Monday, September 21, 2009

Role Reversal.

A single light bulb hung from the ceiling in the center of the room. It's dim white cast a circle of light a meter wide across her snowy skin, grey floor and battered chair. Snowy skin that perfectly contrasted against the rough black rope that bound her wrists behind the chair. If she ever gets out of here, they're going to know it was me. Her thighs were held open by thicker rope binding her ankles to the front legs of the chair, exposing her pale, shaven cunt. I gazed at her blindfolded eyes and stroked her long black hair. She whimpered and shook, fearing what her master had in store for her. The chair rattled and groaned as she began to sob.
" No! No.. please master.. don't hurt me again! I'm begging you! Please! Master!"
I gave her a swift slap to the face, feeling the moister of her tears against my fingers.
" Shhh dear, the fun is yet to begin! Don't wear yourself out."
I bent my head to better examine the scars covering her thighs. The scars I dealt her during the years of abuse. I stroked them tenderly and reached into my deep pocket with the other. It was almost as though she had a sixth sense, as soon as the silvery, curved knife left my pocket her shaking increased in intensity and her feeble attempts to break free became dramatically frantic. Oh yes, she knew what was coming, this nightly ritual of repetition. Of blade and flesh. Of blood and home made stitches. I rested the edge of the blade lightly against her thigh, ready to drag it across one last time before I disposed of her once and for all....

Greatest dream I ever had.

3 comments:

  1. A single cliche hung from the ceiling in the center of the room. It's dim white cast a circle of depressingly ordained masochistic fantasy a meter wide...

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