I want you to buckle thick leather cuffs around my wrists and ankles. I want to hear the clanking of the chains as my wrists are raised above my head. I want you to flog with a heavy flogger, knocking the breath out me, making me sway with every blow. I want to feel it raining down on my shoulders, my ass, my thighs.©copyright crave 1996I want my breasts to be grabbed and squeezed. My nipples, pinched and pulled between your fingers, before you attach mean black clips to my nipples and the soft, fleshy sides of my breasts. I want to feel the sharp piercing pain of the clamps, settle into the dull throbbing, until you tweak them and send ripples of pain through my chest.
I want to feel your hot breath against my neck before you sink your teeth into my skin. Your mouth, sucking the blood from my body. I want to feel the sting of your paddle, smacking my ass, and my soft inner thighs. I want to hear the slap of the leather against my skin. I want to hear your breathing quicken as you notice my wetness, shiny on my thighs. I want you to hit me until I beg you to stop, then hit me some more.
I want to hear the scratch of a match and the flare of a candle. I want to feel the light next to my body. Smell the wax, burning, pooling in the candle, before being splashed across my body. I want to hear myself scream until you gag me. I want to feel your cane, bouncing over my ass, teasing me with the promise of pain. I want to listen to its whistle and feel my muscles involuntarily tense, waiting the blow. I want to feel the sting, the pause, the after pain, deep in my muscles. I want to feel the pretty purple welts rising. I want you to cane me until I bleed.
I want to fall asleep in your arms, knowing I'm going to be sore and bruised the next day. I want to tell you how much I love you. I want to hold you and never let you go. I want to be with you.