Marduk ~ Obedience
She strains against her bonds
To keep the cruel pace
Despite the shackles hampering her stride
The tears of helpless misery stain her face
And only memories remain of pride



He told me He was going to make me cry, told me categorically that that was His goal.

I found it deeply ironic that this wonderful flogger, christened Mister T the Tourette’s(profanity) inducer, that I was gifted for my birthday, a custom design just for me, was going to be His ally in this endeavour.
I almost didn’t dare touch it, such was the power the intrigue of it had over me.
The thought of Him wielding it,
the strike of leather on soft, tender flesh,
such a beautiful sensuous thing a tool of the sadist,
made me utterly dizzy.

Being told to lie back so He could begin His assault upon my body made me shiver,
I was already an unholy mess of endorphin and anticipation having previously been subject to the ministrations of His knife.

As the blows began to fall I was able to relax, my mind steadily drifting, registering the nuances as the falls stroked my body.
Thud. Experience. Whimper. Relax.
Thud. Sigh. Purr. Relax.

He paused, verbally expressing the question dancing there in His eyes.
Where are the tears? The profanity? The writhing? The names?

He changed pace slightly, making me wait,
drawing the leather softly over my face.
Part of me was concerned as to whether or not He’d strike harder, and I gasped, fearful of the prospect,
part of me enamoured with the idea.

Harder, and harder the falls crashed against me, as He returned to concentrate on achieving His goal
aiming, striking,
building sensation,
stacking pain atop fevered pain

“You fucking bastard”, profanity exclaimed.
Smugness abounds.
“Now we’re getting somewhere” He states, far too fucking pleased with himself.

He really went to work then, bending me to His will,
wringing from me every ounce of fuck you I had to give.
The tears came,
harsh, choking, body wracking sobs,
and still the pain continued.

I had had enough only when He decided,
My pain would end only when His desire to inflict it had been thoroughly sated.

From his objective He never wavered,
owning every reaction my body surrendered.