Snow Patrol ~ You are all that I have
There is a darkness deep in you
A frightening magic I cling to

Just occasionally I wish I could see what He looks like from outside the moment, when the masochist is at His mercy, when the sadist is in full flow.
As the masochist, I don’t see it, I feel it,
visceral, aroused,
my mind isn’t my own,
my thoughts a chemical fusion of emotion and capricious chimera.

I often wonder just how much do I miss as I writhe and scream and tremble underneath His hand, or maybe the truth is that I miss nothing at all?
Maybe it’s enough to feel it, to experience each minute tremor of each pull of the strings as He makes me into whatever shape He pleases?

I create an image in my mind, of Him, as He toys and teases, as He induces scream after gloriously tortured scream, taking me to the very edge of my endurance.
But it’s always after the event, for during I am nothing but His plaything, I am only what He wishes me to be, and there is no room amongst that reality to see anything else but that which He wishes me to see.

I am, ofcourse, content to be, to exist, to be sustained both by and within this realm of fantastic rapture He has built for me.

But occasionally, just occasionally, I wonder, if I weren’t invested in being so thoroughly at His mercy, if I stepped back and watched from outside that enraptured bubble, would it thrill me or kill me to see Him hurt another, would it be worth the possible spellbinding pain, just so my curiosity could be indulged, so I could live the entire reality of His sadism?