Everything is freaking me out. I’ll focus instead on what I want, and can really use, right now.
You ask me what I need.
“Don’t be shy, you can tell me.”
I can’t express all the things I need right now. The explicit things, the simple ones, the things that would be a balm to my mind, and the things that would be a delight to my body.
“Be honest. Close your eyes and just tell me what you need.”
What I need…
The feel of a hand connecting with my flesh. Each slap harder, the sound of it ringing in my ears as the pain snakes up my spine. The sensation morphing and coalescing in my cunt until I am wetter and wetter with each strike.
“More.”
I want to beg. I want to ask to be hurt. I want to be held down when I squirm away because I need this
“And then?”
And then I want to be fucked. When I’m tear-streaked, my ass hot from all the implements that have been used, I want to be fucked. I want my face pressed into the mattress and a hand wrapped around my throat, as someone – anyone – uses my cunt. Tell me how wet I am, tell how hot I feel, squeeze my throat, and fuck me harder.
Leave me exhausted… covered in cum… whimpering… and begging for more.
“Say please.”
Will you give me that if I do say please?