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Crying, falling, dying. A moment, a heartbeat thudding in my ears. Spiralling down and away, the memories rising around me like bubbles. I cannot grasp them, floating away from me. Slipping like grains of sand through my fingers. This is my mind. And what is the reality? The reality comes to me as thoughts, fleeting impressions. Tastes, sights, colours, and smells, an orchestra of my senses. It always leaves me reeling.
Every time I beg him to hurt me, I do so with a conviction that lies heavy in my gut. I feel when I turn my face up to him that I am praying. I am touching the divine spark that lingers in us all. I cannot pray with words when I watch him. Speech leaves me until the only thing left is the mindless gibbering of my want. I pray with lips and tongue and hands and hips; action. But more so than this, I pray with my heart.
He reads me. He always could. My eyes speak to him, I think, as clear as words. Such words I can hear echoing and bouncing through the chapel to him that my mind has become.
“There is a fire burning in me. There is a compulsion. I worship lust, place it on an altar and call it most holy of holies until even I am blinded by the truth of it. Kill me softly, sweetly with the touch of your hands. Bring the blood so swiftly to the surface of my skin. Tear me. Make me bleed.
Make me cum.
Make me breathe, bring me to life. I am a Mediocre instrument and yet beneath your touch my body will sing as a symphony. I want to feel, to burn. To crumble to ashes in the haze of this pain and be reborn again. A cycle... I never want this to end.
Mark me. Cut me, strip the skin from me until there is nothing left but the spark of my soul. Sobbing as you fuck me and you answer the horror in my soul. Destroy my beauty. Hate me and love me. Hold me tender even as your fingers are cruel on my skin. Hate and love, pleasure and pain. I know, I see. The truth behind the mind.
I am yours. Bared and complete. So perfect, the victim, only craving for more. The prey. Come to me. Come to me and show me the ugliness that lives in us all. Show me the darkness that lives in us all. Frighten me and make me tremble. I'll come crawling back for more.
Oh, sweet pain you are my muse, the thing that inspires me to my greatest heights.
Inexhaustible as I beg again. Pale skin scarred and bruised and bleeding and tattered and still I crave. Fill me. Fill this emptiness in me. Stop this numbness.
Let me hurt. Oh, God..., let me cry and bleed at your feet, bathe your skin with my tears. Please... “
And so I pray.
END
Other work by Amber Hipple
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