"But-"
Daddy doesn't let me protest. "No buts, boy. Now do as I said."
With a trembling hand, I take the scalpel. My fingers brush against the silk, and it's such a stark contrast. Something so sharp like a scalpel lying in silk… it almost seems poetic. But can I really hurt my Daddy?
It's one thing to hurt myself, to leave scars on my body. It's another thing to do it to my Daddy. He's precious to me. I will always protect him. Cutting his skin like this doesn't classify as protecting in my mind.
Daddy's eyes soften as if he can see my worry. Actually, I'm sure he can.
"Boy, I'm not telling you to do this so you can fill the hollowness inside."
"Then why?"
"I planned this some time ago."
"You did?"
"Yes. I'm aware it's psychotic. I'm aware it's not normal. But I don't care. Ever since I saw the darkness in you, I wanted to share it with you."
"Share?"
I'm not sure I understand.
"I want the scars left behind on your skin from your darkest times to be reflected on my own flesh."
My heart hammers and my hands start to sweat. Even now, I don't understand. It doesn't have any logic. Most people would want to erase what I've done on my skin. They wouldn't offer to create a mirror to my twisted masterpiece.
It doesn't make sense.
"You want to know why?" Daddy states, and I nod, uncertain. "Because I want you to see them on me and know that I'm yours.Because I want you to know that you're no longer alone in this twisted darkness, and you'll never be again. Because I want you to know nothing could ever tear us apart and that I'm all yours. That I want all of you, all of your light and darkness."
"Daddy…"
"I want you to look at the scars on my skin and be reminded of how I see you."
"How?" I whisper.
"As the bravest man I know. Strong. Beautiful. Incredible."
My eyes mist, and I kiss him. How can I not when he's saying things like this? Normal people would say we're sick in the head, and we probably are. But that's okay because we're together in this.
When we pull apart, I look at Daddy as he pulls up his sleeves and bares his skin for me. Part of me is excited, and I feel like an artist presented with the best canvas in the world. Another part of me is reluctant to do what Daddy asked of me.
"Part of me doesn't want to ruin your beautiful skin, Daddy," I share my feelings with him.
"It wouldn't be ruining, boy. It would be a surrender and claiming. Our surrender. Our claim."
"And would you claim me in return?" I ask.
He smirks at me, and the heat and possessiveness in his eyes make me swoon. I'm the luckiest man alive.
"I will. Once you've marked my skin, you'll see what I'll do."
I shiver and lick my lips.
I can't wait.
But first, I need to claim my Daddy first and accept his surrender.
