The sadist, the beast, and the knife

The beast is awake again.
The beast is awake and out of his cage.
The beast is awake
and he's roaming the streets
and he knows what he wants.

The beast wants to hurt me.
He wants to torture me.
He's got other options
but I'm the one he wants.
I'm the one he wants to torture
because he knows I'll suffer more.

I've been thinking about the knife lately. A while back, the sadist first mentioned it, and described it, and thereafter continued to bring it up every so often. And then he stopped. But recently he started thinking about it again. As did I - perhaps even before he mentioned it. I think... there is a connection... he sent me this intense e-mail today and I checked my Inbox immediately after he sent it, after not having looked for an hour or so.

Immediately after.
As if I heard him calling to me.

There are thoughts that move between us...

We had a long IM conversation later.
A long, intense, instructive conversation.
A lesson.
A training session.
I learned a lot.
He continues to transform me.

I asked if I might post his earlier e-mail here.
He said no.

I wasn't really surprised that he said no, as it was a very intimate piece of writing. Very naked. Very revealing. A dom can show himself to be vulnerable, and something about his words seemed very vulnerable indeed.

They showed me to be very vulnerable as well.

So he said no, but did give permission to write about it, to paraphrase it, to discuss my reaction.

He also ordered me to convey his repeated warning that he cannot guarantee my safety.

He had been protecting me.
Or at least, he claimed he had been protecting me.
From the beast.

He didn't want me to rouse the beast, he was trying to protect me from the beast, but I realize now it was because once the beast was loose he could not guarantee my safety.

I say that, I know its implications, and yet I find myself to be horribly aroused.
Aroused about something potentially horrible.
Because I want to please him.
Because I want to serve him
Because he has changed me
so that his desires
are now my desires.

I want him to hurt me.

And that e-mail message?
The one about the knife?

It was beautiful.
It was horrible.

There was me, his pet, naked in his lap.
There was the large, steel knife.
There was my pale, round belly.
My belly
and the sharp tip of the knife.
And...

I was not safe.
He did not hold back.

And I read it and felt myself being drawn into the reality of it. I felt myself in his lap, I felt him gently fondling my pussy, I felt the tip of the knife against my belly... and I felt my total, loving submission as I gave him my life.

I wrote:

What you describe is very beautiful, my Lord.
Very beautiful and very arousing.
To submit so fully.
To love so totally.

The only pity being that it can be done only once.

I am yours, my Lord.

I'm having a hard time writing this post. I'm having a hard time concentrating. I'm having a hard time ignoring my pulsing pussy. I am re-reading what he wrote, and then what we wrote to each other, and I'm back in that trance he invariably pulls me into...

There is such a beauty in submission. When it is given truly, when you give up your soul, when it isn't just play, when it isn't just a source of erotic amusement... I'm supposed to be so good with words and right now they have utterly failed me.

No, I don't honestly think he would kill me.
And no, I don't think I would willingly invite him to kill me.
But there's a part of me that can see the beauty in it.
And therein lies the danger.

We all crave intimacy.
We all crave union.

And the intimacy achieved through submission,
true submission,
a giving,
an offering,
a yielding...

He has taught me so much.
He has taught me
and he has changed me.

He is hungry.
He ordered me to cum for him tonight.

And I have been so changed that the first image that came to mind was not that of me lying in my bed, my fingers finally allowed to fondle, my body finally allowed release of the arousal that has been building for weeks and that became unbearable today.

No.
Not at all.
He has trained me.
He has changed me.
He has transformed me.
I am his creation.
I am his pet.
And my purpose in life
is to think
only
of what he wants.

So when he said I should cum for him tonight, my first image was of me lying there in the bed. The cell phone on the pillow near my head as I fondled my pussy and paced myself so as to give him the experience he wanted.

The moans.
The little whimpers.
The straining.
The peaking.
And then the sobs...
oh, such rich and gut-shaking sobs.
The cumming of my heart
along with the cumming of my cunt.

I am yours, my Lord.
And all that matters is what you want.