My mind blurted it out, and in submissive parlance, it fell upon the screen.

“I have a hankering for something….destructive, and cruel.” I tell Him out of the blue.

<pause>

“Anything in mind?….” came the response, not really the one I was expecting.

For a moment it threw me, and I stumbled over His words, my mind becoming snagged upon them as I fleetingly hung there, seeking to complete my own thought processes.

<pause>
<think>
<respond>

“I can’t describe it, because I only know how it feels, not what it looks like”

I don’t have a scene imagined in my head, I don’t have an implement already picked out for Him to use as I visualise my destruction.

I just know what it feels like before, in those moments of anticipatory suspense.
imploring
I only know what it feels like during, as His sadism surrounds me.
bereft
I can only feel what it’s like in the aftermath, when He is finally sated.
sobs wrack my exhausted body

It feels like stomach churning fear, it feels emotionally purging, something which eviscerates the thoughts clogged inside my head. I know my throat feels dry, skin clammy as nerves cause my body to shake, adrenalin amplifying the tension between us.
It feels like being precariously balanced on a precipice edge, knowing I’m about to be thrown forcibly over the edge.

I can’t pinpoint physical stimuli, only the emotional recoil in response.
I can remember, though, the last time I felt what I now find I’m craving.

I remember I wanted to curl, foetal, at his feet.
I remember he wouldn’t let me.
I remember I almost abandoned myself, then, and it took His words to bring me back.

This is what I have in mind, I acknowledge that this, however, doesn’t really answer His question, or help Him to take me there again.

*

Note.
This is always the way when vulnerabilities and usually deeply hidden thoughts have been shared;I need to be caged, I need to be small below him, trapped. The resultant restlessness which claws it’s way resolutely to my marrow needs to be expunged before it threatens to lead me away, back to that place where I guard myself possessively lest someone should breach my defences and catch a glimpse of those facets of self I instinctively keep hidden.