HUNDRED HITS BACK IN LA MANCHA now is on my side. Sweet and submissive as a little animal, always loving, always ready and willing. She looks at me with her big green eyes, and sometimes gets me forget everything. That makes it very well, always has been. She sits in the floor, curled up between my legs and rubbing her nose against my knee. It only takes a small white panties. From my position I can see her teenage body elastic. I like shrugs and stretches her long legs, slowly, very slowly. I see how your breathing makes raising and lowering her small breasts, I see your neck on my thighs, given to me, meek and defeated. Smells like fresh air, clean hair and sex. It excites me, makes up cloud my understanding. She knows. He knows it and uses it against me.
I tried to get away from it. I have tried by all means, but I always return to his side. Dominated by desire, overcome by the taste of your body. Today has done it again. Came to my house at night with dirty clothes and wild hair. Its huge eyes begged my pardon. He said nothing, not needed. He had brought back the darkness in my life. When he saw me take the belt, smiled, slowly stripped and humbled himself before me. On all fours on the floor, endured his punishment without complaint. I was brutal as ever. Download hundred blows on his back as he spent most cruel insults. It was brutal, brutal and useless. After I left on the floor. Curled like a cat. Inert. Then I undressed and made love. While I was licking his wounds, she swore not to do it again. For a moment I thought, maybe I thought the thought, or certainly knew that I was mistaken, but I did not care. Has ceased to matter what I do. For monstrous that I may seem, is as abhorrent as he does love her, or maybe just the desire, but if so, the desire for a terrible shape. In one way absorbing, illogical, inhumane. She is the same. That's why it pays to my stupid penalties. So let that fool you into my consciousness with the illusion that I can correct it. As if you could delete the impulses of an animal, as if he could cure the hard way.
I'm stroking her back. My fingers run through the signs of his punishment. She purrs. He knows he has won again. Knows that morning again let her into my house, and that punishing him for his sins again, and again to make love like two animals, oblivious to everything, debased and savage. And I know that before all that happens, she will kill again, and the death of another innocent fall upon my conscience. Do it again because your instinct tells you to, and I will not do anything to stop it, just pray that someone will stop his feet and an end to this darkness that surrounds me.
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