Will I ever quit injecting the pain that you supply and just let this dead horse die? You try too hard to lose yourself yet you are more found than ever. Try with all you have to push up and break the force of gravity. The very thing that keeps us grounded is also the thing that holds us down. The pain you inflict... is the pain that we love, the pain that we deny.

Forcing your innocent kisses and drowning in your salty tears.
Your voice trembling, tentative and begging me to stop.

A wasted effort on a wasted life.

You look like an angel as you lick my blade, pleading “no” but needing more.
This place is a battlefield of unrelenting torture and unwilling sex.

…and it’s just what you asked for.
…and it’s just what you deserve.

You will be good, you will obey, you will promise to keep this a secret or you will die at my hands.

Do I make myself clear?

You dive into oceans of pain and ecstasy that I provide for you, you thank me politely with each exhilarating sting of my whip. You tremble and struggle and you bend your body and your whim to please me.

How can anything be better than this?

Why, you ask?
“Because you are my property, because I love to hate you, because you asked to be prepared and trained properly, because you are nothing, because I’m the devil and I do the devils work.”

So you crawl to me on hands and knees, so small… so invisible… so polite and accommodating. I imagine that you’re already dead as I suck the sickness out of your veins.

I will manipulate you at will; I’ll hurt you as I please.
Your pain is my power and your life is in my hands.

With my gun cocked and loaded and pointing calmly at your face you become my perverse novelty.

For now, I’ll leave you hanging... waiting in the darkness when it’s time for love and sex and pain and hate and blood and death and humiliation and affection and obedience and compliance…..

….breathe….

I might let you stay alive.

On the edge of my flat world I can look out and see deep space... a darkness so profound. I can hear myself asking without ever saying, and I know that you're trying... but only you know why... oh god there's nothing left here to take, there's no more room for graves, I can't remember death when so much of my life supercedes it.

I promise that I will do everything a proper sadist should do.

You REALLY have a gift. I could read your short stories and or poems all day, I do believe.

Pain runs deep and the first paragraph almost brought me to tears. I can relate.

Pain (fear) and love are deep rooted emotions and to be able to relate to the reader as you obviously can is a gift!!!

thanks jenn, as always I appreciate your thoughts on it.

Amazing imagery!
The words sound like they could well be a song.
I'm trying to imagine your avatar...if that's you...on stage with your best James Hetfield sneer..singing these words to dark music.
Your words are as good as Fade To Black's lyrics, or Black from Eddie Vedder. You have a true talent.