Bondage of the Soul

you remember, do you not?

yes Sir. i remember.

then why are you not on your knees?

better. I dislike repeating.

yes Sir. I’m sorry Sir.

There is a sound, the sharp crack of a palm on cheek. A gasp, a sway, a movement to maintain balance. Another crack, another moan, less shifting. A slap on the first cheek, followed by the second until tears streak down pinkened flesh.

good girl

t-thank you Sir.

For a moment he cups her chin in three fingers, tilting her head up, forcing her to look at him.  Unshed tears slip out, painting her eyes with Cleopatra-like silver streaks. He craves every whimper, every moan, every tear. His smile is almost as fearful as his scowl, she thinks, feeling a tremor deep in her pussy. He will hurt her, she knows.

She will enjoy it, all of it, even when she doesn’t think she can take another blow from a paddle, another beat on her cunt from his hand, another thrust from his cock, buried in her asshole. 

It is who she is, a slut who loves pain, loves the man who has Mastered the art of giving her exactly what she needs, loves the deep need that draws them together like two opposing sides of a magnet, snapped together in bonds that crave one another.

open your mouth for me, slut

yes. good, mmmm, that’s good….mmmm, that’s a good cocksucker. mhmm..yes…deep…oh no, you’ll take it–every fucking-grunt- inch- down-grunt-your-grunt(ahhhh) cocksucking throat gawd…yeah, yeah little whore…good, gasp, good…(gasp)…

there is a sucking pop sound as he pulls out of her mouth, and a long silver thread of saliva and precum have mingled, stringing them to one another;  an ephemeral bondage rope holding them both in stasis. He moves, breaking the string, and wraps her deeper into the web of need and submission he has woven around her. His cock hits her cheek where his hand had struck her earlier, stinging her, making him smile with satisfaction. Making her whimper with need. 

Together they are bound, one to another, yin to yang, need to need,  body, soul, mind and spirit, intrinsically mixed, interwoven, each made whole by the craven needs of the other.