Perversion, In Detail It’s easy to swing the rope. It’s such a simple action, ju
Perversion, In Detail It’s easy to swing the rope. It’s such a simple action, just the flick of a wrist and the strength of an arm. It’ll make you gasp, it’ll make you sigh. It’ll extract those delicious little whimpers from your throat and leave you panting, like an animal strapped and caged, forced to endure, forced to confront the pleasure balling tight in their stomach. Forced to confront themselves. Easy never thrills me. I’m pretty sure you’ll get tired of easy, too. Harder still to turn that rope, that implement of pain, however exquisite, into a tool of pleasure. To run it over your quivering, naked body, and watch the goosebumps march across your skin, each one standing to attention with a grinning affirmation. We’re all perverts, but we forget the meaning of that word, on occasion. To pervert, to turn the use and meaning of something in on itself, use it for our purposes, rather than whatever it was intended to be. Because fuck convention, and fuck the appropriate use. I’m going to use whatever I’m going to use, and I’m going to use it in whatever way creeps into my head. And I’m going to watch you come on the limp tendrils of this flogger, and I’m going to watch your cheeks burn hot with the shame of it. And I’m going to kiss your lips because you look so fucking adorable when you’re embarrassed. -- source link
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