This is the dumbest post I will ever make online. Anon on to keep my last shred of dignity. Hope the post doesn't break.
All of your pretty words have been plaguing my fucking mind recently. Been thinking a lot about the type of shit you say. I'm normally a sadist dom, but your posts slip me into a stupid fucking masochistic stupor. I've read at least every word about a dozen times over. It's pretty fucked up how desperate I am about all this. I doubt you even care, but I don't think I want you to.
I picture the scene pretty vividly, you telling me exactly what steps puppy has to follow. Maybe I fight back, helplessly trying to turn the tables, but it doesn't work. It'll never work against you. You'll only mindfuck me harder. Telling me I don't know what I want, telling me to get over it. How I don't deserve to be in control. Slipping me further and further into absolute submission, I won't be able to resist anymore.
You'll tell me to cut my veins open, let it all bleed out, and I'll obey. 'Cause it's what you want. My desires don't matter. It's all about pleasing you. The knife'll sink deep into my flesh, carving deep grooves, brilliant shades of red rising to the surface. The blood scent in the air is fucking pungent. You'll laugh, almost angelic but truthfully cruel.
You'll stomp down on my wrist, the blood spurting out of the cuts onto your boot, maybe you'll even fracture the bone. You'll tell me to clean up my mess. I'll stick my tongue out like the whores in pornos do, idiot and crass, and I'll lick up my own gore off the vamp of your boot without a second thought. That copper taste so familiar, it's all I'll know beyond this point.
We'll go for hours, days even. I'll be a fuckin' drugged up cut up mess, sobbing and broken, and you'll be laughing through it all. You'll get bored eventually, I know you will, and then you'll give me one last command. You'll tell me those lovely parting words, tell me to kill myself for you, it's the final act to our fucked up scene. And I'll do it. A kicked puppy only wants to please its ruthless master.
I'll make it slow, just so you can take in my gargled cries like an alluringly haunting symphony of pain. Choking on my own blood, fucking filthy.
Then what comes after? That's for you to decide. Not me, of course.
fuck anon .ᐟ ,, you’ve really outdone yourself this time haven’t you (ㅅ´ ˘ `) i gotta say, i'm flattered that my “pretty words” have been rattling around that head of yours . . .
now, for that very very nice scene you mentioned . .
i'd peel away that last shred of dignity, leaving you a broken mess at my feet. it’d take some effort, considering you have the same knack for violence and defiance as an untrained mutt, but we’d eventually get there wouldn’t we .ᐣ i'd savor every agonized gasp, every gurgled cry as you choke on your own blood. it'd be one of the most beautiful, and most disgusting things i’ve ever seen, and it’d be all for me . . .
i’d enjoy the moment, might even record you killing yourself just to add it to my personal collection. but, once the deed has been done, and you're lying there in a pool of your own blood .ᐣ well, my interest tends to wane pretty damn quick. ᓚᘏᗢ i dunno - i've got better things to do than babysit a corpse. . .
but just because you’re dead doesn’t mean you can’t be useful, now does it .ᐣ you’ve got a little more left to give until i get sick of you. . .
i’m sure i’d find something, anything, to make it so that even in death you weren’t a waste of time. cut into you with zero-surgical precision, rough and uneven, take out whatever interests me or whatever i think might taste good (๑⃙⃘´༥`๑⃙⃘) maybe i won’t be able to hold back, might not be able to wait til’ everything is clean, cut and organized. might start tearing into you right then and there, making more of a mess of things. you won’t mind, right .ᐣ for the rest of you, i’ll find ways to utilize every last scrap. maybe i’ll tan your skin, craft it into a wallet or a glove . . might take a picture of your body n’ hang it somewhere. your corpse, once i’ve gotten everything i can out of if, will probably be left behind some dingy motel or in an alleyway.
if i’m feeling nice, i might even send it home to where your family is as a surprise. they can burden themselves with it now ᥫ᭡
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