The minutes coalesce into one another and the evidence of your violence is painted clearly on the soft smooth canvas of my skin. The sadistic art of your pleasure gleams on my flesh the way light pierces the darkness when the sun kisses the sky. The nature of your passion is clear, absolute, resolute, unflinching, and powerful. The dictatorial control you exert is infinite and unquestioning. I am humbled before you. I kneel in supine desire. I am bent with anticipation, fear, awe, and reverence. Desiring to worship, and to obey. My body is desperate to feed the beast which lives within the recesses of your dominant mind. My mind is captured, a willing slave to your needs, wants, and orders. The incessant need to prostrate myself at your feet grows until I resemble a mewling kitten. Sinew bends as I quiver in anticipation and fearful elation. The wait is excruciating.
Hold. Wait. Forget to breathe.
The first touch of your desire introduces itself on my skin as the breath of air I have been keeping locked away is forcefully expelled. The thick black color, the texture , the weight of your belt settles over me again and again. The tableau set before your eyes stretches you, lengthens you, hardens you as the visage of my submission ignites the raging violence I am all too eager to accept. I am a willing participant to your violation and violent desire; you are Master, Owner, and All Powerful control at this moment. Your heart races as I moan, and the words you’ve been waiting to hear finally escape like the touch of a butterfly from my lips. “Harder, Daddy, hit me harder, please.” You know that I mean it. The rush of blood engorges you and you strike harder, feasting in my submission. The thrust of your cock inside me hurts and tears, and pleasure beyond words fuels my insides as you batter me from the inside, and the outside as well. Your fists strike me in so many different places, and so many times all I am capable of doing is begging you for more. More Daddy, more. I want your violence on my body the way most need air to breathe. It is not a desire, it is a virulent need. The realization that the more I cry for pain the harder you will hit me is not lost on me, and my pleasure ripens and matures as you slam the cane down across my back, hips, ass, and thighs. The searing heat of this fantastic torture elates me and I cum, hard, without thought, flooding my beaten channel with cum; surrounding your cock with the evidence of my utter obedience to your will.
Your hand surrounds my throat, cutting off my air as my eyes look up at you, filled with awe and desire. I worship you with the complete surrender of my body, the openness of my mind, and the look in my eyes as you slap me again and again. The whispered, “Yes Sir.” When you ask me if I’m going to obey you, and be a good little girl. Anything less than that is wholly unacceptable. I lay beneath you filled with pain, pleasure, desire, and joy. Watching you hurt me, feeling you beat me, knowing that you’re taking exactly what you are due fuels the rampant lust within me. Finally you finish your primal violation by gifting me with your cum. In my mouth, on my face; I’m soaked by you. I smile and lick up every stray drop like it’s candy. I quiver once again, my pleasure at your release is overpowering. The divinity of your power over me is evident as the moments pass and the bruises and welts begin to form where you've beaten me. Tears of happiness fill my eyes. It's truly beautiful, what you do to me.
I breathe again. So pleasurably destroyed. Helplessly completed by your violence.
