Esoteric Submission

It sounds like a hammer on the anvil, or the way that chains clatter. Sometimes, the sound of locks as they are carefully turned.

That sound rings through our oubliette, turning the pages of soft vellum that are delicately inked in black blood, the tome of our deeds.

The sound makes those fiends that whisper secrets in my mind giggle, like a wind that touches you ever so slightly. Tempting me to the edge of the abyss, pushing me over with their recondite prophecy.

This sound traces its fingers along the landscape of my mind. It is the sound of depravity, control, sacrifice, pain, and pleasure all blended into one word: Master