Mine

The marks on my neck were still a dark purple. As I checked them out in the mirror the next morning, I winced. The memory was raw.

Flashes of last night. His charming and calm voice talking me into a perfect submission, before he pounced on me. He tied me to the bed.

It gets quite fuzzy from there. I can’t remember much, besides little sensations.

Dressage whip hitting my tits.

Nipple clamps being screwed too tight.

His hand wrapped around my throat, pushing his rigid cock inside me until I cried out in terror.

All too much.

I rubbed my neck, and as I did, I noticed a red mark on my arm. I rolled up my sleeve and recoiled in horror when I saw what it was.

In my right arm, a word had been carved.

“Mine”.

I started sobbing.

It was the first time I realized that I don’t want to be his. That I do not want to be owned by that limitless bastard.

“Mine”.

Not any longer.

Previous Post
Next Post
Leave a comment

3 Comments

  1. elenyalewis

     /  November 10, 2011

    Ooh, I got a little shiver reading that. Scary. :S

    Reply
  2. Is this the story you said on Twitter wasn’t that dark? I beg to differ! Very intense despite its brevity. The excitement provided by your vivid descriptions led to such a brilliant, almost scary conclusion. Well done.

    -Jack

    Reply

Whisper to me

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: