Oh, I’ll drop to my knees at a simple order. A rare gift to you in response to that growl. My eyes upward, there is only focus. Only this. This is trust. And this is submission.

To you I am prey. A little scrap of meat to sink your teeth into. And I…belong to the one above me. I am your possession.

There was something there, that digs deeper beyond thought process and reason. Its the sensation that tugs just below the navel, the presence that pushes me down to the most primordial part of my being. Its the instinct that tells me of power and command, and one worth obeying.

Claimed and chained and rightfully tamed. Let me unleash my claws just for you. Release me into that thoughtless creature that howls for a taste, cries for a touch, and screams for more pain. Because I heat at the thought of control. The fantasy, of you standing over with my heart pounding and my eyes looking up to you in surrender, makes me shake with anticipation.

My skin dampens with anxious perspiration while I wait. Itching to beg for my next punishment, feening for another display of complete power. The power to rule over a puckish slut, the strength to hold me down when I climb too high. The sadistic twist in your eyes when you know better what I need and push me further into chaos. How you’ve trained me to ask for it, and made me into whore willing to grovel at your feet.

Predator meets predator, and the true alpha will always come out on top in the struggle. Here I am, a possession, a slave to what you do, pleading for the slightest taste, for the pain of your grip.

And you are mine, my predator. The one who has earned the drop to the knees. You’ve proved your right to hear my screams, to bring me to tears, and make me forget my name in the fall.

Then, my predator, I ask and you give. Have I asked for what I deserve? This combination of pleasure and pain with lack of fear overwhelms my mind. That sweet moment when there is no doubt I am yours.

My throat tells me that I cannot speak, and my body stiffens, knowing that it alone can ask you for mercy, and yet it refuses. Because at my core I know that this is all at your mercy. And this body lets go, falling into rapture at your hand, at your heat. So when it fades it flashes into color and that complete submission. The taking of what is yours.

When awareness returns, aside from confusion, there is the high that spins the room, with the focus point above me. Your expression, Sir. Somewhere between assessment and caring, and it befuddles all the more. Somehow, between the violence of our fuck, and my newfound craving for the pain you inflict, that I can awaken with such a profound flood of adoration and love in every single nerve that feels, and it rocks me to my soul.