my knuckles into my eye sockets, trying to stop my tears.
"Come on, then," he said before pulling my hands out of my face. I let go of his legs & looked up at him warily. Maybe he was only trying to make me let go so that he can leave me. Master often tricked me into things... so this may or may not have been one of his shenanigans.
His strong arms hauled me up to my feet. Master started walking away, but not to the doors. The rooms. He had nothing on but his leather pants & combat boots, allowing me a glimpse of his well-toned body. His arm muscles flexed with each move. The dim yellow glow of the torch-like lamps mounted on the walls illuminated his body. His bottom stuck out ever so slightly & his pants hung loose, allowing me to see a bit more of his backside. His short black hair bouncing as he moved. God, he looked more beautiful than ever. Perhaps he was only trying to make it harder for me to let go. In that case, he's doing just the right things. Out of the blue, Master stopped to observe me. He eyed me for a minute with an unreadable expression. I could just imagine him frown. He said to follow him, didn't he? I wasn't obeying him... that meant I was a bad slave. I may or may not be punished for that. His expression said otherwise.
"Come, now," he called. I stood still, knowing (or expecting) my punishment.
"Come on," he beckoned. After about a few moments of no response, Master started his short way toward me, his boots making soft thuds against the carpet. Footsteps shouldn't be so loud against the carpet. Only he can make little things look so intimidating. But I wasn't frightened. Not at all. I adored that about him.
Master's features were enhanced by the yellowish glow. His face framed by his short black hair. His lips, oh God, those lips. So plump. So smooth. Funny how he didn't wear his usual lipstick. Just eyeliner. His mouth hung open ever so slightly... they looked so welcoming that I'd kiss them all day if he'd let me. So warm. Warmth... that's what I always searched for. Master provided me warmth. But, no. He'd be leaving soon. Just like everybody else. Oh fuck, since when did he get here? Master cupped my cheeks & wiped away my sticky tears.
"I'm not going to leave anymore," that was what I wanted to hear from him. Unfortunately, it wasn't what he said.
"Jeordie, you know I have to go. I'll be back. I promise," he said. But where was he going? I could go, too. I'd serve him! Anything just to be with my master. I whimpered, not wanting to respond. I mean, I did, but that would make me look more pathetic. That would be undignified. To beg. I pressed on anyway. I beg for a fuck nearly nightly. What dignity did I have to lose?
"If you're coming back, then don't leave me. It's useless," I whined. My eyes slightly widened in shock. I had no privilege to speak, let alone will him.
"I have to leave! I'm coming back, though. Don't worry," Master's voice raised then hushed itself. His strong arms pulled me closer before snaking around my waist. No, he wasn't feeling me up. It was a proper embrace. My face buried itself in Master's Dove scented hair. I used the same shampoo, but he smells way better in it than I did. His hair was surprisingly soft, as far as I could tell. I buried my face on the crook of his neck. Master normally wouldn't oblige to my actions, but this time he seems to have succumbed to my fluffy desires. A warm tinge crept up my cheeks & a smile coursed its way onto my lips as the realization hit me. This wasn't Master. Or Marilyn. Or any of his personas. This was Brian. Sweet & kind hearted. Brian stroked my unruly hair gently. Kitty cat! I bit my bottom lip to keep from giggling. That would spoil the moment and/or earn me a scolding. Master took hold of my hand. I looked up, both curious & fond of this moment. Master flashed me a small smile. Not a toothy grin. A smile. His eyes gleamed brightly. His sweetness & sincerity showed. No, this couldn't have possibly be one of his tricks.
Master- No, Brian- heaved himself up; more so the both of us. He still had my hand in his while the other remained around my waist & on my hip. He stared deeply into my eyes as if he was admiring them. Looking for something, perhaps. Answers if he'd stay? My emotions? His? If he admired me? If he was forcing himself to admire me? I wasn't not sure. But those beautiful orbs of his were simply perfection. It was an honor to have them on me. Even if he was looking down on me, I didn't mind. At least he was looking at me. Brian led me upstairs to our room. Hand in hand in comfortable silence. He laid me down softly on the bed, pulling my dress up slowly. I thought he'd just shove into me & fuck me senseless to see me in pain... but he took his time & made sure I was prepared before he made love to me. This wasn't our typical bondage-type fuck, this was fucking love. It was more like the type you'd see in those chick flicks. No knives, ropes, chains... nothing to restrain me. He allowed me to feel every inch of his flawless skin. It wasn't flawless to others. But to me, it was. Scars & tattoos adorned his body. It made him more beautiful. Made him stand out. I adored that about him. He had kissed every little scab & scar he & I had made on my body as if to heal them. They don't need healing or disappearing. The scars made me his & I was proud of that.
~
Brian's warmth slowly left me. His arms no longer around me- no longer protected me. I whimpered & blinked. My fingers searched for any sign of him behind me. A sign that he hadn't left me yet, that he just shifted to another position. But he wasn't there. Drip. A tear or two had splattered on our blood red pillow case. Everything was still hazy... but I knew even before I woke up that Brian was leaving.
"Brian..." I whimpered. Brian emerged from out of no where. His arm snaked up my waist for his big hand to rest on my shoulder blade. Warmth enveloped me instantly. I didn't know what I felt. My heart had sunk to the pit of my stomach, but I felt warm on the inside. Brian's presence was overwhelming.
Brian pressed his lips onto mine into a chaste kiss. They were soft, inviting, warm. But he had to pull away. He eyed me for a moment. His brow furrowed & his eyes became glossy. Was he really sorry for having to leave me? Or was he just sympathetic?
"I love you," Brian said as he pulled away completely. His arm fell limp, no longer strong. It dragged away from me as he stood up. Brian slowly walked away toward the door. No... His fingers wrapped around the door knob. He's taunting me. Brian glanced over his shoulder, door knob in hand, eyes glossed & blood shot. I gasped. Master cared? So it seemed. I opened my mouth to speak, but he left too soon. The door clicked shut behind him. My vision immediately clouded with tears, a loud sob escaping my chapped lips.
"Master..." I wailed, "come back." I choked on a sob just to hear him enter the room again. But, the only thing I heard was his loud footsteps echoing down the hall, down the stairs, & fading out through the door. His car's engine roared to life. I heard his tires scrape the gravel on the driveway, speeding away for possibly eternity. Away from me. I let out the loud sob I've been holding in, followed by a series of whimpers, sobs, sniffles, & a few mentions of his name.
I felt immensely tired from crying, so tired that tears no longer streamed down my cheeks, that my crying was no longer loud. I shut my eyes, missing Brian immediately & practically praying for him to come back. If he were here, he'd wrap me up in those strong arms of his & tell me everything will be just fine. He'd reassure me with sweet nothings, I love you's, & everything nice. I smiled, remembering when he had saved me for the first time.
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