James Bay ~ When We Were on Fire
Head down heading under ground feeling wasted
Cold to the bone so alone I can taste it
Kinesis ~ a movement that lacks directional orientation and depends upon the intensity of stimulation
It builds, the exchange, of energy, of desires, towards a destination of which only He is aware.
I’m blinded, deliberately, a subterfuge of sorts.
Orgasm after orgasm is wrung from my body, I whimper and cry out, at home amongst the onslaught of agitated carnage. Expertly, He teases, plants notions in my head, feeding me syllable after lust soaked syllable He knows will not fail to arouse. He is inside my head, He knows which triggers to provoke in order to incite the reaction He requires.
This journey is not mine, I am simply a passenger.
Neither is the code of this mystery mine to decipher.
Written in carnal braille, I must simply be content to run my fingertips over each proud embedded symbol and submit to it’s will, until He decides for me the point at which to place the full stop.
I free fall without discernible direction, barely able to gauge my location by virtue of mesmerising landmarks constructed upon the delusion of a previously mapped horizon.
He places my hand, tight, around His cock.
“You want this, don’t you, slut?”
I nod, groan, writhe, desperate for Him to begin His assault upon my needy body rendered incapable of speech. A fortunate consequence given He requires no words to know that which I want.
He’s grinning at me, and I tell myself,
the journey will soon be over,
I believe I now know where I am headed.
I am to dance until He requires me
I am to give until such a time as He deems it
to sate His intent.
My desire for a well known conclusion robs me of the ability to see, and somewhere along the envisaged line I miss the cue to dispossess myself of the impulse of my craving.
Blind-sided by my delirious compulsion, I feel, starkly, the shift in gear.
End, abrupt, I plummet, holding as if my life depended upon it, a scrap of paper in my hand.
“You asked for evil, so it’s evil you’re going to get.
I’m not going to tell you when it’ll strike, but it’ll be soon.
Now it’s time for you to think on that whilst you sleep.”
I saw a flaw in His design, and exploited it in order that my mind may feast upon every insecurity I own, deliberately smudging the last clue in my hand, creating a stygian pit of pain and self loathing.
An endless loop of self created drama played in my head all night as my mind kept on repeating word after pitiful word, high resonance echoes not allowing me to sleep.
Hindsight provided illumination, this was not a situation contrived to deliberately hurt or deceive.
He was giving me what I wanted, what I’d asked for, what I really, truly craved.
Hindsight also handed me the albatross of guilt for ever doubting His intent.