Sweet Suffering - coming soon to a dungeon near you

"I want to take my time with you."

Tomorrow.
Sunday.
He will probably be here on Sunday.
To use me.
He wants to use me.

And he will schedule it so he can take his time with me.

Every time I repeat that phrase to myself, my cunt curls up in a tight little ball and shudders in fear and ecstasy. A lover would say: "I want us to have plenty of time together. I want to be able to luxuriate in the time we have together. A long, loving, sensuous orgasmic afternoon enjoying each other's bodies and minds."

My Master is not my lover.
My Master is my Owner.
I am his property, and he wants to get the most out of me.

But that's not the image that really comes to mind...
I see myself as his captive.
I see myself as his prisoner.
I see myself as his victim.
I see an ancient, dank castle,
a dungeon of stones and heavy wooden beams.
I see iron chains.
I see implements of pain.
I see myself naked,
weeping,
pleading,
suffering,
submitting,
accepting,
serving,
sucking,
I hear my screams.
I hear his roars.
I moan,
He growls,
I choke,
He cums.
His large hands compress my windpipe,
His strong fingers squeeze my nipples,
His sharp teeth pierce my neck,
His determined arm brings the cane
crashing down on my burning butt
as he tries to restrain
his urge to destroy.

Such fantasies...

of leather straps, chafing ropes, binding me to a worn wooden table, my panicked eyes searching his for a sign of mercy while knowing there will be none. This time there will be time. Time for the flogger. Time for the knife. Time for the thing I'm not allowed to mention even to him. Time for us to go to those places it isn't safe to go. Time for me to lie there alone after he is gone, bags of frozen peas layered on my beaten bottom and cubes of ice pressed to my bitten mouth. Time for the tears to dry. Time for the flush to recede. Time for me to be presentable, with one more day yet of recovery before returning to work so I can settle back down in my desk chair without grunting and muttering "ouch!" each time I do.

He will take his time with me.
Using me.
Tormenting me.
Manipulating me.
Changing me.

Protecting me.

He knows the dangers. The sadist will arrive in shackles of his own. I am his pet. I am his treasure. What we have is much too special. And so he will keep me safe.

More or less...