Beyond the Pale Contest

Title: En Pointe

Pen Name: Wombat Kat

Characters: Bella, Edward

Disclaimer: Twilight and all related content belong to Stephenie Meyer.

This is not the way a functional BDSM relationship operates. If you're interested, then do some real research on the topic. FanFic has no bearing on real life.

There is some really squicky content here. I've pushed a few people's limits. If you can't handle it, close the window now.

Image that Inspired You: #16 Ballet Slippers on the Bed.

To see other entries in the Beyond the Pale Contest, please visit the C2 page:

www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/community/Beyond_the_Pale_Contest_Entries/83159/

A/N: Thanks to my beta, MaleficentKnits, my ballet beta, moderndancemama, and my prereader, Aleighy for making this squicky little fic possible.

From Wiki:

En pointe (pointe) means "on the tips of the toes" and is a part of classical ballet technique made possible by specially reinforced shoes called pointe shoes or toe shoes.

I walked through the student union with my sausage biscuit and the iron rich protein shake that I had to drink every morning. My first class had already started and I needed to find a place to lay low until it let out. He had a way of being everywhere. I wondered if all vampires did that.

"Bella," Edward's sweet, velvety voice flowed into my ear, his breath tickling the hair on the back of my neck. Speak of the devil. I was paralyzed with fear and a much more decadent longing. I wanted this man even though he scared me.

"Yes?" I breathed my one word answer carefully. He was angry. I could feel it in his stance.

"You aren't in class," his whisper turned into a low growl. I could feel the vibration of his voice all the way down my spine. It settled around my tail bone and did delicious things elsewhere.

"It's too late to go in. Professor Jones locks the door at five after," I answered quietly, knowing full well that this excuse would not be accepted. I tried to step away and his arm quickly shot around my waist, holding me to him.

School was something that Edward was very insistent upon. I would attend college and I would do well, or there would be consequences which were generally maddening and painful. He wanted vampiric perfection out of me, a lowly human.

I hadn't intended to skip class, but it happened. It was a failure of some form on my part no matter how it occurred. I was only allowed to miss if it was at his bidding. I would surely be losing my truck in addition to whatever punishment he devised. I'd have to ride with him every morning.

His finger trailed over my ear, down my cheek, then the corner of my chin, to the soft skin of my neck. It would take so little pressure for him to break the skin. He'd done it before. He scratched the surface and sucked on the tiny nick.

"Just a taste," he murmured into my neck. "We only have a little time to enjoy this."

I winced at the pain of his fingernail dragging through flesh. When I first came to be his pet I tried to fight it when he caused me pain. I learned over time that accepting it, and riding the pain like a wave in the ocean, was less traumatic. I even grew to enjoy it sometimes.

His lips closed over the incision. It was just behind my ear, easily hidden by my hair. I writhed unintentionally and his hand seized my wrists, pinning them close to my body. He pressed his body down on mine to still any motion.

In this position I could feel him. I could feel his reaction to my soft, warm body, and my blood. He was hardening against my thigh. I'd never felt him like that before. I gasped, and he bucked his hips slightly.

I moaned as I felt my body temperature rising. He was freezing cold but I was searing hot. I felt like my wrists should melt his icy flesh. My heart rate increased and it was his turn to moan. My blood was flowing faster and closer to the surface. He ground into me harder. My breath started to come in short panting bursts.

Edward readjusted his body carefully, never breaking contact between his lips and my neck. He settled his hips over mine and parted my legs with his.

"Oh shit!" I cried. It was too much. His unyielding body applied so much more pressure than I'd ever felt. He gently rocked his pelvis and I could feel something building. I was uncomfortable, my body squirmed underneath him, but he kept me down. I had no control.

"Stop. Stop. Stop," I chanted.

He didn't. The uncomfortable sensation deep in my stomach grew. I recognized what it was as I felt myself come apart. This is what an orgasm was supposed to feel like. I'd always wondered what the big deal about sex was. Jake and I had done it but I'd never felt that. With Jake things were nice, sweet, gentle. Intimacy was soothing. He always made love to me. This was a different animal entirely. I wondered what it would feel like to have Edward...

"We're going home now." He turned me around and led me to his car. My legs trembled. I knew that this could be very bad. He was quite angry and that didn't bode well for any form of enjoyable torment. If I was lucky, and took my punishment well, then perhaps he would feel inclined to reward me later. That was a big "if."

I never knew how Edward would react to a given situation. He was so mercurial that his mood swings gave me whiplash. He was pleased when I was obedient – which wasn't often – unless he wanted me to fight. The problem being that I never knew when he wanted me to fight and when I was to submit. Being the pet of a moody vampire could fuck with a girl's mind.

I hadn't always been a pet. I was loved in a much more reasonable, traditional way before. Jake was gentle and kind and really too nice to be taken seriously. We were together for most of our young lives, but one couldn't force imprinting. Everyone expected it to happen, but it never did.

Meanwhile, Edward watched me. He lurked in the forest around Forks, Washington, waiting for the right time. He was initially sent to spy on the Quilluete tribe for his masters in Italy. When the Volturi attacked, he was the one who negotiated the truce between vampires and werewolves. He asked for something a little extra – me. Aro allowed the indulgence, and Sam grudgingly agreed with my consent.

"There is no way in hell that you're going through with this, Bells!" Jacob roared in protest.

I was fastening the catch on my cloak. Edward had sent clothes for his new toy to wear. I laughed at the virginal white. Surely he didn't think that he was getting a virgin. He was going to be sorely disappointed.

I turned from the window and laid a hand on Jacob's cheek.

"I will do what must be done." It was the same thing that I'd said to him hundreds of times before. There was no future for us. I wasn't his imprint, and the tribe wouldn't allow him to marry me. The best I could be was his mistress.

The situation was never ideal. I seemed to be doomed to a life I didn't want either way, but at least if I went with Edward then my friends would be safe. It was better this way.

Jacob dutifully led me to the treaty line. It was too dark for me to see across "no mans land" to the side with the vampires. I dropped his hand and bravely stepped forward. The dewy grass soaked my satin slippers. I could feel mud squish around them and cake into the hem of the long cloak and dress. I tripped once and caught myself with my hands on the ground. I rose and resumed my march into the unknown.

I reached Edward. His disapproval of my appearance was readily apparent. I also made another mistake; I looked him in the eye. He growled and slapped me hard across the cheek. I didn't taste blood but I could feel the bruise forming under the surface of my skin.

"Have you no manners?" he growled. "You will learn to respect me and my things."

I blinked at him, not comprehending his words. Within moments I was whisked into a car, strapped in and driven at incredible speed to the Cullen mansion. He dragged me from the car by my upper arm, into the house, up the stairs, and into a room – his room perhaps.

"I'm without proper facilities to punish you here, so we'll make do," he grumbled. "Strip."

Strip? I cringed at the thought of what he was going to do to me. I hesitated.

"Isabella, you'll find that my patience is very thin. It would behoove you to obey my orders quickly and without question." He moved behind me so quickly that I couldn't track his movements. He shoved his hand into the intricately pinned curls at the back of my head and pulled – hard. "You will disrobe before these filthy clothes stain my carpet."

He shoved my head down and released my hair. My fingers shook on the clasp to the cloak. I didn't fare much better with the zipper at the back of the white dress. I got it down far enough to slide it off. My slip and underwear remained. I thought that I was undressed.

"The rest," he ordered from across the room. The sounds of popping and ripping accompanied his voice. I fought with my bladder and begged it not to void in fear. Whatever he was doing didn't sound good. I pulled off my slip slowly. It was snug and caught around my breasts. When I'd tugged it over my head I removed my underwear and unclasped my bra, allowing it to slide down my arms.

I was completely bare, alone in a room with an angry vampire and I didn't know what to expect.

Perhaps a lifetime as Jacob's mistress, waiting for him to imprint one day and leave me wouldn't have been so tragic. I would have been treated well for whatever time I had before being discarded. This, on the other hand, seemed like a very unhealthy situation that I'd gotten into. I reminded myself that I was doing this for more than just me. My sacrifice cemented the agreement and would save the pack.

My arms were crossed over my chest. My body shook.

He was next to me again.

"Arms."

I held them out to him. In the briefest of moments my wrists were tightly wrapped together in some sort of black cable – a power cord. It bit into my skin. He left a tail on the end and used it to jerk my body forward to the couch. He shoved me face first over the back. I was barely tall enough for my toes to touch the ground. The leather was smooth and soft, it felt nice on my skin. I relaxed for a fraction of a second. Something hard settled over the backs of my knees. It held me in place. The edge was uncomfortable.

"You will receive ten lashes for sullying your clothes, and another ten for looking me in the eye," he whispered into my ear. "If you cry, I will add more. Count."

I was already on the verge of tears before he started. They pricked at the corners of my eyes. I had never been struck by anyone before, and I was afraid.

He started without any further warning. Whatever he'd fashioned to strike me with was thin and flexible. It cut into my flesh and stung.

"One." By some miracle I managed to keep my composure until we reached six.

"Six," I sobbed. I couldn't hold it back any more. My bum and legs felt like they were on fire.

By ten I could barely hold still; the soft leather of the couch held no comfort. At fifteen he put his knee into my back to hold me down. He was hard and cold. Twenty came out as a croak from deep in my throat. I couldn't count any further. He continued without me. I passed out before the end.

There were several more beatings like that for minor infractions. Over time I learned not to look at him, not to speak unless spoken to. I learned to kneel and beg and plead.

It had been almost a year and punishments changed. I was mostly punished for clumsiness and tardiness. He'd also gotten more creative.

When he collected my personal effects from my father he found a pair of toe or pointe shoes. Renee and Charlie both insisted that I continue ballet lessons even though they never seemed to affect my clumsy nature. No matter how much grace and class they tried to inject into my life, I was still awkward.

I could see the gleam in Edward's eyes as he had me explain the shoes. It was one of the rare occasions when I was forced to look at him while I spoke. Whenever Edward felt like I was lying to him I had to let him see my eyes. I couldn't keep any secrets. He didn't believe that the shoes belonged in my bag, but the prospect of forcing me to wear them thrilled him. I would almost rather that he whipped me. The shoes were torture devices. I'd mistakenly let that slip from the recesses of my mind. The comment came out like word vomit, and I couldn't take it back. Suddenly, he felt that it was appropriate for his pet to dance.

He signed me up for private lessons and he watched as I tried and failed time and time again. Failure was of course punished with a spanking after the lesson. It was milder than the whip but still painful. However, I started to like it. The waves of pain cresting and falling brought on euphoric feelings. The more he did it, the more pleasurable it became.

Edward also started to touch me in more tender ways. A caress here, a kiss there, they all led up to him drinking from me. He started small, with kissing in his bed – where I slept because he didn't have a use for it. He progressed to fondling and petting before finally breaking my skin and rubbing me to orgasm while he sucked.

He said my blood tasted even better that way. The oxytocin released during orgasm made it sweeter. He whispered to me that it was like candy.

The car halting outside his house interrupted my musing. I followed him meekly to the bedroom. He moved so quickly that I was far behind him. He knew that I'd never run. I would always follow.

Upon entering the room, I found my pointe shoes laid out. I groaned before I could stop myself.

"Isabella," he scolded.

"Sorry. Your pet will take her punishment." I ducked my head and sat down on the bed to put them on. He hadn't asked me to remove my tights, so I left them on, fearing that the punishment could get worse. I wrapped and tied the ribbons on my shoes, tucking in the ends. Once my shoes were secure I stood in position, waiting for his instructions.

Edward walked around me and slid a cold hand up my thigh, under my short, floral skirt, and between my legs. He pressed lightly and I gasped. I remained still with my head down.

"We'll play later, Pet. I have needs that you will meet after you've accomplished the task at hand." He removed his hand and lifted my shirt over my head, exposing my pale stomach and the white lace bra that I wore. The bra snapped off of my body. I gasped at the feeling. The sting settled into my lower half.

"On the bed," he said.

My brow furrowed and I risked looking at him. The bed?

"Are you deaf? Stand on the bed," he growled.

This was a bad idea. Standing en pointe on a steady, hard surface was challenging enough but the bed was soft. I wouldn't be able to retain my balance. My mouth opened and closed several times making silent protests as I climbed up.

"All the way up," he stroked my calf.

I brought myself up onto my toes and struggled to hold still. I slid my right leg out slightly. My ankles shook, causing the bed to rebound.

"5th position, Isabella," he chided. The bastard knew it wasn't possible. As soon as my feet were in position I tipped violently and placed my left foot out flat on the bed to prevent a fall.

"I have something to hold them still." He smirked at me and produced a long, champagne colored ribbon from his pocket. He wrapped it around my legs and tied it tightly.

I was going to fail.

And fail I did. The second he released my legs I fell over onto the bed. He lifted me back to my feet. I struggled against the ribbon to get my feet back into position and my arms over my head. My ankles began to wobble before I straightened up.

Edward released my legs. I widened my position slowly and carefully to the extent that the ribbon would allow. Edward narrowed his eyes. I caught myself looking but fortunately hadn't made eye contact. The wobble grew more pronounced. My feet were shaking the entire bed.

"Be still, Isabella," he commanded. I tried fruitlessly. The bed was making my ankles sore. There was no way to hold the position. Tears threatened to spill over.

Edward wanted failure.

I cried when I fell. I struck the bed with my fists.

"Do you understand the lesson?" he leaned over and spoke in my ear.

"No, your pet doesn't understand," I cried into the mattress.

"I gave you an impossible task, yes?"

I nodded, turning my head so that he could see my face.

"It's impossible to learn if you don't attend class," he growled. "Now, you will get up and you will hold fifth position on the floor."

I sniffled and pushed up from the bed with my arms, rolled over and slid my feet off of the bed. He knew I could only hold the position for a few seconds. Now that I had learned my lesson perhaps he would be kind. I scoffed internally at the thought.

Fifth position.

I stood on the floor, shifted my feet into the correct position and sprung up onto my toes. My arms came up over my head into an oval automatically, en haut. I focused on a point across the room, the box on his desk where he kept some of his smaller torture devices.

"Very good." Edward crossed the room to the box, and pulled out an item that fit in his hand. By the time he returned my balance was growing shaky. He had not given me the opportunity to stretch beforehand. I tried to readjust to relieve some of the pressure. He knew. Damned perfect vampiric recall told him that my feet were ever so slightly wider apart than when he left.

"You moved," he said.

Of course I had moved. Standing on the bed had already stressed my ankles and compromised my ability to stay stationary. He held out his hand and showed me what he'd pulled out of the box.

Nipple clamps.

They weren't the nice kind either. These were clover clamps, designed to tighten when the chain was pulled. Shit. Shit. Shit.

"Rest for a moment," he said just as my feet dropped to the floor. I let out a breath and forced my calves to relax while they could. My ankles were protesting fiercely. I wished that my toes didn't exist, and to make matters worse, the arches of my feet were so sore that I could cry. I wanted to pull the shoes off and throw them at him.

I continued to breathe steadily in and out. If I passed out we would start over, most likely with the lesson on the bed. I had to do it again and do it well. This required concentration and proper form. I decided to take the opportunity to review while I could, and adjust as needed.

Fifth position en pointe or sous-sus...

Legs turned out at the hips, check.

One foot in front of the other, check.

Heel of the front foot lined up with the joint in the toe of the back foot... I looked down to make sure, and adjusted my feet accordingly.

"Up," he ordered and I obeyed.

'Don't sit in the shoe. Lift out of the shoe,' I repeated the instruction in my head and made a concerted effort to support my weight not just with my feet and ankles, but my whole body, as I sprung back up onto my toes and brought my arms up. I hoped that I had it right.

He waited for me to steady myself on my toes. "Breathe in." Once I'd pulled in the breath he fastened a clamp to my left nipple. The air whooshed out of my lungs, and I struggled to maintain correct form.. "Again." We repeated the process.

I moaned and focused on the box across the room, trying to breathe and remain balanced. Focusing was difficult with the steadily building sensation that pulled a string tightly from my nipples downward. My feet were still, ankles quiet. They hurt like a bitch, but they didn't wobble. I smiled, satisfied with myself.

He pulled the chain attached to my nipples in retaliation.

"Down," he growled, placing a hand on my hip. I dropped down and sagged against him, as my feet gave out. "You're looking quite pleased with yourself." He reached down and pulled the ribbon from my legs. I was pleased with myself. My concentration had improved. If I paid attention I could do it.

"Take off the shoes." He pushed me to the bed. I bent over and felt the weight of the chain pull on the clamps and tighten them. I couldn't decide whether my feet or my nipples were suffering more.

I whimpered.

"The sooner you do this, the sooner they come off," he said.

I rushed to untuck the ends of the ribbons and untie them on each shoe in turn. My shoes were off quickly, the ribbons neatly arranged and set beside me on the mattress. I spared a brief moment to rub each foot, wanting rid of the clamps but finally deciding that the pain in my feet was worse. I sat up carefully, preventing the chain from snagging my tights on the way up.

Edward utilized his natural speed to stow my shoes. I was on my back before I realized that he'd returned to me. He removed the first clamp and blood rushed back into the nipple. I could still feel the thing compressing the tip. Edward sucked the nipple into his mouth. Removal was the best part about the clamps. I let out a series of little gasping noises as he rolled his icy tongue around. The other nipple was soon free and received the same treatment. I was panting, and praying that he'd want to drink from me because he would release the tension that was pulling tightly through my body. I felt like a string wound just to the point before it would break.

My panting changed to a fearful gasp when he brought out rope from under the bed. Rope was never good. It meant that he anticipated a struggle, or planned on restraining me for an extended period of time. I battled to calm myself.

I haven't been bad, I sobbed.

I pulled inward and focused on breathing steadily.

"Turn over," His tone was so casual that he could have been talking about the weather. Meanwhile, I was struggling to find sanctuary in my head from the fear. My response to rope was a Pavlovian spike of fear. I would work past it and find a quiet space inside my head, but I had to get there first. I rolled carefully and crossed my arms behind my back. This was familiar territory.

He started his intricate work on my arms, sliding the rope smoothly over my skin as he worked from the middle of the first length. I could feel my heart pounding. Edward had said "play" earlier. "Play" meant that he was going to drink, and he always made that enjoyable. The rope on the other hand wasn't for play. He always held me with his hands for that, because I was always a good pet while he was drinking.

I'm good. I can be good.

The rope continued to slide over my skin as he tied knots at strategic points. I concentrated on the feeling of the rope instead of what it meant for my body. Edward was working slowly, he wasn't angry. If he had been angry I would have found myself already tied and suspended, gasping in shock, and trying to adjust to the situation. If it hadn't been completely out of character for him, I would almost have thought that he was giving me time to get used to the rope. He never cared about that kind of thing.

With my arms secure, he turned me over. I turned my head to hide the evidence of tears rolling down my cheeks. I knew that the act was pointless. He always seemed to sense when I'd been crying. I wondered if he could smell the tears, or if there was some change in my body chemistry that alerted him to my mental state. Nevertheless, I hid from him.

"Bend your knees," his voice was softer, like he was trying not to wake me. I drew my knees up just below my bottom. Edward grabbed my ankles and gently pushed them apart. He wrapped my legs in another series of carefully placed knots, forcing each leg to remain bent, and anchoring the ropes to the knots on my arms. I had almost found a calm state of mind by the time he finished. Edward pulled away and observed his work. He liked to look at me trussed up with the rope. Sometimes he would sit and watch as my muscles grew fatigued from being held in place. I instinctively tried to move and found that I was completely helpless. My state of mind slipped back to panic. I didn't want to stay like that all day. I thought that the lesson and the clamps were my punishment. I wiggled and tried to find a way to relax. My arms were uncomfortable with my weight on them, I was able to slide them slightly closer to the small of my back before feeling more tension.

Edward smirked as a writhed around a bit, trying to get more comfortable.

"Relax now my little pet. You have two choices: One, you do this willingly and I can make it good for you. Two, you fight and I might hurt you... unintentionally," he whispered. The fact that Edward was warning me that something might hurt did nothing to soothe me. He climbed between my legs, and placed my pillow underneath me, relieving most of the pressure on my arms. His eyes darkened as he ripped at my tights to gain access to me. The soft, white panties were the next thing that he tore. He left the skirt, pushing it up around my waist.

"This smells almost as good as it does when you bleed," he murmured into the skin of my upper thigh.

Over the course of the year he'd fed from me, yes. However, he preferred to do it during my cycle. I didn't understand what his reasons for it were, nor did I want to know.

I was restrained in a seated position. There was a small ledge under my bum. Ropes held me perfectly still, lashed to the wall. I could feel the slight sensation of blood flow coming down. It would soon coat my lower lips.

He was there. He'd smelled it before it reached my inner lips. The trickle of fluid was hot. His cold tongue reached out and caught it. He sucked gently at my opening until it was gone for the moment. He licked up my slit to my clitoris and flicked it a few times, causing my legs to flex and my walls to contract. A fresh flow of blood rewarded him for his efforts. He lapped it up.

The sensations of alternating heat from my body and cold from his tongue drove me mad. He kept me tied and naked, changing my position every few hours and lapping greedily at my blood.

At the end of three days of near constant stimulation I was exhausted. I slept for a full day.

Edward gave me a quick lick with his cold tongue. My hips bucked up.

"I think you want this a bit too much, pet." He licked me again. "We're going to do something new today. You're going to let me have you like that dog has had you."

He meant Jacob. My arousal addled brain didn't completely process what he was talking about.

Edward removed his pants and slid up my body between my legs.

"You're wet, and oh so warm," he groaned.

His bare cock rubbed between my folds and I jumped. The information suddenly processed. He wanted me fully, like we hadn't done before. We were going to have sex. I tensed. I'd only ever done it with Jacob. He was warm and gentle, the antithesis of Edward.

"Isabella," Edward warned me. "If you don't relax then this will hurt you. I don't want to do any damage that will prevent you from being able to please me later."

He didn't want a verbal response. I focused inward again and tried to relax. He ran a cold hand up and down my side. I felt myself open. My legs relaxed along with my hips. I felt the tension in the ropes change, applying pressure slightly differently.

As soon as he sensed a release of tension, he was in.

Holy Hell, he was cold, so damned cold, too fucking cold. My body tensed again. His shaft was like marble, smooth and hard, and cold. Tears sprang up in my eyes, and I convulsed, pulling against my restraints. I couldn't pull in a breath. I panicked as I tried fruitlessly to expand my lungs.

"Bella, breathe," he ordered.

I couldn't.

I tried.

There was no air, just cold and hard between my legs.

"Bella, calm down and focus. Listen to me. This isn't painful, just cold. You can do this. You've taken everything I've given you. Don't fight the feeling. Breathe." He put his lips over mine and forced air into my lungs. It was strange and a little painful. He'd used a lot of force. "Relax."

I started to pull in air again. My lungs worked. My temperature was dropping and his was increasing. It was less uncomfortable.

"Good girl, that's my little pet." He kissed his way over to my ear. "Give yourself to your master. Remember that I own this body. You will let me take what I want from it."

I nodded. Resisting him only resulted in more pain.

He rocked his hips, testing the water. I could feel him sliding smoothly inside of me, like cold glass. I moaned and tried to get more. He continued slowly. His body stole more of my warmth. The movement of his cock inside of me was so gradual that the result was mindblowing.

"Please," I begged. Hopefully he wanted me to beg. I was willing to risk more time relegated to toe shoes in order to get more.

"What do you want, pet?" he asked softly against my neck. His nails broke the skin on my bare shoulder. I winced.

"I want more, please," I was practically crying.

"That's too bad. I'm enjoying your heat little pet. You're so soft, and warm, and slick," he whispered. His tongue ran across the bloody skin of my shoulder. "Right now, you're responding just enough to change your flavor." He tasted my blood and hummed. "Slightly sweet, like ripe fruit instead of candy… It's so good. Maybe I'll just move slowly like this forever."

My legs trembled.

"I can you know," he taunted me. "I can stay here and slide in and out of you for eternity. I could lap at your neck," he ran his tongue along the cut again for emphasis and my hips moved of their own accord again, "and have someone bring you food. I could make you stay like this, eat here with me inside of you, hold you here forever just on the edge and never give you full release."

I whimpered.

"Or I could be merciful."

Please be merciful.

"Please, let me have more. Faster and harder please," I begged again.

"You will get to class on time."

He gave me a thrust. I moaned at how he filled me.

"You will be a good little pet."

He pushed twice hard and fast. I gasped and rolled my hips upward.

"You will study and please me at my leisure."

Hard and fast and smooth ... I felt the fire build in my stomach. Blood dripped from my shoulder and he licked it.

"You will remember your place or I will break the treaty. I will go back there and end that dog that you love."

I was at the precipice, ready to go over the cliff. It felt so wrong that threats were pushing me over the edge. He felt my muscles tightening, and he latched onto the wound he'd made in my shoulder. His fingers pried it wider. I came hard as he sucked and thrust harder. I didn't come down. My body was flying on a euphoric cloud as he continued.

Eventually, he'd had his fill. His hands slid down, fingers digging into my hips to tilt them to a new angle. I crested the wave of pleasure I'd been riding one more time. Then, the hard marble between my legs pulsed. It hurt, it felt fantastic, it flexed and undulated. I thought I was breaking to pieces. He shot freezing cold bursts into me, and I screamed in shock.

I shivered and writhed again as he pulled out. The ropes holding me down were sliced rather than untied. He'd never cut the rope before, even when I was in pain at the end of a long day. Edward was rushing.

"What's wrong?" I asked groggily through chattering teeth.

"Your body temperature is too low, and I drank more than normal."

He dropped an electric blanket over me and turned up the temperature, before disappearing into the bathroom. I heard water running.

The blanket did little to stop the shaking. It felt hot on my skin but didn't seem to warm me at all. My teeth were still chattering when Edward returned for me. The sound of water was gone. I blinked at him, completely confused. He'd only been a few seconds.

When he lifted me, he didn't feel cold, just cool. He carried me to the bathroom and slid my body into the water, wedging rolled up towels around me to hold my body into place. My head lolled back onto the edge of the tub. Edward went to work on my shoulder, stitching it carefully. He must have done a lot more damage than usual. I closed my eyes and ignored the feeling of tugging skin while he stitched. The water felt hot, like it was burning my skin. I thought about that instead of the needle. Neither sensation was pleasant. As I warmed up, I could feel the needle moving in and out of my shoulder more acutely.

He finished stitching and sat down on the floor, not touching me. Edward sat perfectly still, like a statue on the floor. After what seemed like an eternity of silence and stillness, he pulled me to a standing position – making as little contact as possible. He wrapped me tightly in a warm towel from on top of the radiator and carried me at arms length back to the bed.

The blanket and mattress were warm. I let out a soft sigh and sank into the bed. The next few days would be rest and high calorie food with Ensure to drink and tons of iron supplements. I began to doze off, but before the warm tendrils of sleep could wrap around my brain I realized the upside: I wouldn't have to attend my dance lesson.

End Note:

Anyone still with me? I'm sure I lost several of y'all somewhere between slavery and the "period cunny." Something to note, Bella could leave, there would be consequences for her actions, but she could run, and there are those who would welcome her back no matter what. It's not a choice she's willing to make. Please also note that she went to Edward freely, look at the conversation with Jacob.

Safety note: NEVER pull a restrained person by the wrists. This action could cause serious damage.