Tr**** Posted November 18, 2021 Posted November 18, 2021 The air in the room is still, but your breath is heavy. Like a metronome it keeps its pace when I’m still. As soon as I move the breathing becomes quiet, you hold your breath in anticipation. My fingertips trace the lines of your body, goosebumps form on the flesh. My canvas and my stage, I use you in ways some might call depraved. I etch my signature into your body with rope, with leather, with chains. You get wet when I grab your neck, you tremble with anticipation when I put you on your knees. This is the side of you that no one sees, this is who you are for me and only me. To everyone else, you display a secret identity, a mask, a facade. What would they think if they could see you bound, bruised, and gagged in my bed? It does not matter, because they don’t get the privilege of knowing you like I do. They don’t feel the serenity I do when you submit yourself to me. They will never see the real you, but I see you.
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