Title:           AnonxSammy3
Author:          Heatseekerboy
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/6kckbZXx
First Edit:      Saturday 15th of March 2014 12:28:31 AM CDT
Last Edit:       Saturday 15th of March 2014 12:28:31 AM CDT

"So how do you even stand on these things, Anon?" Sammy asks, turning your foot over his claws. His sharp talons tickle the soft bridge of your foot. You stifle a giggle.
 
"You sort of distribute your weight all over it..." you say, pondering just how humans *do* walk. You never really put much thought into it. "Maybe we just have better balance than griffons and ponies do," you say, shrugging.
 
"Really?" Sammy says, releasing your foot. He took a moment to stabilize himself, and stood up on his hind paws. "How about this, then?" he asked with a cocky smirk.
 
"OK, Mr. Tallbird," you say, rising off the couch to stand eye-to-eye with him. He's bigger than you, but standing on his hind legs like that, he's not taller than you by much. You look him straight in his green eagle eyes. He looks back at you, searching.... And completely failing to notice the gentle shove you gave him square in the chest to set him off balance. He panics for a moment, breaking eye contact as he flares his wings and waves his arms, eventually overcorrecting and falling straight into you.
 
You both fall backwards into the couch. You weren't quite prepared, and you pay for it with a mouth full of feather.
 
"God, Anon, why'd you do that?" Sammy asks as he disentangles himself from you, sounding genuinely annoyed. His voice sort of reminds you of when Dad used to get mad at you.
 
"Sorry, I-" you begin apologetically.
 
"Sorry nothing!" he says loudly, picking himself up and standing on two paws again. He gestures behind himself rather angrily. "I could have fallen into the table!"
 
You lean to your right and peer around your seething boyfriend; a glass coffee table lay behind him. You hadn't thought of that.
 
"Sammy, I'm so sorry, I-" you say, your eyes welling up with tears at the thought of him getting hurt.
 
"Sorry wouldn't pay the hospital bill!" he shouts, leaning down in your face. "Sorry wouldn't get the glass out of my skin!"
 
"Sammy, just listen to me!" you shout, tears running down your cheeks. Please don't let him be like this. Please.
 
"NO!" she shouts. All at once you feel his talons like needles on your head. "Do you ever THINK!?" he screams, squeezing your head harder. "Is there ANYTHING going on up there?!"
 
You're blubbering at this point, stammering out half-formed words in apology and plea for mercy. Sammy has other ideas.
 
"YOU FUCKING RETARD!" he screams in your face, as loud as he can. For a moment you feel a twinge of fear that the neighbors are going to hear. During that moment, you fail to register the pain and disorientation from him shoving your head down on the couch. You hope it's over. You hope he's going to go cool off, and you can talk about it and tell him how sorry you are. He has other ideas. As you pick yourself up, he levels his head with yours, mere inches from your face.
 
"You're a freak," he says, low and stone cold. "You're a freak in a world that's never seen anything like you. Nobird is ever going to love you. You. Are. Worthless."
 
Sammy grabs you by the upper arms, picking you up from the couch. He lifts you with ease, slamming you against the wall. You're fully sobbing by now.
 
"No, no, no," you sob. "Pleeeease, Sammy, don't do this!" you choke out. His eyes are hard and his feathers are fluffed out with rage. His claws dig savagely into your biceps. You look deep into his eyes, and for the first time, you feel real fear. Deep, primal fear. You feel like he might actually hurt you, might actually *kill* you. You don't like this feeling. Not one bit.
 
"Swordfish!" you shout. "Swordfish!"
 
Faster than a bolt of lightning, Sammy pulls your down from the wall and pulls you into a warm, gentle embrace. He starts to sob.
 
"Oh, Anon," he cried. His tears fall into your hair as he lovingly cradles your head. "I hate it. I hate it so much. Don't make me do it again."
 
You return his embrace, long and hard.
 
"I don't like it either," you say. "I just didn't expect you to take it so far."
 
"What?" he asks, pulling back and looking you in the face, tears still slowing from his eyes. "I'm an actor, what did you expect?"
 
"Well..." you say, inhaling, hiccuping, and regaining your composure. "Not that."
 
"Oh my god, Anon, I'm so *sorry*!" he says, clutching you again and holding your throbbing head to his chestfeathers. "I just want you to know that I love you. I love you and I didn't mean any of it."
 
"Of course not, my wonderful pheonix," you say, caressing his wing. "You're a wonderful actor, though."
 
Too good of an actor. This will be the last time you try experimenting with 'hate play.' Next up in the "A-Z Book of Fetishes" is 'Intimate Cooking.' That one sounds more tame.