And I finally do not think.

Why does it always bring me back - the idea of control …..

What is it in me that needs this in order to feel whole?

Is there something wrong or is it meant to be me?

Why do I crave someone to order me in order to feel free?

Yes it’s sexual- it turns me on- but it’s more than that .. it’s mental, it’s encompassing.. it’s wrong?

But I’ve built myself up and I indeed feel fine

I feel capable and willing to shine 

Yet I want someone there to tell me how, how do I shine sir?

What do you prefer? 

I knew I shouldn’t be entering his room. I knew I shouldn’t be going to his room to give him a back rub. Not after yesterday. When he left me shaking at work all day. Openly admitting he hated me and wanted me out of the house immediately. Threatening to file n7 forms because I was “out of control” for sending him messages of apology because he has trained me to be this pathetic.

I knew I should not be going to his room. But he asked me and he’s not punishing me today and maybe I can be good. Maybe I can please him. Maybe I won’t be scared anymore if I can just make him happy . Do what he wants.

I touched his body and rubbed the knots I could easily find. Every touch I gave him felt like a peaceful stroke. As if this act of service was healing me and making me worth something again. He was accepting my touch and my service. He’s not ignoring me or hurting me. This feels good. He begins to touch my legs, my body; as if he likes me. As if yesterday was a bad dream. Was he lashing out ? No. No. He meant every word you stupid girl. He hates you he wants you out he is done with you like spoiled fruit. He does not care . He does not want you. He moves his hand up higher and begins to massage my clit gently. I try to push him arm down through the massage as if it was an accident . I know rejecting his touch is an unacceptable thing to do. I say “relax just enjoy” and I continue to massage for a quick moment. I feel his body tense and his hand comes back to my center and he says with annoyance and in an end of discussion tone -“stop”.  I knew what he meant instantly . Do not stop massaging him. Do not stop touching. Stop fighting him. He wants to touch you and he will touch you. You mean nothing and he will touch you anyway. Stop. I stop fighting.

He turns over and lays on his back and stares blankly at my face. I get nervous and look down and start my planned move to leave the bed about to step silently away into the night- to my room, where I will continue to think about him. Before I can execute this pathetic plan of mine he grabs my wrist and pulls me on his body so I’m sitting on top of him.

He grabs the hair by my neck and pulls my face down a bit just enough to hurt.

“You know I hate you sometimes” he said in a voice that made it sound romantic.

“I know” I say weakly. Fuck who am I? I have nothing left inside me to say anything else. Or feel anything else.  I know you do . I know you hate me. How can I change it? Just stop logic states -stop thinking like a moron. It doesn’t win the train of thought though. How do I become un-hateable in his eyes. How do I do it. As my mind realizes how pathetic I am, he abruptly moves my shorts and thong to one side and I can feel him.

How can someone who truly despises me make me feel so much emotion? I have dated boyfriends who were kind and attentive and caring and I never felt what I feel now. Like a light doll. Content to please and follow direction. Tell me what to do. And I’ll do it. I feared how far my mind would take that thought as he entered me in one push . He made a sound of approval at my wetness.  He instructed me to lift forward closer to him . He bit down on my right breast on the skin so hard I wanted to cry but I knew that would make him angry so I took the pain in strides. He never seemed to get enough of the pain.

I look back at the night now today after being ignored all day. Did I dream it? Did he invite me into his room, fuck me, and use me ? Did it even happen? The marks on my body say it did.

You own me and you don’t Intend to.

I crawl to you and you and you walk away

But once I grieve and heal you want me stay

I will stop and crawl and stay

And then you will go away

I will walk and bark and grow

And you will take me and laugh at my show

Why do you want me only when I’m free

I give myself to you but you reject me

Did you ever love me

Did you ever care

Am I more to you then where your dick can be bare

I see you look at my face while you flirtatiously touch her leg

I wonder why you love to me see beg

I don’t want this anymore

I have bruises everywhere

I don’t even want you to care

But you’ll pretend to and I’ll believe it

I’ll crawl back to you and fall into your pit

I’ll dig my way out and you’ll smile and wave

Forcé me back in and claim I am insane

I don’t want this or you and I have nothing left

But I know when you force it I will just give up

How can I feel nothing and everything at once

My mind numbs, I feel your touch

The body I’m froze in, no longer is mine

I feel the sensations, I can’t feel the pain

I see that look and it breaks me to bits

I love when I relinquish my bliss

The tingling notion that I am not mine

You ask me to jump and I’ll soar to the sky

You’ve taken my mind while you possess my skin

I want you to have it - our souls akin

You are solid and rock with grippable stone

Destructive and hard, yet I can climb when shown

The tingling notion I am not mine

Let me climb and consume you, I’ll find I can fly

It’s a general consensus or a verbal clue- You feel you have to hide the weaker parts of you. This part is not whole in its essence of you, you are capable, and do what must be done of you.

This part, it does linger, it clutches and claws, demanding a comfort to ease and awe. To feel weak is unacceptable, embarrassing and small. But what if what you call small, is what makes me feel tall?

I like to crawl, kiss and kneel and feel grateful I’ve pleased. Please give me your approval, I want to be  seized. To look up at you and to know I need guide, I should feel weakness, but I feel my worries subside. 

The emotional pull. The need, pathetic urge. I want you to want me. I need us to merge. I crave for your blessing, your instruction and word. I need your voice because yours is preferred. 

I like to be enjoyed by someone who prefers me weak. Who knows that for me it’s not unstable or bleak. I am  me and I am fine, but I prefer to be lead. Please tell me your wants so your desires are fed. 

I want to be good and weak and small. Take my body and take my all. Have me only able to beg and need. Give me direction and I will heed. I need your control, your hands and touch. I need your nature  of demanding too much. 

Take me and use me I’m nothing but yours. Decide what I am, what I say and my chores. Want me to lick you and kiss and sit? Want to me to sit and then kiss and then lick? You give me your command and I’ll look up and say 

“I want to be your good little prey.”

I felt every thought.
Every doubt. Every flaw.
Until I didn’t.
Until the order of the command became the only thing that mattered.
No longer did I care if the position made me look my best. So long as it is what he asked for.
The thoughts began to fly far away until I was comfortable with my own vulnerability.
No longer needing to hide it away and fill the moment with sound.
My silence is peaceful. It is calm. I await my next command. I am here to do as I’m told and I am happy. I am content.
I feel no doubt. Or shame. Or embarrassment.
I simply wait.
I wait for you to decide. And I await your words.
Like water when I’m thirsty. I drink them in as fuel to the feeling.
I am dizzy. I am calm. I am yours.
And I finally do not think. I am still.

So still.