Make me

It isn’t within me to let go on my own. It needs to be taken. Made to let go.

Make me let go?
Swallow up my fight and thwart my spinning inner workings with pain and pleasure. Overwhelm me. Wash over me in waves of heat from curve of breast to curl of feet.

Make me let go.

I know you see my need. In the way I look at you, pleading with open tearing eyes. I know. My voice is small, meek in its whispering in my mind.

Help me. Hurt me. Find me. Break me. Build me. Hurt me. Hold me. Kiss me.

Please, make me let go.

Make the burdens of my world gone, bring me focus.

Make me feel.

Call out my voice from me in pleading, trembling, begging words.

Make me.

Make me let go of the things I hide behind. The false smiles and well learned deflections, take them from me.

Shower me in rains of our sweat and fluids and clasp me, grasp me in knowing hands.

Reduce me. Use me. Help me. Hurt me.

Make me let go.

I beg you please,make me. I know you see it in my shivers. Hear it in my strained cries. Taste it on my warm lips and searching tongue. Feel it when my muscles clamp tight pulsing around you and your hands. I want this, please?

Make me let go.

Overtake me. Consume me. Restrain me. Pain me. Release me.
When my pieces are soggy with tears and spittle, when the broken parts are welted and bruised, when the hidden slivers of me are coated in you and sweat.

Then make me see I am not so broken, but treasured.

Make me let go of the things that haunt me, with your gentle strokes and cooing, calming words.

Make me lose the veils that cloud mine eyes as you kiss away tears.

Help me. Hurt me. Seduce me. Save me. Console me. Control me. Keep me. Take me.

Make me.

 

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Pleas and please

My head is full of clutter and begging for simplification.

Fuck feels. Fuck plans. Fuck thinking in any way shape or form.

Make me useful.

Remove second guessing with actions that leave only one possible reaction.

Make it hurt, not because I earned it or even because you want it to, but because that’s the way it is sometimes when you’re alive instead of just living.

I need to feel it, to feel something sensical in the silence between the screams.

Make me beg for it, desperately debased in the face of unknown hunger and unrivaled desire. Give me yours until mine overflows in pleas and please.

If ever you’ve wanted me, however you’ve wanted me, now is the time to show it. Telling is for the dreamers, and for once I’m feeling awake and reveling in reality.

Be real with me.

A letter that Ill never send.

For all the conversations we had, I realize now you never really answered my questions.

When I woke up that night, had no idea where I was or who you were yet i was as calm as can be, you asked me “why I wasn’t scared” & I replied “nothing can hurt me now” you stared at me for a very long time before you said another word. I still to this day wonder what you thought in that moment and why you decided I was your “one”.

What about me piqued your interest or made you feel I was suitable for the role you were looking to fill? Was it my messy state? The fact that I owed you? Was it my blatant disregard for my safety ? Or was it because you knew I had no one that would worry?

I wish you’d told me.

I look back on the beginning and how nice you were to me. So kind full of compliments making me feel like I was needed and it meant so much to me. How did I not know it was a game ?
It became natural for me to want to please you to make you proud of me, to show you how thankful I was.. but was it truly natural for me to transform into a robot? An object, an unfeeling stone.. For you to pour your rage and dislike in to..

I did everything you asked, and more. I let you push me past my absolute limits and break me into a thousand pieces time and time again. I took the pain, the humiliation and degradation. I took it all. Then you picked me back up and “lovingly” praised me , bathed me, soothed my aching body putting me back together only to do it all over again.

That day when I watched you watch me with that man, the anger flashing in your eyes betrayed your calm exterior, and I couldn’t understand why when it was your doing. Afterwards when you would make me yours again all I could feel was relief. You still wanted me. You still needed me to be yours. I had pleased you and that was the best feeling – better than any other high. I loved it!

That day was the day I gave myself completely over to you.
I turned off the switch that made me have my own thoughts and feelings and I forgot about Rosie.

Fast forward 2 years 8 months later You stood in front of me, told me I was free.

Free.

I was going to be okay and I was a great girl with great qualities great great great. You kept saying great.
When I dropped to my knees & I looked up at you straight in the eyes all desperate and frightened but you couldn’t look at me.

You walked away.

A letter with instructions to follow, a key to somewhere to stay and a goodbye Rosie, love John.

Rosie.. I wasn’t Rosie! I was your Sub! Your toy, your pet, I was yours. And John? Who the fuck is John!
Sir..

How could you do this to me?

Even toys need to be looked after.

Was it all a game ? Did I imagine the desperation in you when you had to make me yours after him? Did I imagine the contentment in you as I lay at your feet? Did I imagine the love you showered me with when you’d bathe me and tuck me in bed after a breaking session?  Did I imagine your pride when you’d take me out in my collar dressed by you? Did I imagine how you’d hold me so lovingly while I was coming down from sub space?

Maybe I did.

I know I’ll never get the answers or the understanding I need from you. I wish you knew how I’m suffering still so many months later. How useless and lost I feel.. I can’t stand another second of it. It only stops when I meet “that man” and be of use.

I wish it would stop forever.

Despite everything,  I hope you’re happy Sir and not living a lie. You are who you are and that’s okay, remember that.
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