Tell me You don’t miss it…The wanton look in my eyes. The ones i wore every time i kneeled before Yo

Tell me You don’t miss it…The wanton look in my eyes. The ones i wore every time i kneeled before You. Those, belonging to a submissive who wants to serve Your every fucked up craving, that ever crossed Your intelligently, fucked up mind. The ones that house the look i release when i sink further into submission; like when i recognize the depth of Your depraved desires and the deeper i want to fall to fulfill them. Tell me You don’t miss it…You don’t miss the sound of screams passing through me? The ones You would watch crawl under my flesh from one side of my body to the other; desperate for release. As if i was made of strings that connected to the different parts of me. Ones that You would play with just to watch me squirm. Preexistent orgasms that would almost fail to leave my body, but You found recreation in the numerous ways of extracting them. i, too, found pleasure in Your ways of siphoning them out of me. How Your eyes would get bigger, glow brighter. Your smile more crooked, yet honest; baring fangs that only had one intention. You’d stop, keep me just on the edge, before You ripped it out of me. Awaiting confirmation through my voice that fed the sadist living in Your ears. One’s that echo in His head and make my body move faster, Your fingers dance harder, and Your thoughts grow darker.Tell me You don’t miss it…You know, the shadows in my body? Or the curves You used to loiter in, as i squirmed between Your fingertips? i was such a whimpering ball of submission You couldn’t wait to lay down and trace. i can’t imagine You’d have any desire to now. To hold me in the light and explore the lines in my body You once knew by heart. How unappealing it would be, to watch them come to life at the touch of Your fingers; Where new lines replaced old lines; paying Your respects in the form of a pull in Your cock, because You know, You’re the reason behind them all. A canvas Your submissive so desperately needed, to match all she held inside her.Tell me You don’t miss it…The beautiful shades of red. Blue. And purple. The color on my skin that matched it’s severity with the temperature radiating from it. The texture… Fuck, the texture. The outlines of the object You used, to tear into me, still imprinted on my flesh; thirsting for the chance of blood. You loved to run Your fingers over them and i loved to watch. my tears only made You harder, my whimpers only made You hungrier, my submission, only made You dig deeper. Tell me You don’t miss it…i bet You don’t miss the feeling of the muscles contracting in my throat either. The tiny tremors that swam through Your entire body each time my throat tried to contradict itself. How about the overwhelming feeling You got when You closed Your eyes and looked toward the ceiling? When You tried to make Your mind go blank and convince Your body to deprive me of my urge to suck You dry, as i hung beautifully off Your cock. Without the use of my hands or that thing between my legs, just the chambers of my throat, milking You of what You had to offer and empty inside me. Tell me You don’t miss it…Because i do. i miss it all and it’s getting harder and harder for me to ignore. The beating drum in my head that starves for the slightest drop of pain. An urgent sense of normalcy i’ve been scrummaging around to find for months now. i want to serve You. i want to see that look in Your eyes. The confused, lustful, angry, hateful, passionate look i receive just before You strike me. When the pain entering my body meets pleasure and releases a sense of ecstasy to every inch of my body, putting my mind at ease. Your little frustration fuck-toy, rag doll that You used to throw around the inside of Your car. Your little whore. Your young lady. The sexual deviant that accepts Your pleasure as a form of compensation. It cannot be undone. You exposed the inner being of my existence, what i am here to do. i am what i am. i am who i am. i am YOUR submissive. Please, Sir…. let me suffer for You.Copyright 2013 © patientyounglady -- source link

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