May i take your perfect visage and slam against it, forcefully?
May i hold the alabaster of your soft cheek, only long enough to shatter it?
May i address you in curt ways, that humiliate you, reduce you to an insult?
May i seek pandemonium in your crevices, stabbing them thoughtlessly with my member?
May i cause you to shriek in fear, to mimic the pain i feel on a daily basis?
Will you do that for me? Will you suffer, truly suffer, not cosmetically suffer, but endure so much that it leaves a scar, a permanent welt that i can return to, when i need the solace that tells me i'm not alone with this torment?
May i look you straight in the eyes, and without remorse, collapse my entire spirit upon you, spilling my bloody insides all over your beautiful, untouched canvass?
May i maim you? Transform you? Turn you into something else that you do not recognize?
May i rob you of your persona, re-route your natural instincts and feed you my disease, my slanted way of life?
May i drag you along the rough, cragged surface of my abilities, my clumsiness and ignorance scraping across your flesh?
May i pounce on you, without any warning? May i shove my hunger onto you, taking what i need to feed, leaving you with just scraps?
May i reconstruct you? May i tear you apart and put you back as i prefer?
May i damage you? May i damage you? May i inflict?
Ask yourself if you trust me. Ask yourself if you can survive this.
7 comments:
Interesting. My my Master's mantra is 'hurt, not damage', and it is on this basis that we interact. That is not to say that he will not leave scars, but he, and I, prefer scarring that fades in time.A smashed cheekbone seems a bit counterproductive to me. However, maybe it is simply that you want the consent (implicit) to do this, though you may choose not to.My Master and I have no 'safe word', but I trust him to hurt, not damage.
I get it. I understand completely.
Each time I pick up a stick, wrap a rope around my palm, I feel that.
I hope I know her limits and I often fear mine. Pet says no safe word but of course she can always say, "That's too much" and then she is gone to me.
But still, every time we begin, I want to inflict. It's just that simple. I know in my heart that I don't want limits, don't want boundaries. I impose them on myself to ensure I have a target for my need. Handy, no? self policing. It's nice to hear honest need.
I get it.
Tristan
i think there is a really beauty in these questions, in the pain, and in the yearning...there is real intimacy there.
xx, m
at times, it is not so much your posts as it is my reactions which inspire periods of reflection.
i was frozen in my seat as i read, except, of course, for the twitching in my cunt. i may have forgotten to breathe. yet i never forgot that what you were saying,especially the first two questions, were well beyond what i would stand for, not to mention what the philosopher would do.
i worried at being transfixed and aroused as much as i was.
and yet, i found some measure of reassurance in the end. because at least for me, i think, it is as much about the trust as it is about the actual injury, real or potential.
i do trust the philosopher. i love him and trust him. every time i offer up my aging body and neurotic mind to his sadistic machinations, i am demonstrating the depth of both the love and the trust. and every time he accepts, rewards, and returns both love and trust by knowing my limits perhaps better than i do, taking me as far as i need to go, and caring for me as he brings me back.
adrienne,
surely the objectification of the female cheek by referring to it as alabaster made it appear less like i wanted to shatter the bones beneath her flesh.
This post was more emotive than instructive.
Tristan,
You make an excellent assertion:
"I hope i know her limits, and i often fear mine."
I think this touches quite accurately on some of what i was expressing in this little ditty.
m,
thank you. i always strive to have some element of beauty in what i do.
o.g.,
i used the construction "May i..." rather purposely, as it was never my intention to inform the recipient of these words that this is what i was going to do.
I understand now. I thought 'shatter it' referred to the cheek. You meant it to mean the alabaster. Sorry to misunderstand.
Your words are hypnotic. I read then re-read them continuously until I felt each letter trickle over my flesh, wriggle under my skin and pulsate deep within my mind.
Thank you.
~a
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