My every carefully constructed limbsurrounded by a web of stringsand intricate knotsleave me incapab

My every carefully constructed limbsurrounded by a web of stringsand intricate knotsleave me incapable of letting go.They offer You complete authoritythat could make anyone weary at the reignsbut not You, SirMaster of strings.You raise Your handsand i dance at Your command.Your every movementproceed my efforts to try and heave from Your directioneager,to release the ties that bind uscautious,to remind myself of what i am,but i’m powerless to Your touch.escaping seems impossiblethe threads You’ve embedded in mecarefully woven into my skinremind methat i’m a product of Your deranged mindand You use it to Your advantagewhenever You feel so inclined.i peer down at my hands,trace the fragile outline of my bodyand recognize i’m unfit to stand myself alonei lay hunched and motionless away from the stageviolentystrung together but still in one piecemy scarsstill visible from the attack.i notice the shade of red staining the entrance of my woundsit paints the birthing of the string in the heart of my hands.A bittersweet reminder of the pain that brought me lifeincisions carefully constructed under the direction of Your knife. Your perseverance was admirable inspiring, the desire to sink Your strings in methe way You dug Your hands in megot Your control on mepossessing, what was rightfully Yourswhich You started stitching the moment You walked through those doors.my Masked Operator, oh, my Manipulatorhiding in the cryptic corners of the shadows above mei called out to You.play with me Masterpull my stringsexploit me in Your gamesloiter in my corrupt twisted mind for as long as You can standbring to lifewhat I never had the strength to do on my own.i begged,make mebreak mecaptivate me.Rising to the challenge You leapt slowly,methodically towards the paddleplacing it in Your hands admiring Your treasure as if i were a prizeand instantlyi come to life at the pull of Your strands,my body dangling beneath Your articulate handsa shattered doll lodged in the chest of Your palmsso willing to cater to Your needsa mere object to fuck withnothing but a slave to Your depraved desireseagerto sate needs You’ve craved but never knew You had.You,my Manipulator,i, Your marionette,a prisoner for Your pleasureforever in Your debt.These threaded bars keep me in the cage of Your handsthe motivation to break through them grows absentbut the only slack You’ve allowed me lies in the strands You’ve strategically sewn into the depths of my skinconnecting You to the most vital parts of meholding You responsible, for this beautiful piece of workwith the audiences’ validation. Your aspirations achievedan exquisite trophy to hold for the pain i received. So small and fragile i fit so perfectly in Your handsmy behavior influenced by Your precise instruction.i’m a crippled wooden rendition of human existencetrained to perform the nefarious tasks of Your pleasing Molded into exactly what You requestedbut later foundYou got back so much more than You invested.A beautiful chord connects to each one of my chambersattaching us in some of the most fascinating ways.Under Your greedy touch. You acquired this early fixation to the one that bounds my mindthe thin line You constantly tracebecomes so elegant to watch as it twists and pullsan indent forms in Your handYou clench tighter to the tiesas we both watch it happenright before our eyes.The most subtle yetperfectly destructible fragile chord on my perfectly suspended body.the tension thrives with the help of Your smileunbearable at timesit flirts with the idea of breaking loosebecause my mind is a play-toysusceptible to Your abuse.It’s illumination on stage becomes the sparkle in Your eyethat alludes to something even greater.You slip into the essence of Your comfortthe height of Your arousaland get lost in the momentsuch a beautiful sight to beholdand we sit back and watchas the beauty of Thiscontinues to unfold.i trust the insurance of Your fingersbut i can still anticipate the precipitous fallbecause i know when the show’s overi’m left crumbled at Your feetpowerlessvulnerablerestored back to the lifeless character i once waswaiting to be picked up againon a shelf for displaystarving for Masterto hold His wooden bouquet. Responsibility falls on my worn out shouldersaware of the struggle i knew it’d be intolerablethe surrender,impetuousnevertheless, I accepted that I was Yours,fragilebrittlebut every bit Yours.protected by the walls of Your handsi put forth my trust, in the foundation of Your plans.i function solely on Your commandand it’s been made evidently clear that these threads design my fatewith each sophisticated pull. so I turn to You and wait for You to signal my queue,don’t be silly, it’s what You’ve trained me to do.my feet hit the stageYour victim on displayin This puppet show for two.how beautiful You’ve prepared mei’m primped to the corean enhanced replica of what You’ve always strived for.You smile as i performbasking in Your expertisethe lines tread deeper into Your skinbut desperate for the finale, You ignore the stress and discoloration in Your fingersMr. Avoidance of Chaosseemingly in controlspirals for a brief momentloses sense of direction,lost in the excitementwe grow tangled in one another.You’re calm and refinedyet there we layunspeaking of the strings which are now intertwined. Acceptable for nowThis tour has just begun.we’ve caught ourselves in This messbut we have time to figure it outdistort them and put them back where they belong.And when we do decide to unraveland lose the patience it takes to unwind them carefully,and all ties are cuti’ll be reminded of the sparkling lines sticking out of mewhich i’ll go backand subconsciously trace from time to timeonly to find nothing at the end. All the memories will flood backrest uncomfortably in my headand bring new life to the meaninghanging by a thread. Copyright © patientyounglady -- source link

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