Monday, March 7, 2016

I Whispered

I have set a few ramblings to auto-post this week, so know that I have not suddenly started ignoring comments, I'll just likely have to catch with everyone on the weekend.

I did something that I never voluntarily of my own accord done--I talked. And I begged.

I whispered my dreams and my fears, my musings and the feeling of him. I scratched and bit and begged him to hurt me. I whispered about the puzzle piece we always held so dear, perhaps now the missing link to that click we are striving for outside of us. I whispered about how we are better living M/s and why I run, about how I can feel the beast and sense his need.

He used me. Chewed me up and spit me out. Not so silent in the night we met in our passionate rage, a physical fight I lost with pained grace.

And when I could go no further, he pushed me more.
I whispered my fears and desires, for the first time ever offering verbal acknowledgement of the flickering in his eyes, the starving beast nipping at the edges of control.

I begged for pain and it came. I begged for it to stop and it did not.
Say what you will, masochist or not, pain makes everything else go away. For the first night in a very long time, I did not dream of work. In fact, I did not dream at all.


  1. See! There are ways to fit all the pieces together.

    1. Misty,
      I just wish they didn't come apart so easily!

  2. Whoop! well done you! It's so very bloody hard to be brave like that, but oh, when it pans out... it is so very worth it!


Play nice.