December 22, 2016 by

And he calms me.

But what he has in store for me is anything but calming. I know this and yet my breath comes from deep inside me. A cool liquid of him covering me, it enters my mouth, my nose, my cunt and my willingness to settle into him becomes a fight for my life. He has come up from behind me and taken from me what I keep close to my core.

What have I left but to give him the edges that scrape my soft creamy insides. These edges that gash and carve it's way into the embedding of my careless wanton self. A whore whose time has come to expose myself, not of flesh, not of legs agape but of the truth and ugly and beautiful and raw center that no one has cared to see.

Sadist of my mind, whipping grey matter into a form of sculpting and kneading and needing and knee deep. He does not wear wading boots to keep my ugly at bay. He revels in the broken shards and softly waving palms whose roots are rotting beneath the surface of this thing I call myself.

The bricks of this thing that protects me only keep me from release. The needle enters and a pop exits and the liquid of him creeps into the segment of my dermis infecting me with an unbelievable sensation of loss and gain and managed pain. I can't do this and the tears rise up in defiance of my need for him. Creeping and taking over my cheeks in wetness and trails of submission with every drop.

I fail to wrap my fingers, my lips, my mind around what is happening. Letting go of my desire for knowledge I cover myself in the feeling of it all, the crab walk need to move closer to this pulsating man that may destroy me with a cracking of my sanity and a pushing of my sated body into worlds I dare not enter.

Fear of him becomes a reverence of where he is able to go within me with relish and hands flexing and cock hard. A gaining of the part of me that I did not gift, I did not hand over but was seized. He inspired it so therefore he owns it.

The liquid of who he is may reject a union between my chemical masturbation of fingers, hips rising, and flight of sanity and his purity of dominance but I care not. In this moment I dive into the pulsating pretense knowing it will be the end of me.

Or the beginning